Castell Photography Gallery
Director’s choice award winner, Timothy Pakron
Gallery Director Heidi Gruner states:
“When Timothy Parkon’s work was submitted to our Manipulated exhibition, I was instantly excited. The tactile process, the mysterious images, the stunning simplicity, I was completely taken with them. I was then thrilled to see them selected by juror Ariel Shanberg and included in the exhibition, and very happy for the opportunity to award these unique works the Director’s Choice Award. Pakron is a young artist who I will definitely be keeping my eye on…”
By using the familiarity of the face as a template, Pakron’s process involves hand painting the developer in the darkroom intentionally revealing certain parts of the negative. By maintaining some of the original negative, in combination with brush strokes, drips and splatters, the goal is to create a portrait that is stimulating and emotional. Some of the portraits, usually of his close friends and family, are simply about abstracting the face while others have deeper narratives. His most recent works are portraits of his twin sister, mother, and grandmother and how the struggle of addiction has affected them.
A Mississippi native, Timothy Pakron graduated from the College of Charleston, where he majored in studio art. Having multiple bodies of work, Pakron’s primary focus is the study of portraiture, using the mediums of film photography and oil painting. Pakron’s work has been included in multiple solo and group shows in Charleston, SC, as well group shows in Spartanburg, SC and Asheville, NC. He currently lives and works in New York City.
Enjoy our full interview with the artist, below:
Castell Photography: Who are the people you photograph?
Timothy Pakron: The people I photograph are usually my close friends and family. I have done commissions for people where they wanted a portrait of a certain person. For my first major body of work, the portraits were representing the 12 disciples and christ at the last supper. The end result was an installation of portraits that represented a modern day last supper. For my second body of work, I wanted it to be more personal, so I photographed my mother and twin sister. The portraits represented the struggle of addiction that my twin sister has and how it has affected my mother and me. The act of documenting them and dedicating the work to that particular issue was therapeutic to me and helped me deal with the emotion of it all.
CP: Do you have a certain method of photographing with the knowledge that a majority of the image won’t be present in the final piece?
TP: Yes. I am very focused on capturing the eyes in a significant way. Sometimes, my portraits are successful without revealing the eyes, but most of the time they are. I would say the most important part of the photograph is the eyes and mouth. For a successful portrait, the darks of the mouth and the nose, and sometimes the ear and hair, are very important in giving the viewer an idea of the shape of a head. The physical painting of the portrait is just as important, if not more important that the photograph itself. It is funny how the smallest amount of darkness on a blank canvas can reveal the idea of a portrait. That applies to my darkroom paintings as well.
CP: What are you trying to reveal (and not reveal) about your sitter? Can you give us a specific example?
TP: It really depends on the model and the body of work it is within. For example, the portraits of my sister and mother, the technique lent itself very well in the sense that the downward dripping reminds people of tears. The goal of the work was to represent an exhaustion and a sense of despair that my whole family was experiencing. And I feel as the work was successful in evoking that.
CP: Your bio states that you are an oil painter as well, how do your working methods in painting and in film photography vary and how are they similar?
TP: They are similar in the sense that they are both predominately my exploration in portraiture. Ever since I was a child, I was very much drawn to portraits. Studying art and contemporary artists, it is very obvious that my favorite artists are figurative artists that focus on the portrait. Most of my photography is black and white. What I love about oil painting is that I get to use color, which is so much fun. That is probably the biggest difference. My paintings also allows me to paint photographs that aren’t necessarily mine. When I see certain photographs, sometimes mine, sometimes from the internet or elsewhere, they scream, “Paint me!” So I do.
CP: Do your work in photography and painting simultaneously, or do you switch back and forth, taking a break from one medium at a time?
TP: Well, before I moved to New York, I would work simultaneously. Now a days, I have been focusing more on my film work because I can digitalize it. I definitely am in a photography mood some days and a painting mood the others. It is so nice to not be boxed in to one category and take breaks from each mediums. And it is nice to take a break from it all sometimes. I am a firm believer in not making art is making art.
CP: How does your painting inform your photography and vice versa?
