Five Questions with
Xavier Lopez Jr.
1. What is your
story--how did you get started?
My father was part of the Chicano Art Movement in California
when I was a kid, and so I kind of grew up with art around me. As a youngster, I alternately spent long
hours reading old dictionaries and picture books. Later on, I was also probably one of the
first generations of what would come to be called latch-key kids. I grew up with TV as my guardian, teacher
etc. watching lots of cartoons and
reading lots of comics and I personally spent a heck of a lot of time watching
old Batman episodes, daydreaming and drawing outside of the margins. But two
things were very important to that period—the first was that my parents were
kind of crazy, something that wasn’t clear to us kids until much later. The
second was that for some reason as a child I could not tell the difference
between what was alive and what was non-living.
I thought all my action figures were alive and just waiting ‘til I left
the room to live their lives and that all my stuffed animals were also alive.
My dad used to do puppet shows for us kids, where he would
take stuffed animals and make them talk to us and look at us, which didn’t help
with the confusion—my brother, who is much smarter than I am was never
fooled—but I wasn’t so lucky. Add to
this a song that we heard that went “You’re nothun’ but a nothun” and I spent
much of my formative years confused about what was unreal and what was reality.
All of this comes up in my paintings, murals and sculpture, but especially in
my performance art.
As a young adult, I went to UC Davis for grad school at a
time when they were still a top five art school and took some classes with Lynn
Hershman (Important performance artist and feminist) and I used to sneak into
Wayne Thiebaud's (famous pop artist) painting classes since I was a sculpture
major and didn't get priority for the painting classes. But even then I was very interested in a kind
of conceptual interdisciplinarity. In
fact, back then I was pretty much a conceptual, minimalist sculptor--I
considered myself a "Conceptual Expressionist" then and that seems to
be even more true today as I begin to mix POP, Conceptualism and Performance
Art into something new and exciting.
2. Tell us about the
White Center mural--how did that come about and what is it about?
Murals bring a
community together, in fact, there
have been many studies published that show that visible art, art on walls, in
community centers, on building walls - anywhere that they can be seen - brings
the entire community up. It is an
important form of communication and bonding that creates community and uplifts
the spirits of its inhabitants.
Places like White Center are even starting to build up mural
walks, where people specifically come to their towns just to see the art that
is on its city walls.
Slowly but surely, it raises the feeling of pride that inhabitants of a city
living with and collectively taking guardianship of shared artworks gain in
themselves--especially when they see that others are talking about their sense
of culture and the beauty on their walls.
I am exceptionally proud to be part of something like this and proud to
speak about the importance that public art brings to any and every
community. Whether that is Fremont,
Ballard, Capitol Hill or White Center.
The Mural itself is a kind of series of fairy tales. Centered around one of my main characters--a
girl of various ages and forms called the Muse--initially, she was based on an ex-girlfriend who really
was the muse that inspired the beginning of this current body of work. In fact it was her that asked me to do the
very first painting of this type that I ever did. Before this, I was working in a minimalist
style and she asked me to do a portrait of her, which was the very beginning of
all of this. That was a pretty magical
time in my life--a life which tends to be pretty magical in general.
3. You recently worked with the Seattle Art
Museum, alongside fellow muralist Ryan "Henry" Ward--are there any
more events like these planned for the future?
PARTNERSHIP WITH SAM
Ryan Henry ward and I are currently planning with the museum
to do some more work with the Seattle Art Museum in the new year, but I am
talking to them about the possibility of doing something sooner--no promises,
but cross your fingers and send us lots of hopeful wishes.
It was quite a wonderful thing to be offered the chance to
work on the first two "live painting" events with the museum and
hopefully this will be a very long-term relationship. Originally, I was looking for a way to become
more connected to the Seattle Art Museum and the wonderful things that they
have been doing with our community. So
you can imagine my surprise and delight when they said yes, they had some very
specific ideas in mind that we could be a part of.
The Seattle Art Museum is perhaps the most important art institution in
Washington and it is the place that all young artists go to learn about the
possibilities of what art can be.
