Kehinde Wiley

Photo courtesy Kehinde Wiley Studios
Kehinde Wiley’s massive oil paintings cannot be ignored. The urban dressed African American males stare down from their place inside the canvas challenging you to turn your eyes away. “Look at me!” the paintings say, “I will not be ignored!” And I suspect Kehinde Wiley is content that he has caused the viewer to look closely at the role reversal he has created. For me, when I saw his work at the Portland (Oregon) Art Museum, I became transfixed.

His paintings were hung on the top floor of the museum, on the far east wall. They were massive portraits of young urban-dressed African American males posed in the style of the Renaissance masters. The negative areas were filled with a delicate pattern, that somehow related to the subject of the work. Surrounding each portrait was a massive, intricately designed frame, similar to what would be found on a classical painting. What struck me were the images themselves. The men were larger than life, and posed in a way that when the painting was hung, the image would look down on the viewer in a smug, self assured way. Wiley’s work was detailed. Each portrait looked like a photograph. Each young man looked haughtily superior to the viewer.

I sat down to absorb the room. I was surrounded by Kehinde Wiley’s work. Why was I so fascinated? The detail was as real as one could achieve. But it was not only the detail. It was the unusual juxtaposition of young urban black men in their street clothes, posing as if they were famous subjects painted by the Renaissance Old Masters.

I had heard of people becoming affected by art, but it had never happened to me. Yet here I was, mesmerized by something so different, so beautifully executed, I had trouble pulling my eyes away. I felt as if I was in the room with greatness.

I wanted to more about the artist. His bio stated he was 30 years old, and had a Masters Degree in Fine Arts (MFA) from Yale University. Upon graduation, he had exhibited in some of the most prominent galleries in the United States. At 30, he was literally an instant success.

Kehinde Wiley came from South Central Los Angeles, one of the toughest neighborhoods in the area. His mother was aware of Wiley’s talents, and enrolled him and art classes where he excelled. He received a Bachelors of Fine Arts from San Francisco Art Institute, and his MFA in 2001. Scores of articles and interviews have been published on his “Hip Hop Art,” and he has appeared on television. When I heard that Kehinde Wiley was going to visit Portland and talk about his work, I could hardly wait to see him.

My initial impression of him is that he is not a tall man, has a soft, gentle voice, and is smart, and articulate on what inspires him and where he is going with his craft. With large projected images on a nearby screen, Wiley explained why he painted the way he did, and what was the purpose.

Throughout history, Kehinde Wiley explains, portraits were painted of famous or rich white men. They were depicted in their grandeur, many times along with their most valuable possessions. As a child, Wiley would visit museums and art galleries where the portraits of these powerful white men were shown. Wiley recalled one of the turning points in his career was when he saw Gainsborough’s portrait of The Blue Boy at the Huntington Library. The language of this portrait was a disturbing to him. He felt alienated; he could not relate to the image of a white, wealthy man.

In his research, Kehinde Wiley realized that the paintings of wealthy people were purposely distorted. He noted that the works by Titian and Tiepolo depicted the gendership of the subjects. The message had been codified to wealth and power--the wealthy would commission paintings where they would be draped in their finest jewels and dress in their most expensive clothing. The men would pose in a less masculine manner, yet still have the power associated with their wealth. In these Old Master paintings, external beauty was emphasized along with wealth. In fact, throughout history, gender and male beauty is abundant in paintings.

Wiley desired to create a statement that connected social adjustment, while keeping the integrity of the painting’s theme--money and power. He decided to transcribe Hip Hop and early Gangsta Rap into his version of a visual opera. When the Old Masters painted, they come from an era where the artists pushed the boundaries while placating the patrons. Wiley placed societal hypermasculine African American urban males in less masculine poses associated with these classical paintings. He pushes the viewer to consider the class struggle these portraits represent. Film producer, John Morrissey owns three of Wiley’s works. Morrissey believes, “[Wiley’s] engaging a cultural style associated with excess, where diamonds or bling become the status symbol that may have been a royal crest or emblem on a jacket in the past.”