TP: It’s funny that you say that because during school, I struggled with choosing painting or photography. I have realized now that I don’t have to choose. My paintings in school directly related my darkroom practice. And what I love about my drip series is that I had to use the developer as a medium. Similar to watercolor on paper, dektol was my pigment. And for a previous show I did in Charleston, SC, I exhibited 8 gelatin silver prints and a large scale oil painting that was inspired by my darkroom technique. On my newer paintings, I started with color photographs and covered areas of the photograph with oil paint, so almost the opposite of what I was doing in the darkroom. So it was a full circle. Photography inspired my paintings. Paintings inspired my darkroom practice. Darkroom practice inspired my new paintings. New paintings inspired my new direction…and it keeps going. So short answer. Yes and Yes.
CP: Your bio states that you studied studio art, what medium where you first drawn to?
TP: Photography at first. As a teenager I always had the camera in my hand. During high school, I began doing graphic design and when I got to college I realized I wanted to be an artist. Then I took a painting class and fell in love.
CP: Who are your artistic influences?
TP: Stephen Gammell, the children’s author. He did the illustrations for Scary Stories. Those images still haunt me today and I absolutely love them.
More contemporary artists are Jenny Saville, who just blows my mind. She is definitely the biggest inspiration of mine. Pieter Hugo is a photographer’s work I just adore.
CP: What’s next? What are you currently working on?
TP: Currently I am mustering up some juices to start some new photographical color paintings, which will be soon. Since moving to New York in May, I have been without a studio, so I have been focusing on my color film work. I shoot with an old blad and I love it. My new series are portraits of people that I think are interesting. And landscapes. Boy is it fun to just shoot what I want without a reason.
Gallery Director Heidi Gruner states:
“When Timothy Parkon’s work was submitted to our Manipulated exhibition, I was instantly excited. The tactile process, the mysterious images, the stunning simplicity, I was completely taken with them. I was then thrilled to see them selected by juror Ariel Shanberg and included in the exhibition, and very happy for the opportunity to award these unique works the Director’s Choice Award. Pakron is a young artist who I will definitely be keeping my eye on…”
By using the familiarity of the face as a template, Pakron’s process involves hand painting the developer in the darkroom intentionally revealing certain parts of the negative. By maintaining some of the original negative, in combination with brush strokes, drips and splatters, the goal is to create a portrait that is stimulating and emotional. Some of the portraits, usually of his close friends and family, are simply about abstracting the face while others have deeper narratives. His most recent works are portraits of his twin sister, mother, and grandmother and how the struggle of addiction has affected them.
A Mississippi native, Timothy Pakron graduated from the College of Charleston, where he majored in studio art. Having multiple bodies of work, Pakron’s primary focus is the study of portraiture, using the mediums of film photography and oil painting. Pakron’s work has been included in multiple solo and group shows in Charleston, SC, as well group shows in Spartanburg, SC and Asheville, NC. He currently lives and works in New York City.
Enjoy our full interview with the artist, below:
Castell Photography: Who are the people you photograph?
Timothy Pakron: The people I photograph are usually my close friends and family. I have done commissions for people where they wanted a portrait of a certain person. For my first major body of work, the portraits were representing the 12 disciples and christ at the last supper. The end result was an installation of portraits that represented a modern day last supper. For my second body of work, I wanted it to be more personal, so I photographed my mother and twin sister. The portraits represented the struggle of addiction that my twin sister has and how it has affected my mother and me. The act of documenting them and dedicating the work to that particular issue was therapeutic to me and helped me deal with the emotion of it all.
CP: Do you have a certain method of photographing with the knowledge that a majority of the image won’t be present in the final piece?
TP: Yes. I am very focused on capturing the eyes in a significant way. Sometimes, my portraits are successful without revealing the eyes, but most of the time they are. I would say the most important part of the photograph is the eyes and mouth. For a successful portrait, the darks of the mouth and the nose, and sometimes the ear and hair, are very important in giving the viewer an idea of the shape of a head. The physical painting of the portrait is just as important, if not more important that the photograph itself. It is funny how the smallest amount of darkness on a blank canvas can reveal the idea of a portrait. That applies to my darkroom paintings as well.
CP: What are you trying to reveal (and not reveal) about your sitter? Can you give us a specific example?