Museums like SAM, Frye, and MOMA are so important to the alternative and
street art scenes--especially, because
they are like a translator - they take history and make it something that we
can grasp, hope, and dream about. As
young artists, we see ourselves every time we walk into these sacred spaces--we
see how we fit in to the panoply of art history. For an artist it is a place of possibilities,
where we meet our artistic mothers and fathers.
It must be a huge responsibility putting together the work, especially in
Seattle's art museums, because through what they choose to show young artists
they have a huge influence and impact on the future of Seattle and Washington
art. It is awesome when you think about
the fact that historically, it has always been the galleries, museums and
salons that artists went to learn to paint and communicate.
6.
So what is this Subpop Art movement we are hearing so much about?
Yes, Subpop, Seapop or Seabrow as it has been called is an
alternative art movement that has been building up steam for the last several
years. This is Sub 'Pop Art'—as in
something beneath 'Pop Art' or a kind of abject 'Pop Art.' It is Seattle’s own kind of 'Pop' which is a
bit more visceral, a bit more street, a bit more 'wheat-pastey', lyrical,
whimsical and immediate than some of the other schools of art and includes such
artists as myself, Ryan Henry Ward, Andy
Miller, Tnglr, Hera Won, Jonathan Wakuda Fischer and many others—many, who may
not even consider themselves to be part of the movement. It is art, that, while it may seem to be
friendly, even saccharin sweet at times, in fact has much more going on and might
even be considered to have a very dark side.
Seattle's take on art
is actually different than many other art scenes —gone is the purity and
the reserved bombast of the moderns and even the identity politics of the post
moderns—everything is messy,
carnivalesque and filled with a jouissance that seemed to just be missing from
most of the art of today. It is not a
single-issue movement—and does not fit neatly into any one category.
I believe that Seattle's art connotes a break and a shift
from the groups of the most recent post modern. We are more attuned to
the work of and spirit of the Dadaists, the Hairy Who, The Monster Roster,
Fluxus and the Funk Artists of California and though it might not seem
immediately obvious—to the work of Marcel Duchamp.
4. What does the future look like?
For me the future and the present includes bringing all of
the various aspects of my artwork together--to find the intersections, breaks
and especially the breakdowns of art and especially of Pop Art. It is especially important to me to use any
and all of my abilities, no matter how varied they might be, to take the art of the margins from the margins, as unchanged as
possible and bring it to the center/the
people. Street art, wheat-pastes, graffiti, murals, children's art,
performance art–this all becomes a kind of sub-popart.
I hold onto the grungy edges and create a kind of “Lo-fi
art” that owes more to the static on the radio, the constant rain in the
background and the dust-bunnies in the corner of the room; it isn’t always
pretty, the edges aren’t always cleaned up, the picture isn’t always framed
during a time when everything else is trying to look slick and panders to the
sensibilities of the viewer. Right now
art has become needy and pandering.
In fact, this is part of what I see as being the best aspect
of Seattle's best artists--they do what they need to do and use any and all
means to get the work out to everybody—we
take over, make and become our own galleries. We use every
existing venue available to us from the walls of buildings, telephone poles,
electrical boxes, newspaper boxes, antique shops, parks, bus stops, even taking
over people’s homes, from wheat-pastes and graffiti, to shoving flyers,
posters, stickers and invitations into the local Stranger newspapers —the idea
is not to become the machine, but rather
to circumvent the modes and methods of exposure for our work—to get
directly to the people and to infest their thinking to the point that we can
become part of Seattle’s internal thinking processes. As Ryan
"Henry" Ward, (my main compatriot in much of what I do)--put it, the
idea was that these murals, wheat-pastes, etc. would stick in the minds of the
people and art would infect/inflect them like a “virus”.