These giants of history could also be mounted on horseback. For example, Kehinde has referenced David’s Napoleon Crossing he St. Bernard Pass with his Napoleon Leading the Army Over the Alps. What Kehinde Wiley found interesting, was that the equestrian figures were painted much larger than the scale of the animal. Here again, one witnesses the power of the individual who overtakes the powerful equine figure. And the animal itself is shown in a more effeminate fashion, with a delicate fetlock, and flowing mane. It is the juxtaposition of the masculine rider overpowering the feminine horse.

Kehinde Wiley not only realized the importance of masculinity in secular depictions, he noticed that religious-themed art elucidated the figures in a form of rapture; that light played a tremendous part in the illusion. He is continually pushing the boundaries and creating tension between figuration and decoration.

Wiley is also interested in wall paper, and how it is used in art during specific time periods. Some of the images showed the patron’s possessions behind him in a landscape formate. Other’s wealth was added as background elements of the interior scene. Wiley began to create a false world of flattened out space that was intricately detailed in a pattern that related to the history of the theme.

Massive frames that reflect the historical period are designed and placed around the portraits. In keeping with his masculinity theme, Kehinde Wiley uses sperm in some sections of both the frame and within some of the portraits, reducing masculinity to its basics.

His subjects are taken from the street and are between 18 and 34 years--the demographic age used to drive the cultural economy. They are selected because of their self possession. Kehinde discusses his idea with each one: that of using the subject as the centerpiece for a counter-culture viewpoint of great art. Wiley then gives the youth a book of classical painted images, and has him select which pose he would like to assume. If the selected subject model appears to be more aggressive, softer, gentler suggestions are shown.

Wiley has a team of apprentices working with him, similar to the Old Masters of long ago. His apprentices do most of the work, leaving Wiley the task of the portrait itself. The subject is photographed, and digitally altered. The backgrounds are painted as well as the body. The massive amount of work completed requires a large team of skilled craftspeople.

Kehinde Wiley has taken his Brooklyn, New York studio global and into China and the African countries of Dakar and Lagos. His most recent work outside the United States is in China, where he has imported African American models to assume the politically inspired classical Mao era propaganda art. In most of the poses, the models are smiling--an artifical-looking grin--to convince the population that the Communist leader’s rules are better than the old ways. Wiley has his models pose in exactly the same way, with grins. However, to show how artificial these grins were, Kehinde video taped the models grinning for 30 minutes. After a short while, the grins became forced. It was almost impossible to have a sincere smile. That is when the image was captured. There is a similarity between Eastern propaganda and that of the West, and Wiley wanted to show it using his Brooklyn models. African Americans from urban cities are beamed by satellite throughout the world and have become an international stage. The images used in his Chinese paintings question identity both locally and internationally. In his Chinese-inspired paintings, Kehinde Wiley incorporates the traditional Chinese textile backgrounds with lacquer frames.

Wiley now is considering the world as his studio, by bringing teams to work together. His African studio uses models from Dakar and Lagos. He is engaging the local population and including studies from the sculptures made during colonialism. The backgrounds will focus on the the patterns and colors of Africa, and the frames will be of local woods.

While he has certainly become an international sensation, fame has only given Wiley the opportunity to explore more areas of art and society. kehinde Wiley continues to push himself in territories where he doesn’t feel comfortable and, by doing so, challenges the viewpoint of what is acceptable culture.

All graphic images are used with the permission from Carrie Mackin of Kehinde Wiley’s studio, www.kehindewiley.com. I want to thank her for her assistance. For current information on lectures, exhibitions, and special projects, visit his website.

Bill Dean, Master of Nostalgia

Bill Dean is a comfortable artist to be around. He is like an old shoe, or that baseball glove you finally broke in. His art, like himself, is part of a comfort era many collectors seek: a peek into the past that triggers nostalgia. Bill Dean is an assemblage artists who finds old treasures that people have donated to thrift stores, or who’s estate doesn’t want. He takes these forgotten pieces and puts them in a three dimensional framed box setting that in itself is a bit of history. When I visited his studio, he had four such pieces. Each one was a one of a kind. And each one triggered a distant memory. Just like talking to Bill Dean, I felt a comfort looking at these boxed objects, and realized that here was something that one would include in one’s collection.

Growing up in Oakland, California, Bill’s college major was art, but didn’t finish his final year. He moved to Portland in 1972 to distance himself from the People’s Park demonstrations in Berkeley. He had no car, and no umbrella, which was somewhat of a disadvantage, because 1972 was an exceptionally wet winter.