TP: It really depends on the model and the body of work it is within. For example, the portraits of my sister and mother, the technique lent itself very well in the sense that the downward dripping reminds people of tears. The goal of the work was to represent an exhaustion and a sense of despair that my whole family was experiencing. And I feel as the work was successful in evoking that.
CP: Your bio states that you are an oil painter as well, how do your working methods in painting and in film photography vary and how are they similar?
TP: They are similar in the sense that they are both predominately my exploration in portraiture. Ever since I was a child, I was very much drawn to portraits. Studying art and contemporary artists, it is very obvious that my favorite artists are figurative artists that focus on the portrait. Most of my photography is black and white. What I love about oil painting is that I get to use color, which is so much fun. That is probably the biggest difference. My paintings also allows me to paint photographs that aren’t necessarily mine. When I see certain photographs, sometimes mine, sometimes from the internet or elsewhere, they scream, “Paint me!” So I do.
CP: Do your work in photography and painting simultaneously, or do you switch back and forth, taking a break from one medium at a time?
TP: Well, before I moved to New York, I would work simultaneously. Now a days, I have been focusing more on my film work because I can digitalize it. I definitely am in a photography mood some days and a painting mood the others. It is so nice to not be boxed in to one category and take breaks from each mediums. And it is nice to take a break from it all sometimes. I am a firm believer in not making art is making art.
CP: How does your painting inform your photography and vice versa?
TP: It’s funny that you say that because during school, I struggled with choosing painting or photography. I have realized now that I don’t have to choose. My paintings in school directly related my darkroom practice. And what I love about my drip series is that I had to use the developer as a medium. Similar to watercolor on paper, dektol was my pigment. And for a previous show I did in Charleston, SC, I exhibited 8 gelatin silver prints and a large scale oil painting that was inspired by my darkroom technique. On my newer paintings, I started with color photographs and covered areas of the photograph with oil paint, so almost the opposite of what I was doing in the darkroom. So it was a full circle. Photography inspired my paintings. Paintings inspired my darkroom practice. Darkroom practice inspired my new paintings. New paintings inspired my new direction…and it keeps going. So short answer. Yes and Yes.
CP: Your bio states that you studied studio art, what medium where you first drawn to?
TP: Photography at first. As a teenager I always had the camera in my hand. During high school, I began doing graphic design and when I got to college I realized I wanted to be an artist. Then I took a painting class and fell in love.
CP: Who are your artistic influences?
TP: Stephen Gammell, the children’s author. He did the illustrations for Scary Stories. Those images still haunt me today and I absolutely love them.
More contemporary artists are Jenny Saville, who just blows my mind. She is definitely the biggest inspiration of mine. Pieter Hugo is a photographer’s work I just adore.
CP: What’s next? What are you currently working on?
TP: Currently I am mustering up some juices to start some new photographical color paintings, which will be soon. Since moving to New York in May, I have been without a studio, so I have been focusing on my color film work. I shoot with an old blad and I love it. My new series are portraits of people that I think are interesting. And landscapes. Boy is it fun to just shoot what I want without a reason.
Charleston City Paper article on "SUMMER" at Rebekah Jacob Gallery
Six Southern artists join forces for a colorful show
Heating Up
by Amy Stockwell Mercer
Rebekah Jacob manages to pack a big punch in the small, narrow space of her King Street gallery. Opening on the well-worn heels of Spoleto and running through July, Summer displays works from a compelling group of young, contemporary, male Southern artists.
Jacob doesn't like to impose a theme on her artists, but the summer vibe must have subconsciously evoked a steamy palette for many of them. Brian Rutenberg's large-scale oil paintings are thick with vibrant colors, and even Tim Hussey, whose work is often filled with heavy black lines of charcoal, includes splashes of purple and red in his recent work. The colors of summer are a dominant theme for most. Also included in the exhibit are Kendall Messick, Timothy Pakron, and Benjamin Hollingsworth, and Kevin Taylor.
Pakron recently relocated to New York City, and if his latest work is any indication, the big city is going to be great for his career. Pakron is a photographer by trade whose complex process involves the manipulation of black-and-white photographs to create a dripping effect. His large-scale portrait is unlike any of his previous works, with rich, vibrant color. Luscious, wet, red lips are all that remain of the photograph hidden behind layers of paint, creating a sense of pleasurable unbalance and mystery — we half expect a tongue to emerge and lick them dry. The eyes of the ambiguously gendered figure confront the viewer, staring boldly, and we can't look away. Pakron's brushstrokes are thick, emphasizing the contours of the face and blurring the background into a warm, blood red. Emotionally powerful, Pakron's work is evocative and haunting.
