Jonathan Edelhuber
Arkansas Eyes
March 2023

Ampersand is pleased to present Arkansas Eyes, an online exhibition of 22 new drawings and an interview with artist Jonathan Edelhuber, whose paintings were previously featured here at Ampersand in his 2020 solo exhibition, Quarantine Skulls. A native of Arkansas who currently lives and works in Clarksville, Tennessee, Edelhuber received his BFA in Graphic Design from Harding University in 2007. His paintings, drawings and sculptures have been widely exhibited in group and solo exhibitions, including recently with Hey There Projects (Joshua Tree), ZieherSmith (Nashville), NBB Gallery (Berlin), Galerie Sébastien Bertrand (Geneva) and Fabian Fryns Fine Art (Dubai). Forthcoming exhibitions in 2023 will be at Over The Influence (Los Angeles) and NBB Gallery (Berlin).

AMPERSAND: You also collect art books. When did that start? And how did that evolve into your Book Drawings, several of which we have offered here at Ampersand. Visually, those feel pretty straight forward, almost like you are saying, “hey, these are the artists I like.” But I also suspect your intentional combination of artist names in a given painting or drawing is also meant to conjure specific associations. Or am I reading into it? 

EDELHUBER: My first art books were these tiny pocket-sized art books on the Masters. My mom and dad gave them to me back in the 90s and I still have them in my studio. The book drawings and paintings came about because I wanted to paint a still life of some sort and needed to find my way of doing it. The paintings with the book spines alone are verging on abstract. They're mostly about line, color, and surface, but the names of the books and artists do hold a great deal of importance. They're artists I like, of course, but they're also a cognitive curation in a way. Most of the time (if not all of the time) the artists within the composition are related in some way or another. I recently showed a still life sculpture that had a stack of books with a Keith Haring heart on top as a sculpture. The still life was a dedication to Donald Baechler who had recently passed. So, in this particular still life, Keith's heart was intended for Donald, and I had a Basquiat book in there as well because of his connection with Keith. Then there's the fact that they were all NYC artists of significance. So, just a string of thoughts like that. I think if anyone looks at them long enough, they'll see the connections.

AMPERSAND: The Book Drawings also, in a way, connect back to the types of images you were drawing and painting back in the fall of 2019. That’s when we first discussed collaborating on an exhibition, which ultimately didn’t transpire until November 2020. In that period, your work went through a notable shift. In particular, you started painting one skull motif over and over. As we’ve discussed, a big part of this was influenced by COVID and quarantine, hence the title of the exhibition, Quarantine Skulls. Looking back, though—now three years removed—would you say anything else was influencing your evolution as an artist then? Surely that skull image didn’t self-manifest, though it does feel serendipitous.

EDELHUBER: It's hard to say exactly what all has influenced the skulls. It might be easier to narrow it down by what hasn't influenced the them! Covid gave me a lot of time to contemplate everything. I would like to think all artists are influenced by everything they have experienced up to the point of creating a piece. For me, the skulls say a lot. Most people see skulls as being dark or death-related, but mine are about the opposite. They're about life, vigor, potential and all that encompasses what it is to be human. I see the iconic skull shape simply as a substrate and something every single human has in common. It's something we all immediately recognize. We're pretty basic when it comes down to our skeletal system, but then you add the skin, the heart, the intellect, the emotion and everything that makes us unique. And I feel that's what the paint does when added to my skull motif. No two skull paintings are exactly alike and no two humans are exactly alike. There's a real beauty there and I believe it's something we can all relate to.

AMPERSAND: Your skull motif might seem influenced by some kind of primitive or tribal tradition, as do the untitled faces that you subsequently started painting. But they are not recognizable as a facsimile of any one particular artifact. They don’t feel antiquated, nor are they entirely of this time. Even their expressions are ambiguous, by turns foreboding or projecting joy depending on your perspective. I also don’t get the impression they are tied to any one belief system, though one might feel something mystical is at play in the viewing experience. Again, this could all be my own projections as an outside viewer, but I wonder how much of this was or is intentional on your part? 

EDELHUBER: They're human and when we view them as human we project our own thoughts and ideas onto them. I’d say they are fairly straight forward at first glance, recognizable as a skull or a face. But art is intended to ask more questions than give answers. At least, I think good art does that. We can't even answer all the questions we have of ourselves. What is life and how did it originate? Do we have a soul? Is there meaning in the monotony of everyday life? Do we carry on after this? Is there a God and if so, what or who is it? These things can be answered through feeling and faith, but not fact. I certainly like to dig into these questions on a daily basis, so a lot of what I'm doing with these paintings, drawings and sculptures is asking these questions and thinking about them. I would like to think that these objects would transcend time just as certain things in the physical world do. They're not tied to any specific belief system, but, in a way, are deeply spiritual in nature, as I believe we all are. Our spirit, ideas and thoughts can carry on long after we're gone. Even art will last longer than we do. So, to answer the question, your projection is spot-on—and it’s definitely intentional on my part.

AMPERSAND: This new series of work, Arkansas Eyes, is a little different. Through language, you are drawing our attention to a specific region in the United States and also a specific feature of the face. Is there some kind of folklore from Arkansas, or some power specific to our eyes, that you want to draw our attention to?  

