A Minute, maybe 2, with Christopher Garrett
Hi! This is a newsletter about artists I like.
I began acquiring art through some friends that worked in galleries. I started small, working on a limited budget, for stuff I could afford. As time passed, my collection grew, and it was exciting to watch many of the artists I'd collected go on to bigger shows and critical acclaim. My goal with this newsletter is to make a digestible resource for anyone interested in artists that are making great (and still affordable!) work, whom you haven't heard about... yet.
Let’s get right into it…..
I came across your work about 7 or 8 years ago I think because a couple people were posting about grabbing one of your works through a LA thrift shop-hunt of sorts…Can you talk about that a bit more? By the way, still pissed I wasn’t able to get one of those.
CG: Yes, the thrift store project was instigated by a few different factors.
One: Living in Los Angeles had cracked my brain. The jobs, the lack of jobs, and the "blood money" jobs I was working at the time cracked my brain. I had previously spent a season in Northern California working as a field hand on an organic produce farm. The inertia of connectedness with the earth and nature had drained quickly as I relocated to Los Angeles shortly afterwards. I had trouble finding a groove. The idea of sharing ideas there was strained within my small circle. I found myself in a deep funk and severely depressed. I was disappointed in allowing myself to be back in such a rat race, grinding away to no end to make the rent, and doing so with no love, personally or artistically. My small studio apartment sucked the life out of me and every waking moment seemed like a struggle. Everything had become soured, convoluted. Looking back, it could have been so breezy, but the brain doesn't alway allow for that perspective. I knew I wanted to show some art and I knew I wanted to make money from doing that. I wanted to live off of my artwork...wouldn't that be nice? But I was reliant upon what I had made in the past to get me into those conversations, and not living in the present. People move on pretty quickly, you know? I was self-sabotaging and didn't know it. I really had a problem with the concept that the wonderful universe of art, creating and experimenting, had, of course, become baptized in capitalistic waters. To be groovy in the scene, man, didn't exist in LA 2013. If I could, if I had the means to do so, I would just rent some real estate to use as temporary spaces and have my work in there and bypass gallery shit altogether. Or permanently. Not sure. To sidestep around the gatekeepers is necessary if they aren't into what you make. I have found, unfortunately, this is the case when it comes to me. Frustrated with the "system", but ultimately frustrated with myself, I scoured the LA infrastructure searching for a strange but satisfying venue where I could hang my paintings temporarily. My paintings at the time were in a beta flux: they weren't perfect, and that is how I liked them. They might seem paltry to some, but they meant a lot to me. The deal with depression is that the waywardness will overwhelm you quickly. When you are alone, you are really alone(or so you may think). This ultimately was a big moment for me, realizing this. No one was waking up thinking about me and how they could help me. People have their own lives to deal with! Their own dynamics and dreams. If I wanted to make anything happen, I would have to do it myself. I would have to step out of the funk; make the funk flow instead. The way out of depression is to set very realistic, attitude-shifting goals. Baby steps out of the cellar. So, I literally just painted a series of staircases floating in space, and worked on these every day, every night, slowly providing a purpose that helped me to not worry, to stay engaged, to be excited about how things could turn out. After I had finished, what twisted me up inside was the idea of making money from these healing paintings. Initially, I had considered selling them for 50-100 a pop. Just to keep it entertaining, I suppose. But considering the futile hope that I have placed in the past of selling artwork, it would ultimately lead to severe disappointment. I have been delusional from day one. So, I decided to give these staircase paintings away, but giving away to friends sometimes undermines the very concept of time and energy and effort. People take what you do for granted after a while. I say this after many years of sharing my art with friends and family. It becomes a lowly hobby, to be hung behind the bathroom door and dusted every morning by the towels hanging on the back of that door brushing against it.
Then one day, almost like an epiphany, I remembered that if you donate anything in decent condition to a thrift store or charity shop, they are almost mandated to put it out on the floor. Anything that will make any amount of money for their organization goes out rather quickly. I decided that this was the answer: Donate the works to a thrift store and have an instant exhibition. An odd, fantastic system within which to show my paintings. The audience would be random, the setting devoid of the sterile and often off-putting ambience of a traditional gallery. There would be no financial gain for me, but it wasn't self-sabotaging: it was charity on a pure level. A small sacrifice to keep it weird and keep it moving. I had never heard of someone doing this intentionally, and so the idea seemed almost as important as the act itself.
I dropped the paintings off at the St Vincent De Paul on my way out to Palm Springs to work on a photo shoot. I asked an employee there how long it usually takes to process donations. He told me the paintings would be put out on the floor in the morning. So, the following morning, on my way to location, I posted about the "exhibition" on ig. A few hours later there was some noise being made online about it. Some very interesting people showed up early and wrangled the works out, posting images of the paintings arranged on furniture in the store. I saw that this was something that connected with people, and it made me feel connected in turn. I used a small loophole to make my experience in painting and life fun and easy and weird and cheap and interesting. It subverted the exclusivity and expense of gallery offerings. I have repeated this project three more times.
Can you describe your style of painting?