Kendall Messick's photographs from his documentary film, The Projectionist, are about a man's fascination with the golden age of film. The images are vibrantly colored, but we've seen them before, both at the Halsey in 2007 and at Rebekah Jacob. It would have been nice to see something new from this talented artist.
In a Kevin Taylor piece, a wounded elephant bathing under the moon with a naked woman commands the viewer's attention, but on closer inspection, it's the textural details of the animal's skin and eyes that linger. Taylor grew up in Charleston and now lives in San Francisco, where he continues to examine the relationships between man and nature and the animalistic qualities of people. His range is varied, and several smaller paintings of tribal-looking men with mushrooms growing on their shoulders and beards made of moss are included in the show. His animals are infinitely more interesting than his lifeless, somewhat creepy females.
Rutenberg's large-scale abstract oil paintings reveal his love of color. Alternating layers of thick paint shift in scale as if they bounce off one another, creating conflict between the layers. There is movement in the dense paint as if we are looking at or feeling something geographic, a landscape from above.
Local favorite Hussey is a prolific artist whose work was recently featured in a mid-career retrospective at the City Gallery. Hussey uses "whatever is around" (cherries, coffee grounds, charcoal) to create his mixed-media works on paper. His style is loose with abstract shapes, scribbles, and sometimes-recognizable figures like a face blowing circles or a bit of patchwork. Hard to decipher, his work is both engaging and at times frustrating, inviting the viewer to suspend analysis because maybe the pieces aren't necessarily meant to be read or understood. Unlike Rutenberg, whose abstract works express emotion through color, Hussey's images invite conversation about the process of making art.
One of the challenges of a group show, especially in a small setting, is to hang the collection without making it look chaotic, but the white walls and clean lines of Jacob's gallery minimize distractions and provide enough room to absorb this visually pleasing summertime show. Summer reminds us that even after the lights go down on Spoleto, the visual arts scene in Charleston never sleeps.
Heating Up
by Amy Stockwell Mercer
Rebekah Jacob manages to pack a big punch in the small, narrow space of her King Street gallery. Opening on the well-worn heels of Spoleto and running through July, Summer displays works from a compelling group of young, contemporary, male Southern artists.
Jacob doesn't like to impose a theme on her artists, but the summer vibe must have subconsciously evoked a steamy palette for many of them. Brian Rutenberg's large-scale oil paintings are thick with vibrant colors, and even Tim Hussey, whose work is often filled with heavy black lines of charcoal, includes splashes of purple and red in his recent work. The colors of summer are a dominant theme for most. Also included in the exhibit are Kendall Messick, Timothy Pakron, and Benjamin Hollingsworth, and Kevin Taylor.
Pakron recently relocated to New York City, and if his latest work is any indication, the big city is going to be great for his career. Pakron is a photographer by trade whose complex process involves the manipulation of black-and-white photographs to create a dripping effect. His large-scale portrait is unlike any of his previous works, with rich, vibrant color. Luscious, wet, red lips are all that remain of the photograph hidden behind layers of paint, creating a sense of pleasurable unbalance and mystery — we half expect a tongue to emerge and lick them dry. The eyes of the ambiguously gendered figure confront the viewer, staring boldly, and we can't look away. Pakron's brushstrokes are thick, emphasizing the contours of the face and blurring the background into a warm, blood red. Emotionally powerful, Pakron's work is evocative and haunting.
Kendall Messick's photographs from his documentary film, The Projectionist, are about a man's fascination with the golden age of film. The images are vibrantly colored, but we've seen them before, both at the Halsey in 2007 and at Rebekah Jacob. It would have been nice to see something new from this talented artist.
In a Kevin Taylor piece, a wounded elephant bathing under the moon with a naked woman commands the viewer's attention, but on closer inspection, it's the textural details of the animal's skin and eyes that linger. Taylor grew up in Charleston and now lives in San Francisco, where he continues to examine the relationships between man and nature and the animalistic qualities of people. His range is varied, and several smaller paintings of tribal-looking men with mushrooms growing on their shoulders and beards made of moss are included in the show. His animals are infinitely more interesting than his lifeless, somewhat creepy females.