Hello, I
wanted to follow up on my earlier message to you. I have taken the liberty of
answering five questions that amount to an interview--predominantly dealing
with the current mural that I am painting in White Center, Washington. I also
speak of art in general and of the Seattle Art Movement SUB-POPArt of which I
am a part. Please feel free to use any of these questions and answers in whole
or in part at your discretion. Or, if you would rather set up an interview with
me--please feel free to contact me via Facebook or at xavierlopezjr@gmail.com.
Five Questions with Xavier Lopez Jr.
1. What is
your story--how did you get started?
My father
was part of the Chicano Art Movement in California when I was a kid, and so I
kind of grew up with art around me. As a youngster, I alternately spent long
hours reading old dictionaries and picture books. Later on, I was also probably
one of the first generations of what would come to be called latch-key kids. I
grew up with TV as my guardian, teacher etc. watching lots of cartoons and
reading lots of comics and I personally spent a heck of a lot of time watching
old Batman episodes, daydreaming and drawing outside of the margins. But two
things were very important to that period—the first was that my parents were
kind of crazy, something that wasn’t clear to us kids until much later. The
second was that for some reason as a child I could not tell the difference
between what was alive and what was non-living. I thought all my action figures
were alive and just waiting ‘til I left the room to live their lives and that
all my stuffed animals were also alive. My dad used to do puppet shows for us kids,
where he would take stuffed animals and make them talk to us and look at us,
which didn’t help with the confusion—my brother, who is much smarter than I am
was never fooled—but I wasn’t so lucky. Add to this a song that we heard that
went “You’re nothun’ but a nothun” and I spent much of my formative years
confused about what was unreal and what was reality. All of this comes up in my
paintings, murals and sculpture, but especially in my performance art.
As a young
adult, I went to UC Davis for grad school at a time when they were still a top
five art school and took some classes with Lynn Hershman (Important performance
artist and feminist) and I used to sneak into Wayne Thiebaud's (famous pop
artist) painting classes since I was a sculpture major and didn't get priority
for the painting classes. But even then I was very interested in a kind of
conceptual interdisciplinarity. In fact, back then I was pretty much a
conceptual, minimalist sculptor--I considered myself a "Conceptual
Expressionist" then and that seems to be even more true today as I begin
to mix POP, Conceptualism and Performance Art into something new and exciting.
2. Tell us
about the White Center mural--how did that come about and what is it about?
Murals bring
a community together, in fact, there have been many studies published that show
that visible art, art on walls, in community centers, on building walls -
anywhere that they can be seen - brings the entire community up. It is an
important form of communication and bonding that creates community and uplifts
the spirits of its inhabitants. Places like White Center are even starting to
build up mural walks, where people specifically come to their towns just to see
the art that is on its city walls.
Slowly but
surely, it raises the feeling of pride that inhabitants of a city living with
and collectively taking guardianship of shared artworks gain in
themselves--especially when they see that others are talking about their sense
of culture and the beauty on their walls. I am exceptionally proud to be part
of something like this and proud to speak about the importance that public art
brings to any and every community. Whether that is Fremont, Ballard, Capitol
Hill or White Center. The Mural itself is a kind of series of fairy tales.
Centered around one of my main characters--a girl of various ages and forms
called the Muse--initially, she was based on an ex-girlfriend who really was
the muse that inspired the beginning of this current body of work. In fact it
was her that asked me to do the very first painting of this type that I ever
did. Before this, I was working in a minimalist style and she asked me to do a
portrait of her, which was the very beginning of all of this. That was a pretty
magical time in my life--a life which tends to be pretty magical in general.
3. You
recently worked with the Seattle Art Museum, alongside fellow muralist Ryan
"Henry" Ward--are there any more events like these planned for the
future?
PARTNERSHIP
WITH SAM
Ryan Henry
ward and I are currently planning with the museum to do some more work with the
Seattle Art Museum in the new year, but I am talking to them about the
possibility of doing something sooner--no promises, but cross your fingers and
send us lots of hopeful wishes. It was quite a wonderful thing to be offered
the chance to work on the first two "live painting" events with the
museum and hopefully this will be a very long-term relationship. Originally, I
was looking for a way to become more connected to the Seattle Art Museum and
the wonderful things that they have been doing with our community. So you can
imagine my surprise and delight when they said yes, they had some very specific
ideas in mind that we could be a part of.