EDELHUBER: This is very straightforward and probably not as deep as some people would like, but still artistically interesting to me. I grew up in Arkansas and absolutely love the place! I usually paint eyes that are round and I wanted to experiment with other shapes. Arkansas is known as the Natural State and it's one of the few places where diamonds are actually found naturally. The flag has a diamond on it as well, so I made a face with diamond eyes and things evolved from there. Growing up in Arkansas, my mother was really into gardening (still is) and she gave me and my sisters our own areas of the yard to grow flowers. Some of the "Arkansas Eyes" paintings have flower-shaped eyes, but they're mostly diamond shapes. It's all related to remembering my past.

AMPERSAND: Prior to working full-time as an artist, you also worked in graphic design. One aspect of design is branding, creating a distinct logo or mark that immediately conjures associations in one's mind about the company it represents. The image, ideally, gets stuck in the collective mind. The aim is usually a form of clarity. How is this different from your work as an artist? In a way, I feel like you are using the trickery of design, yet ditching its constraints. You’ve created a group of images worth repeating, but made a framework that thrives on ambiguity and permutations of texture. 

EDELHUBER: I think design has helped me tremendously. Design is fairly rigid, but you are right about the branding aspect and the aim for clarity. If you think about it, the artists who have lasted have created a "brand." There's something there that you immediately recognize as being specific to that artist. Repetition is good as long as it stays fresh. Once it gets old or boring for you, you need to stop. The skulls have led to faces and have become more abstract over time, but I could paint skulls forever. It's like meeting people. There's always something interesting there. There's always something different going on inside and so much to explore. Like people, the frame-work is there, but the permutations are unending!

AMPERSAND: The simplicity of a repeated form allows you to really experiment with materials and texture. From the point of view of image alone, at a glance your paintings are immediately satisfying to look at. But the real pleasure is seeing them in person and really studying the nuances of how they are made. I know a lot of experimentation and effort goes into your study of materials. Can you discuss using spray paint in particular, since that is the sole medium of these Arkansas Eyes works? I get the impression that spray paint is generally thought of as an easy medium, or a one-trick pony sort of thing, but it’s more nuanced, right? 

EDELHUBER: You're exactly right! And I have a love/hate relationship with it. Some days I wonder why I do it to myself, but I love the outcome, so I have to do it. Most people think you can just grab a can and spray it, which you can. But if you're going to do it in a meaningful way that isn't haphazard, it can be incredibly arduous. You don't get that rigid support the brush to canvas offers, so you're dealing with holding a can in the air and getting the exact amount of pressure you need from your finger. If it's too much, it will just blast the painting and it won't work. If it's too little, you get nothing and it won't work. If it's hot outside, the pressure inside the can is different than when it's cold, and that in turn affects the outcome. There are tricks you can employ to make adjustments to the pressure and the speed at which the paint exits the can, but most days it's a battle. It's even harder when you're dealing with a small surface. The paints I use are a high quality artist paint and the pigments they use are incredible! I find a lot of joy in the color and texture achieved through this method of painting. It’s worth the periodic frustration.

AMPERSAND: You also mentioned that you consider these particular works on paper to be “drawings,” even though you are using a paint medium. Essentially, a spray can as a drawing implement. But you are also making large canvas pieces that employ spray paint exclusively as well, but in that case you call them “paintings.” How would you define the difference?

EDELHUBER: I've always thought it was kind of odd how artists called things made with paint drawings, but at this point I don't think drawing is done solely with a pencil or pen. I think it's more of the size of what you're making, what it's on and how it's executed. Instead of holding a pencil or piece of charcoal between my fingers, I'm holding a can with a little cap and making smaller marks much like drawing. I'm not using all the painting muscles I would on a large canvas, so they just feel more like drawings to me.

AMPERSAND: Would you say there is risk in focusing on only one or two image forms for an exhibition? Or shifting away, if only momentarily, from imagery your audience has grown accustomed to? Or zeroing in on a specific medium like spray paint, which comes with its own set of cultural assumptions within the art world?  

EDELHUBER: I think about that often. There's always risk, but it’s never so big that I feel like holding back and not trying something new or different. That's why I usually have a few bodies of work going at once. It keeps things really interesting for me and, in turn, hopefully keeps things interesting for the viewer. There's also a dialogue between the bodies of work, the back and forth they feed between each other. Some days it's all paint from a tube. Some days it's all spray paint. Other days it's a mix. Nothing is off the table. There are artists out there who have painted essentially the same thing their entire careers. Like I said before, if it's interesting to you as an artist and still engages you on many levels, keep going. Only stop if it gets boring or if you're doing it for the wrong reason. As for cultural assumptions, I think the art world is a pretty open-minded place these days. I know spray paint goes hand-in-hand with street art or low-brow art, but I hope assumptions can be left at the door and people can really just view the art for what it is. In my mind, it doesn't really matter what the paint came out of.

AMPERSAND: Was there a distinct moment, say in your youth, when you started drawing? If so, was it an everyday thing? And I’m also wondering if there was a moment when you realized that making drawings, or being an artist, was a form of work you could pursue? Was there a specific artist who turned you on to that idea?

EDELHUBER: Like most artists, I started at a very young age. You and I have discussed this before, but even before elementary school I would find myself sitting in the pew at church extremely bored. They had little attendance cards and pencils and I would draw non-stop. It kept me entertained and I'm sure my parents loved that I was occupied! I would take those drawings home and put them in my room or give them to my parents. It was an every Sunday occurrence, but also just something that was part of life for me. I was drawing all the time. I really didn't think you could make a living doing something like art. The closest thing to art that I knew could be a career was design, so that was a no-brainer for me. Luckily, over time, I've been able to become a full-time artist.