I cannot! Because it changes. (although people that are familiar with what I have made over the years see my new paintings and say it looks exactly like my style). I strive to improve constantly. Having not gone to art school, I feel like I am still learning every day. I love hand-drawn, fried-out art. I am not a fan of square art. I love art that seems unfinished, vulnerable, personal, fragile. I go to great lengths to project similar feelings into what I make, while at the same time being a perfectionist, within my constraints. I love how Katarina Wulff paints. I love how insane Bruegel's world is explained. Seeing the older, classic, fantastic Hockneys at the Met retrospective years ago, I loved seeing the pencil marks on the canvas left to be. This helped me a lot in leaving or incorporating my drawing background exposed. It is easier for me to make a series of paintings, rather than individual paintings. This provides a structure that I can deviate within more efficiently. I paint rather slowly, and mainly paint flat, with the canvases lying face up on tables. I usually water down my paint and apply wash after wash, building up layers over time. This enables me to make changes without heavy build up.
What’s currently serving as motivation/inspiration/etc. for ya?
CG: I have put myself in a position where there is nothing left to do but paint. I have no real family, friends are around but scattered, no gallery interest or assistance, no savings, tons of debt, no health insurance, no lover, no permanent residence. I sold almost everything I had to step away from full time work and focus on being an artist, because of the simple fact that I only have myself. I have to try to live a life that I envision for myself regardless of the circumstances that have held me back, mainly mentally, over the years. Sometimes I will sell a painting and I let people make as many payments as they need for as long as they need to pay it off. (This is a great option for many who were under the impression that art is super expensive and can't participate. Payment plans should be advertised!). This means funds can come in waves though, either there is a nice chunk of change to live on or absolutely nothing at all. I have learned to manage this rollercoaster anxiety after working freelance for decades. Sometimes cash gets low. That's what a walk in the park is for. Smelling a flower is free. I have very little, and it will no doubt get worse, before it might get better? This is motivation for me. Having nothing. Making something out of nothing. No one cares about what I do but me, so it is fun to impress myself! I chose this life, so I have to live it as such, to the best of my abilities. Not everyone is going to "make" it; the approach I take in regards to this fact is the key to a substantial journey.
What's on the agenda for you and the remainder of the year ? Any shows coming up this year or next?
CG: I am currently in a sublet in Kingston(upstate NY), starting on some new paintings, and also getting back into drawing after many years of not. I will be heading down to work behind the scenes at the main fair in Miami in a couple of weeks, as I need money and it pays well and could get me through to the end of the year. I used to be quite adverse to working fairs, after traveling with the Deitch circus for so many years. But now I found a situation that makes sense. We shall see. I also love swimming in the warm waters of Florida in December, so that is a plus!
In February, I will show the last of my skyscraper paintings in San Francisco, alongside the honorable, transcendent Cliff Hengst. Jason Leggiere, who used to run Quotidian gallery(where I had a show or two in the early 00's), is organizing. Very excited to curate a reference table there also, if it happens, similar to the one I had at South Willard in 2021. I think adding a deeper context for exhibitions is more satisfying!
I have nothing in the works besides that, unfortunately! I really thought I could find a place to exhibit my window painting series in NY, but it ain't happening. Not even in a group show! It is a bummer, but I have to move beyond that now. To be a life artist, one has to be able to keep moving, keep working. This is very important! So when I get back from Miami, I will be unstretching and rolling up those paintings and moving out of storage in NY. Storage is so unaffordable! It would be nice to get a permanent studio, for sure, but who knows what will happen. The future is unwritten, indeed. One can dream!
My next series will be about funerals...
Hopefully this newsletter encourages all to get involved, even if they may live in a remote spot or a small town, what are some references you would encourage our readers to use for further educating themselves?
CG: Hmmm yes... let's see...
I like to read collections of art reviews, like Bob Nickas' "The Department of Corrections", Janet Malcom's "Forty-one False Starts", Peter Schjedahl's "Hot, Cold, Heavy, Light", etc. Even if you don't agree, often there is source material presented that can send you off into a deeper dive. Maybe Paul Chan's collected essays, Guston's "I Paint What I Want To See", Hoving's "Making The Mummies Dance". All of these books by and about art and presentation are very interesting to me. The Leonardo DaVinci biography. Mary Gabriel's "Ninth Street Women". "Seeing Is Forgetting The Name Of The Thing One Sees'" with Robert Irwin. "Vile Days" collection of Gary Indiana's Village Voice art column. Any of Etel Adnan's books of poetry. That kind of thing.
The internet is vast. Galleries around the world document their exhibitions and put it up for anyone to see. Most museums as well. I love to go deep into the archives of museums and institutions and see what I find. The Cooper Hewitt Smithsonian Museum of Design Collection, The Met, MOMA, Secession, The Prado, The Tate, Barberini/Cosini, the Stedelijk, etc. etc. All of their archives are cuckoo.
I have definitely made connections and discoveries via instagram. Hard to deny, but not always easy to appreciate actual artwork on such a small screen format.
It is often like a large bulletin board with fliers and invitations and offers.
Who should we have on next?
CG: Evan Jourden, Anna Lea Hucht, Colter Jacobson
Can you send pictures of your current studio set up?
CG: Yes, but maybe just one! haha It is very tricky to shoot, but has a nice skylight!
More info on Christopher’s site HERE. And his Insta HERE.
Linkage Report
Some merch for Alex Katz and Henry Taylor current exhibits.
Last week Nota Bene had Jason Rubell on and he had some great advice in the 80’s for his pals about getting into collecting and didn’t know where to go….worth a listen HERE.