From the fall 2002 issue of Comfusion Review.
Wright: You’ve described the modern art scene as a sort of one-upmanship, each artist attempting to do something that has never been done before, something more about conceptualism, or a painting of an idea, rather than having anything to do with the complexities of life that you attempt to capture in your paintings.
It seems to me that you’re attempting to move past the ideal of the non-aesthetic approach into something that mixes comfort and discomfort, everyday images and unreal images, but in your own words: What type of aesthetic do you seek to define in your artwork?
Demaree: So it's been awhile since I've heard the word aesthetic. So off to the dictionary and I found that its meaning has to do with beauty and taste. All the while I thought it had to do with look or feel. And I suppose it could if everything discussed was about beauty and taste. Now to answer the question, I'm not looking for beauty and taste in my paintings. The monsters in my head are looking for a way to say something and this is how I'm writing it down. Ugg, beware I have not slept much in the past few days.....
[But] ... lo and behold you have jumped to the conclusion I had just droned on about. I'm a big fat liar and I do appreciate beauty and I like disrupting and confusing whatever. So, I'm trying to play with stories and themes. I'm trying to poke fun at myself and everything else. I'm trying to show how horrible life is, that everything on our way to dying is meaningless. But I'm doing so with a big grin because I know how much I really care for ... whatever. I love to juxtapose especially if there's a bad situation to make silly faces at.
Wright: Why are we always hearing from the museum and artsy types that art can’t be defined, or that art is not something to put up on the walls? I mean, why can’t we?
Demaree: I'm guessing it's because those sort of folks want to push their new product. And what better way to push "Art" if it can't be defined? Sure I can get pretty disgusted when I see something in a museum that looks like it fell out of somebody's mouth. Or that yellow stripe on blue canvas garbage. But you really got to give credit to those "Artists." They suckered the crap out of millions of people. Millions of museums with buyers that have millions of dollars to spend . . . Pollack convinced the art world . . . that "Art" can be anything. Just like fashion magazines made it cool for girls to buy bleached-out pants that look like they’re used. Bravo to all the paint tossers and urinal placers. You just marketed a goldmine!
Wright: Art may have begun as something utilitarian (something made by a proto-artisan), chipping away at a stone to use as cutting or piercing object—yet, art has evolved very much over the millenia, and some modern and post-modern art can not only be mistaken for, but can be literally a bunch of trash. By incorporating images of family and the mundane, are you attempting to bring your art back to something more utilitarian? I say this in the sense that your artwork is used to tell stories. You may have been being simply sarcastic when you mentioned that, but when I view pieces of your work such as Spectacular Spectacle, Fractured Atom, The Teachings of Our Venus, not to mention the works entitled, Mom and Aunt Margo, I get the sense that you really are telling stories. If not stories in the literal sense, then at least, something that needs to be considered by the observer, a meaning that should be taken from your artwork with its harmony of tangents. Would you say that this is a response to modern and post-modern art, perhaps even part of your personal counter-art movement?
Demaree: Well, sure. Although I don't think you would be able to cut steak with it. . . . Ok, so anyway. I don't think art was defined as toolmaking. I can't picture a homosapien explaining to all around the significance of a cutting utensel, other than cutting: "So you see, this represents our people as a race and our advantage through tool making ... See what I have created with this cutting weapon? This my half monkey friends is art!" That's just silly.
I do think that art exists in the fertility goddess and cave paintings found. Those were made for something other than cutting and scraping. Those were made for thinking and worship . . . And I do believe that is why I suffer this horrible painting problem. To tell somebody something. Philosophize with people I don't even have to talk to. I don't know if my paintings are useful or not, that's up to the person looking at it. My images are not going to warm your food or straighten your bed, but, I hope . . .they will make you think.