His big break came in 1977 when he was selected by the Portland Art Museum to exhibit in the Arts of Portland show. He submitted a drawing. He met, and later became friends with William Jamison, the influential Portland restaurateur and gallery owner. Jamison liked Bill’s work, and would include it in group shows. Through him, Bill met many individuals in the Portland art scene, including Jane Beebe, who owns PDX Contemporary Art. He attributes much of his success to them. However, Dean did not take his art seriously, focusing his energies on his day job of sales and public relations.

He did not become serious about art until he was 52. Before that, Bill would dabble creatively, and talk to others, and make a lot of friends. Because of his ability to make and keep friends, people would contact him for gallery shows.

Good as it appears, having friends cannot keep you in the art scene, there has to be talent, and Bill Dean does have talent. He goes about his work like a detective, remembering one piece he has and matching it with others to create his boxed memories.

On a given Saturday, one will find Bill at estate sales, or thrift stores where he heads straight for the back storage room—usually the place, Bill confides, that is not on the most buyers’ must see list. In these hidden corners is where Bill finds the memories that make up his art. These old pieces tell part of a story and, when all the elements are together, Bill places them neatly in his custom boxed assemblages for new owners to enjoy. The fun, Bill admits, is in the hunt, and as a result, he is more interested in the intuitive part of the process, rather than the analytical.

Many of his art pieces include old photographs. These photographs are matched with objects that might go with the person in the picture. For instance, a person dressed in a baseball uniform might find a new home in a box with a baseball, ticket to a game, and an old glove. Bill states that when he sees something, and buys it, he files it away in his memory bank until all the components are there. Then he builds the entire piece.

Bill admits he has a pretty good visual memory for the objects he has collected over the years--and he has them neatly placed on shelves or in drawers to be picked out when he has collected a few others that trigger a similar response.

He has no muse, however Bill Dean admits to being influenced by Marcel Duchamp, John Cage, and Joseph Cornell. As a child, Bill’s dad took him to museums, and he was, and still is, a voracious reader, and admits that Whitney Otto, author of How to Make an American Quilt, was also an important influence, as a supportive friend and collector.

Dean is at an age where he is comfortable with himself, and he doesn’t take himself serious, like so many younger people. He visits art shows, reads journals, and likes sculptures. No one single artist on the scene today seems to command his attention. He thinks a lot of the current art is media and consumer driven—art for art sake. For amusement, he plays the ukulele, and has a group he plays with who go to retirement homes to entertain.

Those who are interested in getting hold of Bill, can contact him at billwhichway@yahoo.com.

JOROKO-Loaded Art!

The artist who is known as JOROKO grew up in Denver, Colorado, and, aside from a few years in Baltimore, calls Denver home. He comes from a family of creatives. Both his mother and brother are artists. Though he considers himself introverted, when it comes to his art, he is passionate and persistent.

The type of art JOROKO creates is called “LOADED ART!”, and it has evolved from the anarchy of punk rock groups he was associated with, to the assemblage techniques that combine found object, stenciling, and a plastic/gauze wrap. The idea started forming in 2001 when he was working on his senior college thesis statement for his class. His classmates were all doing something similar, and he wanted to be different. At first he used upholstered items and metal. Then it evolved into the use of stenciling He was drawn to American Flags in many positions, the decayed-look of stained gauze/plastic wrap, and punctured holes. When JOROKO used the flags, the work made an impact on the public, which some associate with the politics since 9/11. After the 2004 elections, “LOADED ART!” was born. Some viewers were angry, some were touched. The idea of protest art--art for change, and not profit--was formed.

The minimalist colors used in his work reflect back to his Punk roots, where most of the images were in black and white. Even in college, he preferred working in black and white, and hated using pastels, enjoying charcoals instead. Now, “Loaded Art” continues the narrow color palette, with the stained gauze background wrap that is a light coffee-tan color, stenciled lettering (again from Punk and graffiti artists background), and black images. The piercing or punching of holes are stained in black. There may be a touch of color, but nothing to distract the viewer from the impact of his statement, which at this time is anti-war, anti-big business financing the war, and anti-Bush.