The Seattle
Art Museum is perhaps the most important art institution in Washington and it
is the place that all young artists go to learn about the possibilities of what
art can be. Museums like SAM, Frye, and MOMA are so important to the
alternative and street art scenes--especially, because they are like a
translator - they take history and make it something that we can grasp, hope,
and dream about. As young artists, we see ourselves every time we walk into
these sacred spaces--we see how we fit in to the panoply of art history. For an
artist it is a place of possibilities, where we meet our artistic mothers and
fathers.
It must be a
huge responsibility putting together the work, especially in Seattle's art
museums, because through what they choose to show young artists they have a
huge influence and impact on the future of Seattle and Washington art. It is
awesome when you think about the fact that historically, it has always been the
galleries, museums and salons that artists went to learn to paint and
communicate.
6. So what
is this Subpop Art movement we are hearing so much about?
Yes, Subpop,
Seapop or Seabrow as it has been called is an alternative art movement that has
been building up steam for the last several years. This is Sub 'Pop Art'—as in
something beneath 'Pop Art' or a kind of abject 'Pop Art.' It is Seattle’s own
kind of 'Pop', and while I can't speak for everyone, much of it is a bit more
visceral, a bit more street, a bit more lyrical, whimsical and immediate than
some of the other schools of art and includes such artists as myself, Ryan
Henry Ward, Andy Miller, Tnglr, Hera Won, Jonathan Wakuda Fischer and many
others—many, who may not even consider themselves to be part of the movement.
It is art, that, while it may seem to be friendly, even saccharin sweet at
times, in fact has much more going on and might even be considered to have a
dark side.
Seattle's
take on art is actually different than many other art scenes —gone is the
purity and the reserved bombast of the moderns and even the identity politics
of the post moderns—Some of it is messy, carnivalesque and filled with a
jouissance that seemed to just be missing from most of the art of today. It is
not a single-issue movement—and does not fit neatly into any one category. I
believe that Seattle's art connotes a break and a shift from the groups of the
most recent post modern. We are more attuned to the work of and spirit of the
Dadaists, the Hairy Who, The Monster Roster, Fluxus and the Funk Artists of
California and though it might not seem immediately obvious—to the work of
Marcel Duchamp.
4. What does
the future look like?
For me the
future and the present includes bringing all of the various aspects of my
artwork together--to find the intersections, breaks and especially the
breakdowns of art and especially of Pop Art. It is especially important to me
to use any and all of my abilities, no matter how varied they might be, to take
the art of the margins from the margins, as unchanged as possible and bring it
to the center/the people. Street art, murals, children's art, performance
art–this all becomes a kind of sub-popart.
I hold onto the grungy edges and create a kind of “Lo-fi art” that owes
more to the static on the radio, the constant rain in the background and the
dust-bunnies in the corner of the room; it isn’t always pretty, the edges
aren’t always cleaned up, the picture isn’t always framed during a time when
everything else is trying to look slick and panders to the sensibilities of the
viewer. Right now art has become needy and pandering.
In fact,
this is part of what I see as being the best aspect of Seattle's best
artists--they do what they need to do and use any and all means to get the work
out to everybody—we take over, make and become our own galleries. We use every
existing venue available to us from the walls of buildings, telephone poles,
electrical boxes, newspaper boxes, antique shops, parks, bus stops, even taking
over people’s homes, from murals and performances to shoving flyers, posters,
stickers and invitations into the local Stranger newspapers —the idea is not to
become the machine, but rather to circumvent the modes and methods of exposure
for our work—to get directly to the people and to infest their thinking to the
point that we can become part of everyone’s internal thinking processes. As
Ryan "Henry" Ward, (my main compatriot in much of what I do)--put it,
the idea was that these murals etc. would stick in the minds of the people and
art would infect/inflect them like a “virus”.



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