I've got this theory, it has something to do with Surrealism. Obviously, I'm a fan of Dali but let's try not to let that get in our way here. Among the Surrealist, Dali was the only one to break away and grow from the prime directive. Movements in art were based on specific theory in color and idea. The Impressionist clung to color manipulation, the Cubist played with shape, and the Surrealist played with ideas. Abstract thought, dream oriented images. And Dali strayed. He began to include personal stories [within the] frame work [of his paintings]. {Paintings that} were becoming more realistic and more developed than the other Surrealists. [Meanwhile] Max Ernst became more interested in found objects . . . And so this is where art fell and shattered into thousands of pieces. Dali would influence a new renaissance of illustrators and Ernst would sell his idea of a urinal being "Art" so all the newcomers [would begin] pitch[ing] their ideas of what art is. Meaning was destroyed in illustration, and technique was lost in painting. Let's make things clear here! I am definitly part of a counter-art movement. Long live Holdenmeyer! May the earth shake when that name is whispered!
Wright: You mentioned that Salvador Dali was one of your influences, which is not difficult to see in that, not all, but some of your work deals with that surrealist landscape used by Dali and René Margitte, as well as your homage to Dali: Dissect to Emulate. In Dali’s book La Femme Visible (1930), he said that his method substituted the passive quality of surrealists with a “paranoiac and active advance of mind.”
In your newer works such as Fish Head that has apocalyptic scenes of emergency rescue and a gaurd stationed in front of a dark figure, as well as older paintings such as a Childhood Celebration that shows a woman looking up at something outside of the painting, her head in a bubble, and her body covered with spots of honey attracting larger than life bees, I can’t help but feel that there is always something looming behind your images. Would you call this ominous looming, this onerous feeling behind your images something that is paranoid? Or are you standing back and putting all possible interpretation on the observer’s shoulders and not claiming to be doing anything?
Demaree: I'm doing something and it's nice to have someone taking the time to really look around. I like the viewer to be part of the picture. I like pushing people’s eyes around and off the page. If you're not wondering what you're looking at the next best thing is to wonder what is being looked at. Sometimes it's paranoia. Other times it feels like transcendence. And what's the difference?
Dali would blame a lot of his ideas on nonsense and how he wouldn't even know what meaning his pictures had until later. That was Surrealism. I'm more interested in linking all of my imagery. I like hearing the interpretation. Somtimes the interpretor will link things I hadn't expected. And then it makes my painting even better. I don't like to go into much detail about my ideas. If asked a specific question, I'll usually answer it but I don't like to start jumping around and over exagerate a purpose. I like it when someone tells me what they think of something and then asks for my interpretation of their interpretation. I like hearing all the ideas behind my ideas when my ideas aren't in bold black letters. Imagination is more fun than explanation. I'm not writing nonfiction, I'm writing philosophical and slapstick stories. I'm a black humorist most of the time!
Wright: There is a series of your paintings that is entitled Aliens and Christ. Was this a random choice or did you purposefully conjoin Christ with the Aliens based on any sort of ideas that link the Christ figure and Aliens? Both are, afterall, related to the sky, and a higher realm of consciousness or being.
Demaree: For a period I was very much into religion and conspiracy books. Not exactly your praying, government fearing type, but [some of] the stories and ideas are fantastic. Wouldn't it be wonderful if Christ were an alien? Or better yet, if a species of cat people [created] Egypt or Rome? Science fiction, bless you.
I did grow up on a steady diet of marvel comics and cartoons.
Wright: Art Critic Harold Rosenburg once said of Abstract Expressionism that the canvas became a place to act “rather than as a space in which to reproduce, redesign, analyze or express an object, actual or imagined . . . The painter no longer approached his easel with an image in his mind; he went up to it with material in his hand to do something to that other piece of material in front of him.”
Slowly this has evolved into literalism as espoused by such artists as Damien Hirst whose had an installation bagged and thrown in the dumpster by a janitor who thought it was the aftermath of a reception party for the artist. Hirst has said of his art that he wants reality not paintings of reality, or in the words of Daniel Kunitz, Hirst wants "truth, not imagination." ("The Art of the Familiar," Harper’s, Aug. 2002)
With your overly detailed images from daily life mingled with random and dream-like images, do you feel as if either one of these approaches to art are embodied in your approach to painting? Is there a sense of immediacey and action as you approach the canvas, or the desire to grasp reality through a form of literalism?
