While I was going through the motions of existing as a 21st Century Painter, the world was plunged into panic with the widespread devastation of the COVID-19 Pandemic.
In early 2020, I began a new set of plein-air paintings informed by my newfound familiarity with my surroundings in Denver, Colorado. After dealing with the initial shock that comes with moving to a new place, I began a shift in focus from direct subject matter (i.e. bars, specific mesas, and centers of economy and industry) to compositions influenced by structures that usually exist in the ephemeral incident. That is what Season II is comprised of, a push from centers of commerce and lived experience (where I had previously been so eager to infiltrate with my French easel) to a new periphery. A periphery outlined by a virus wily and severe.
A concrete example of this switch was moving from the interior of a Grateful Dead-themed concert venue to its exterior. I painted an outdoor “patio” (more of a hut, with a precarious food service operation), where I had spent countless evenings reveling in communion with Deadheads. I interacted with a man I had met several times associated with the venue, telling me he had been living in his Econoline outside to ensure looters weren’t casing the joint for the goldmine in Dead merchandise and paraphernalia that lined the walls. We spoke of a time when we could all congregate again and went out separate ways.
Two weeks later after a string of bad press regarding their numerous attempts at opening to serve drinks, it is believed squatters set fire to the facility.
This incident spoke to me as a true “sign of the times”. You can’t get “in” anywhere, and you’re not necessarily safe outside either.
The time I spent painting observationally in the Spring and Summer of 2020 in Denver, Colorado pushed me to reevaluate why I was painting spiritually. No longer the Painter-as-Spectacle, I became an explorer examining territories I was beginning to perceive as familiar at a time when familiarity was at a scarcity. These works should be read as episodic in nature and have been to the best of my recollection organized in reverse-chronological order[*].
christopher j. graham
baltimore, md
[*] It should be noted there are exactly two omissions from Season II, as one painting was a gift to a family member for her home office and the other was traded for six buffalo wings and a cup of water.
In early 2020, I began a new set of plein-air paintings informed by my newfound familiarity with my surroundings in Denver, Colorado. After dealing with the initial shock that comes with moving to a new place, I began a shift in focus from direct subject matter (i.e. bars, specific mesas, and centers of economy and industry) to compositions influenced by structures that usually exist in the ephemeral incident. That is what Season II is comprised of, a push from centers of commerce and lived experience (where I had previously been so eager to infiltrate with my French easel) to a new periphery. A periphery outlined by a virus wily and severe.
A concrete example of this switch was moving from the interior of a Grateful Dead-themed concert venue to its exterior. I painted an outdoor “patio” (more of a hut, with a precarious food service operation), where I had spent countless evenings reveling in communion with Deadheads. I interacted with a man I had met several times associated with the venue, telling me he had been living in his Econoline outside to ensure looters weren’t casing the joint for the goldmine in Dead merchandise and paraphernalia that lined the walls. We spoke of a time when we could all congregate again and went out separate ways.
Two weeks later after a string of bad press regarding their numerous attempts at opening to serve drinks, it is believed squatters set fire to the facility.
This incident spoke to me as a true “sign of the times”. You can’t get “in” anywhere, and you’re not necessarily safe outside either.
The time I spent painting observationally in the Spring and Summer of 2020 in Denver, Colorado pushed me to reevaluate why I was painting spiritually. No longer the Painter-as-Spectacle, I became an explorer examining territories I was beginning to perceive as familiar at a time when familiarity was at a scarcity. These works should be read as episodic in nature and have been to the best of my recollection organized in reverse-chronological order[*].
christopher j. graham
baltimore, md
[*] It should be noted there are exactly two omissions from Season II, as one painting was a gift to a family member for her home office and the other was traded for six buffalo wings and a cup of water.
