Sketch Series (#2)
What if Salvador Dali was born in 1983 instead of 1904?
Imagine his childhood filled with images of urban America instead of the beautiful countrysides of Spain. What would his work look like if he painted out of a studio in Brooklyn, a product of this generation, influenced by our fashion, music, and style?
Envision a Salvador painting about the issues facing modern society, inspired by things like the internet, social media, corporate america, politics, religion, and more. Witness Dali’s masterpieces reworked through an updated lens as art history collides with modern culture. I intend to pick up where he left off, with more than fifty years of perspective to guide me along they way. It is a humble tribute to my greatest inspiration.
Sketch Series (#2)
24 X 48″ Acrylic on Canvas, 2013
A great deal of time was spent conceptualizing this show. I would focus on specific elements of his work, and try to figure out the best way to reinterpret them into relevant, current statements. Dali painted and sketched many woman whose heads were bouquets of flowers. Often times these were roses, symbolic representations of the female.
For many months, I could not figure out a concept that worked. It was simply not enough to arrange an alternate bouquet, with more colorful and dynamic orchids for instance. I needed to connect it at two ends; at one side to Dali, and the other to me. Then I reflected on all the thoughts the first page of those big books set off in my head, and It clicked.
You see, urban America isn’t lined with carefully manicured flower beds. It’s hard to find a city garden these days, especially where there is not much sun in America’s ghettos. Yes, roses do grow from concrete. But they are few and far between, and Baltimore roses are more thorn than petal. Imagine if the inner city was also planned, planted, and protected? Watered and well looked after? More flowers would grow. I know that.
So rather than flowers and colorful clusters of roses, we grew up with crab grass, weeds and dandelions. Those “city gardens” were our hangout, our playground, our escape route, and our proving ground. I remember blowing away the seeds on the white ones, making wishes about the future while they flew out of sight. I’m convinced that was how my family felt when they would watch my taillights fade away at the bottom of the block. I was theIr wish. Sent high in the air to the big city, while the stem was left empty.