Demaree: No immediacy here. I'm an anal designer. I draw everything out. I use plenty of reference. And after I draw out my to-be painting, making sure my composition confuses the crap out of the reader, I take my carbon paper and begin the long transfer process onto the board I will be painting on. But the fun doesn't stop there. While I'm painting I will think "Oh, crap, what if I?" and so on. You might call that immediate action thinking! And sure all the while I'm thinking about conveying reality through literalism. Sometimes, I stop painting because my hands hurt, and [I will] think "This cow sure would make more sense if it had a face like a clown." Then I will literally paint a clown face on that cow and think how witty and bright I am. And after that I will make up long paragraphs about what I believe the word "art" to mean. And I will push those paragraphs up people’s noses until they believe I am a genius and that my opinions matter. And then [everyone] will buy art that only looks like mine!
Wright: In 1943 Mark Rothko, Adolph Gottlieb and Clyfford Still wrote a letter to the NY Times as Abstract Expressionists explaining that they were “for flat forms because they destroy illusion and reveal truth.”
Is there anything within your paintings or your approach to painting that you feel is an attempt to disclose the truth or a truth or many truths?
Demaree: I don't believe very much in that word. Truth is like fact and it all means nothing to me, when spoken out of context. I believe [that the] sciences [can] explain [the nature of] matter. I don't believe that someone’s opinion is absolute. It can be intriging, witty, and fun, but, most of the time, it's just another silly idea to define that person’s status in social circles. Artist, philosopher, and politician, you are very much like a chimney: Blowing smoke because that's all you really know how to do. My paintings have to do with opinions and blunders. Laughing at everyone because I don't understand them and they can't understand me. Sure I'm trying to understand, and all the little heated debates keep running themselves in circles until exhausted. Pretty pretty pessimism, lets go play.
Wright: What is with the recuring theme of what looks like cells or cell walls, or human muscle in works such as "Everyday Critique," "Gone South," and "Spectacular Spectacle"?
Demaree: I really like Anatomy books! No really! I have a collection of them. Besides, I’m fascnated by the human body’s mechanical movement, it is the tick toc of spirituality—I really like the idea of living space. And what better way to show that than to break open rocks and walls full of the living?
Everyday Critique has tissue and muscle layers of the breast inside the most prominent rock. The painting’s background has two praying mantases making out. And that is life, and here I am throwing Irony at a mans world.
In Gone South there stands a skinless man next to a broken down brain filled ship in the middle of the desert, holding his thumb out to hitch a ride. And I've given up and he's standing naked. Poor pitiful broken self.
The Spectacular Spectacle displays tooth decay in the family circus. And I'll let the reader play with that.
So all my anatomy is worked into the picture. I'm half deaf so you will see the inner ear a lot. Besides being fun for me to paint I really like the sybolism my anatomy books provide me.
Wright: When you title one of your pieces of art, what is your intention—and how important are the titles?
Demaree: The titles are very important to the painting. Sometimes it takes me a good week after painting the picture to title it. Most of the time while I'm working on the piece I'm thinking of a title. Without the title there's no punch. And I think it helps the reader to understand a little more of what I'm trying to convey. When coming up with the title for the Spectacular Spectacle, for example, I thought of circus freaks. Like the amazing two-headed monster, or the man wolf who will shock and terrify you. Spectacular Spectacle combines all of those sideshow banners in two words. Sometimes the title works better than the piece. I notice this more when I'm titling a song. I guess I work the same way. I re-read my songs and bang my head until something sparkles just right.
Wright: Who are some of your favorite contemporary artists?
Demaree: That's a tough one. I'm guessing we're talking painters. Mark Ryden and Robert Williams come to mind. I don't see that many new showings and to tell you the truth I'm not that interested in much art. I do enjoy Winston Smith’s collage. Mojo does some really nice work. There's some really good stuff I've seen in Juxtapoz, but I'm not too good with remembering names. That's pretty much where I see any new art I like. That and comic book stuff. I think Alex Ross is an amazing painter. If it weren't for Bob Schmelzer at Circle A [Skateshop] keeping me updated with the Juxtapoz stuff and my roomate Dan who runs an old comic book shop I used to frequent as a kid, I wouldn't be seeing much new art at all.
Wright: You're also in the band The Unit Breed, what is the relationship between your music and your visual artwork?
