Rebellion Became an Embrace

For about 25 years I was a cabinet maker.   It’s a world of minute detail:  blueprints, trim, and tight spaces.  Add to that delicate finishes, matching color samples, and pristine installations in expensive homes.

Creating large scale abstract art was a way of taking a break from the fastidiousness of the trade.  Throwing, splashing, thrashing, and dripping fields of paint became a refuge from the demands of the industry. 

However, at the turn of the century circumstances led to a break from cabinet making, as I spent several seasons remodeling and finishing my parent’s home in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.  

About five years later, my bride’s career in higher education took us to the mountains of North Carolina. I found myself back in the field of high end interior woodworking.  

A custom Maple entry door.

After several years of carpentry and drywall, I found myself poorly suited to the demands of cabinet making.  I’d lost my edge….

It took a few years to sharpen up. Those times were marked with frustration and dissatisfaction and eventually with the real estate collapse of 2008 I was laid off.  I’ve kept my tools but haven’t returned to cabinet making.

Deb’s career has gone forward and the opportunity to pursue my art career is in full flight.  I make this preamble to say that I don’t have much to rebel against any more:  times are good.

As such, the thrashing and running paint techniques of my large scale abstract art had become more of a habit than a reality.  Interestingly, now that the requirements of the field are removed I have discovered that the skills and orientation of my woodworking experience persist.

They have filtered back into my creative life.  

After being away for five years the clean lines and processes re-emerge.  I am not back in the shop polishing fine hardwoods, but I am drafting, laying down clean edges, building structures and enjoying the technical facility that decades of shop experience has instilled in me.  Yay!

The contrary days have passed.  These are quieter thoughtful times.  The means have changed, and the ends necessarily so.  What was rebellion has become an embrace. 

http://jtnwdc.wix.com/jamesthatcherarts

Conversation with a Friend

Hey Gregory,

Interesting questions and I don’t like my answers to any of them.

 Not selling anything regularly—some small stuff, prints from the website occasionally, a larger piece a couple years back.  Nothing big.

Collections…nothing too grand for painting:  Richard K. Thomas, a DC journalist (now retired—he was who brought me to DC from northern Michigan).  And a local businessman who bought the larger piece a couple years back.

Because of a strategic alliance in the ‘90’s with Mitzi Perdue of poultry fame, I have samples of my woodworking in some good private and state collections, including Bill Clinton, Lady Bird Johnson, former Chinese premier Deng Xiaoping, former German Chancellor Helmut Kohl, and the Perdues; as well as a jewelry box for CNN news personality Paula Zahn.  But….

Peer group?  No.

Art History?

Absence? 

My interest is in making good work, rather than art history.  As such it probably does more to promote art history rather than actually make art history.  Personal relevance is important, and the process of “making something out of nothing” is key for me.  I believe that we express ourselves out of the abundance of our heart, our core—I know that.  Does that contribute to art history?  It does contribute to the culture…and give meaning to my life and the doing of the stuff that I do…where is art history taking place, Gregory?  Who is it affecting? 

Projecting computer art on the walls of the campus may do more for art history than anything, because it’s that random encounter with artwork—big, unusual, and there in your path folks.  It may actually stick with someone--it may be more memorable than  typical art venue exposure.  I really like the graffiti on the trains that pull through town—same thing of big art flashing by unexpectedly.  A lot of it looks the same but still…I do appreciate it, and seeing it.

As far as “Absence”, what does Joan Mitchell’s work say in her absence?  Sam Francis?  How about James Turrell?  Aha!  And Pollock—Yes!  Warhol—I think I’m catching on….

I’m looking to surprise myself as I create; I believe that the surprise is contained in the finished product and possesses a certain “Wow!” factor.  That’s my deal right now—“look where this one went!”  Maybe create a little intrigue about how it got there….

Interesting questions.  Why do you ask?