Steve R. Coffey Artist Statement
I'm a sky watcher. I'm a curious onlooker. I study light and the optics of illusion. I love the art of storytelling. I love colour. I'm drawn to patterned intricacies of land and atmospheric abstractions of sky. I'm drawn to the mystery of our own existence somewhere in between. My impressions are presented in oil on canvas.
I was trained as a sculptor with a leaning toward formalism and abstraction but my voice wasn't being fully realized in the three dimensional world. So, by way of my love for drawing of the figure and landscape to my attraction to colour and gesture I made the obvious leap to oil paint.
My paintings are mental snapshots. I don't paint from photographs and I seldom paint plein air. Essentially I gather what strikes me, file it away in my head and draw on it in my studio. These mental files I call ‘Memory Polaroids’ of which I think of as a mingling of what's around me with a subconscious inkling of perception of what was, similar to the otherworldly quality of a polaroid picture. This process offers me the freedom to step outside a more traditional palette into what I consider to be the real nature's abstraction.
My philosophy (with a tint of opinion) is that art derives from a personal place and must first pass that inside test before it is let loose to speak publicly. But for me the completion of a work of art is simply a remnant of that moment of expression. At that point the piece is no longer as important to me hence why it is easy to let it go and to move on. A physical painting created yesterday gets in the way of the perceived one being created today. The only value to draw on is what may have made yesterday’s work of art successful enough to let it enter the outside world. It is the informant that instigates progression. Nothing more. It is no longer mine as such but an echo of a voice speaking elsewhere in the world, in wherever it ends up and takes on a new role as some sort of purveyor. Now, hopefully, important to somebody else for whatever reason.
For me, the truth is: Art that comes from that natural human need to create will find it’s place organically and therefore should travel carefully through superficial realms such as contests, awards and competitions. There, there is little more than judging the ‘flavor of the day’. Unless they are designed with integrated teaching tools, competitions and contests risk belittling true expression rather than encouraging it by suggesting that only a select few can do it well and ultimately, can set a poor precedent for our aspiring future artists. With art making there is no right or wrong. My process is an ongoing artistic refinement using intuition, instinct and inspiration gathered from what’s around me and those I hold dear and without any public voice saying: “you should create this”.
I don’t rely on other’s artistic approval. Just my own.
To quote the great Larry Poons: “My only defense against fate (is) colour”.
In the end I would hope that my work triggers the feeling of familiarity, that somewhere at sometime the viewer has seen or felt this; a familiar mystery that lives on the tip of the tongue. I would hope that my work is accessible for simply what it is; a painting left to interpretation with no tricks.
I'm a sky watcher. I'm a curious onlooker. I study light and the optics of illusion. I love the art of storytelling. I love colour. I'm drawn to patterned intricacies of land and atmospheric abstractions of sky. I'm drawn to the mystery of our own existence somewhere in between. My impressions are presented in oil on canvas.
I was trained as a sculptor with a leaning toward formalism and abstraction but my voice wasn't being fully realized in the three dimensional world. So, by way of my love for drawing of the figure and landscape to my attraction to colour and gesture I made the obvious leap to oil paint.
My paintings are mental snapshots. I don't paint from photographs and I seldom paint plein air. Essentially I gather what strikes me, file it away in my head and draw on it in my studio. These mental files I call ‘Memory Polaroids’ of which I think of as a mingling of what's around me with a subconscious inkling of perception of what was, similar to the otherworldly quality of a polaroid picture. This process offers me the freedom to step outside a more traditional palette into what I consider to be the real nature's abstraction.
My philosophy (with a tint of opinion) is that art derives from a personal place and must first pass that inside test before it is let loose to speak publicly. But for me the completion of a work of art is simply a remnant of that moment of expression. At that point the piece is no longer as important to me hence why it is easy to let it go and to move on. A physical painting created yesterday gets in the way of the perceived one being created today. The only value to draw on is what may have made yesterday’s work of art successful enough to let it enter the outside world. It is the informant that instigates progression. Nothing more. It is no longer mine as such but an echo of a voice speaking elsewhere in the world, in wherever it ends up and takes on a new role as some sort of purveyor. Now, hopefully, important to somebody else for whatever reason.
For me, the truth is: Art that comes from that natural human need to create will find it’s place organically and therefore should travel carefully through superficial realms such as contests, awards and competitions. There, there is little more than judging the ‘flavor of the day’. Unless they are designed with integrated teaching tools, competitions and contests risk belittling true expression rather than encouraging it by suggesting that only a select few can do it well and ultimately, can set a poor precedent for our aspiring future artists. With art making there is no right or wrong. My process is an ongoing artistic refinement using intuition, instinct and inspiration gathered from what’s around me and those I hold dear and without any public voice saying: “you should create this”.
I don’t rely on other’s artistic approval. Just my own.
To quote the great Larry Poons: “My only defense against fate (is) colour”.
In the end I would hope that my work triggers the feeling of familiarity, that somewhere at sometime the viewer has seen or felt this; a familiar mystery that lives on the tip of the tongue. I would hope that my work is accessible for simply what it is; a painting left to interpretation with no tricks.