Demaree: They’re the same thing to me. I can't stop doing either. Even if I tried I would find myself on some sort of instrument or drawing pad making noise. Yes noise! It's what I'll be doing until I'm dead. Talking and yelling at people using tools like brushes and guitar strings. I practically take the same aproach whether I'm painting or playing music. I write stories and abstract them. Words that work with words, and music that is a sparadic mess of rhythms and abrupt nonsense. It definitly won't get me a record contract or put me on the cover of Time but it sure as hell puts me in a better place.
Wright: What bands have influenced your artwork, and how?
Demaree: NoMeansNo would have to be number 1 in that catagory. There is no other band that can poke fun at philosophy in such an expressive form. Their albums grow just like they do. They have been playing similar music since the ’80s and with each new album I seem to be blown further and further away. I had dipped my head in punk rock at the age of 13 and begun a steady diet of The Dead Kennedys, MDC, Minor Threat, Steel Pole Bathtub, Screeching Weasel, Jawbreaker, The Faction, The Misfits, The Descendents, Black Flag, DI and so on. Some of these bands were filler and good to hear at such a young age because most of the music at that time just seemed like garbage to me and punk rock really felt good and real. These bands helped me to ignore the middle school problems of being cool and hip. Helped me focus on learning more about myself, politics, and a group of good friends. Others who shared similar interests. That music has grown like all things should. Bands I'm more interested in now would be Modest Mouse, Jet's to Brazil, Death Cab for Cutie, Federation X, Rye Coalition, The Narrows, Shellac, Built to Spill and so on. These bands influence me with playing new and interesting music. Some soothing, some disturbing, some just good rock. But they’re all lyrically and musically interesting. I guess that any influence at all has an affect on my artwork seeing that it’s all part of who I am.
Wright: Any advice for artists that are struggling to find their own style?
Demaree: Take note, but remember it's all a matter of opinion. There is no fact in art. There is no giant theory that can be obtained to make you a better artist. All you can do is talk to the viewer, so talk about something you're interested in. As an artist you sure aren't going to find out the answers to the universe, so stop taking yourself so seriously. Listen, here's my story, art school wanted to make me economically viable, but all I wanted to do was refine my technical skill and style I had grown with in high school. I got lucky and had a good art teacher in high school and he made me look into art movements. I was drawn towards the surrealists and cubists. What really worked for me then was to lock myself in a room for several days kicking myself over and over until I figured out what I wanted to do. And then grow into it. Don't worry when everyone's first interpretation is "Oh that looks a lot like Dali" or whoever you might fall close to. There's always going to be borrowed fragments from earlier interests. I'm still thinking about putting together a portfolio as the New Dali and shipping a portfolio of his past works and my recent ones to big art museums just for kicks. Oh yeah, make sure that if you find yourself in a hospital not to tell the nurse your injury was due to werewolf bite. I found that they frown upon such humor. Uh, that's my opinion and, like, stuff man.
If for some reason you are interested in seeing any of my paintings I have a show entitled "See Shell I can't Hear You" up at the Lusty Lady: 1315 First Ave., Seattle, WA. They will be up from Sept. through Nov. Don't be alarmed, it’s a peep show. The artwork is in the lobby, and admission is free. If you want to look at naked girls bring some quarters and mozy into the back. Or if you just want to check out the backs of peoples legs while they're masterbating you can do that too.
I will also be showing in North Carolina at the East Carolina University Jan. 9 through Feb. 9. I'll be speaking on campus, and the reception will be held on Jan. 9. This show will be a retrospective and will include many of my older paintings and drawings, plus brand-new works that have not been shown before.
I also have a web page up with artwork, music, and nonsense at www.nothingenterprises.com. The web page has tons of artwork and I'm still begging my friend Alan who knows his html to put up more images. There are free mp3's of my current band The Unit Breed along with past bands, plus music from other bands that I have released on my label. The fun dosn't stop there! Several journals that discuss everything from cats, to skateboard accidents, along with book, movie, and record reviews, even relationships, burritos, and schizophrenia can be found in the Fun Section.
If you would like to contact me about artwork, music, nonsense, whisper sweet nothings, or tell me that I'm an idiot:
email: joe@nothingenterprises.com
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