JOROKO discovered galleries are reluctant to show his work because most are conservative. He finds he works best in co-ops and collective galleries. It is apparent that in those venues, the artists seem more passionate about their work. But any time JOROKO has an opportunity to show his art, he will hang it. Some of the more popular sites are restaurants, because there is more exposure in the restaurant than in a gallery opening night.

His art has evolved, from more abstract upholstery and vinyl materials, to stained gauze with shapes, of what it is today. He finds, if people see the work and connect with it, there is an emotion. If someone is offended, they move on, although galleries have been told to take JOROKO’s work down, and some have put a disclaimer on their entrance, nothing really extreme has happened. JOROKO recalled in Baltimore, a man punched one of his pieces, impacted by what he saw.

Does he make money? Yes and no. JOROKO states that he does have a day job, which pays his living expenses. Again, with the Punk influence, he believes that making art for change, not profit, would defy his core beliefs. The sale prices of each work is affordable, although in some higher end galleries, where there is a higher commission and a minimum selling price, JOROKO has been known to raise the price a bit. These sales, and those from other sites, enable him to make enough money to construct his pieces. Traveling expenses comes out of his day job’s wage. When he lived in Baltimore, JOROKO could drive his artwork up and down the east coast, as major cities were close together. Now that he lives in Denver, he must connect his work to galleries by mail. Shipping costs add up quickly. The nearest art town to Denver is Kansas City, Missouri, about 600 miles to the east. When I met him in Portland, Oregon, he was 1250 miles from home. But he tries to make every show if possible.

JOROKO recalls one of the most interesting shows he was involved in took place in 2004 in Washington, D.C. A group called Art-O-Matic (www.artomatic.org) took over a 100,000 square foot building that was going to be gutted, and brought in 700 artists. The artists could do anything. For three and one-half weeks, the all volunteer organization ran the show. There were even bands and poetry. It was amazing.

So how does he make contact with people? JOROKO is always looking for venues for his work. He scours the internet, reads newspapers and magazines, responds to calls for art, juried shows, and solicit to galleries who have ongoing shows. Whenever possible, he tries to make personal contact with gallery owners who can place a face with the name. But the one source that seems to work the best for him is his place on MySpace (Myspace.com/j0r0k0). Someone else had the O’s in his name, so he substituted zeros for the O’s. He has a following in Denver and on the Internet, however he doesn’t know of any other similar artist in the Denver area.

In fact, the Democratic National Convention will be coming to Denver in 2008, forty years after the violence-proned convention was held at the same sit. There is a push for a Recreate ’68 Group, an organization which is recruiting protesters for the 2008 convention (www.recreate68.org). JOROKO is looking online for alliances for his protest art. He is concerned that because there will be extensive security, his art will not be seen within miles of the site. Even the galleries in Denver are reluctant to show his art at that time. JOROKO believes they want to capitalize on the convention.

I asked him if he could meet with anyone about his art, who would it be and what would he talk about? He said he would like to talk to the jurors who make the art selection decisions in the higher, more prestigious galleries and museums. However, upon reflection, he admits that this idea seems a bit off. He feels if he is accepted into a more prestigious gallery, his art would suffer; it would be polluted.

His current project is about four foot square. It incorporates telephone poles, holes, and backwards US flags visible through punched out holes. A teenaged female suicide bomber is positioned up front reading her last will to the viewers. These more figurative pieces are getting more recognition. JOROKO’s art is evolving, and seems to be more recognizable to more viewers. To them, each object has a meaning. There tends to be stronger viewer interpretation, which is good for his protest message.

JOROKO has not been shown overseas, however he is involved with the New York based Antagonist Movement (www.antagovision.com) whom he met online and saw in New York City, and who plans to put together a traveling show that would go to Berlin, Germany. JOROKO will ship some of his art to New York to be apart of their show, and then include his work as it travels to Berlin.

Something that is scratching the back of his mind is the 2008 election. He figures he has about 1-½ years of good protest art going before the national presidential election. After that, he is not sure what he will do. He began his art using vinyl, upholstery, and found objects. Perhaps he will go back to that.

JOROKO invites you to view his website, www.JOROKO.com. Comments are always appreciated, as he reads his email daily. And, of course, he is always looking for gallery space.