Rutenberg's large-scale abstract oil paintings reveal his love of color. Alternating layers of thick paint shift in scale as if they bounce off one another, creating conflict between the layers. There is movement in the dense paint as if we are looking at or feeling something geographic, a landscape from above.
Local favorite Hussey is a prolific artist whose work was recently featured in a mid-career retrospective at the City Gallery. Hussey uses "whatever is around" (cherries, coffee grounds, charcoal) to create his mixed-media works on paper. His style is loose with abstract shapes, scribbles, and sometimes-recognizable figures like a face blowing circles or a bit of patchwork. Hard to decipher, his work is both engaging and at times frustrating, inviting the viewer to suspend analysis because maybe the pieces aren't necessarily meant to be read or understood. Unlike Rutenberg, whose abstract works express emotion through color, Hussey's images invite conversation about the process of making art.
One of the challenges of a group show, especially in a small setting, is to hang the collection without making it look chaotic, but the white walls and clean lines of Jacob's gallery minimize distractions and provide enough room to absorb this visually pleasing summertime show. Summer reminds us that even after the lights go down on Spoleto, the visual arts scene in Charleston never sleeps.
Charleston City Paper article on "Folklore" at Rebekah Jacob Gallery
Tim Pakron and Ben Hollingsworth team up for a grassroots show
Folk Stars
by Amy Stockwell Mercer
Timothy Pakron and Benjamin Hollingsworth use words like "grassroots" to describe the growing contemporary art scene in Charleston, but in the same breath, they say their work is not very "Charleston-esque." In neighboring downtown studios, these two artists create works that are innovative, thought provoking, and unexpected. "I want to let people know that I'm always evolving," Pakron says.
The opportunity to exhibit at the Rebekah Jacob Gallery inspired Hollingsworth and Pakron to develop the idea for Folklore. They wanted to play with the concept of reinterpreting traditional subjects and techniques. Pakron says, "My job as an artist is to continue these traditions and make them my own."
In his senior year at the College of Charleston, Pakron resisted defining himself as a painter or photographer and was frustrated because he felt like he had to choose. So he decided to combine the two. Displaying a negative on a wall of his darkroom, he paints directly onto the image, creating a drip effect. This seemingly effortless technique is actually a 10-step process that results in minimal and haunting portraits. After a successful debut at this summer's Contemporary Charleston exhibit at the City Gallery, Pakron wanted to evolve his process, and says that the latest pieces are less controlled and more raw.
"Addiction," a large black and white painting, depicts his twin sister Meggie. A dark image with layers of thick paint represents his sister's struggle with drugs and how it affected their relationship. "The best work I've ever done is really personal," Pakron says. The photo that was the inspiration for the painting was taken the summer before he and his sister went to college, and it captured the innocence of her face. Over the years, the painting got darker and darker, and as his sister reached her first year of sobriety, Pakron realized it was time to let the painting go. He likes that the image is confrontational; he's comfortable with making the viewer uncomfortable. "The painting represents the beauty of her struggle," he says. "I wanted her eyes to give the sense of exhaustion and defeat."
The five photographs in his series are of his sister Meggie and their mother. The brushstrokes are visible, drawing attention to the eyes, the lips, and the edges of the melting face. "I always like to reveal the eyes," he says. "If it's successful, you feel like there's this person behind the image." Pakron says the highest praise is when people tell him what they thought about his work after the show.
Benjamin Hollingsworth looks at every show as if it could be his last. He recently returned to Charleston after living in New York City, drawn by the contemporary grassroots scene here. A self-taught artist, Hollingsworth says there is more to art than just the physical act. "Twenty percent of art is making it, the other 80 percent is researching, talking about it, and sometimes just sitting there, looking at it." Working all day, every day, he gets irritated when people tell him he's going to burn out. "I think you've just got to find what you love and do the shit out of it."
Hollingsworth's large-scale mixed media paintings portray Jesus on the cross, the Virgin Mary and baby Jesus, Death, and the Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost. Influenced by Caravaggio's crucifixion, Hollingsworth wanted to reinterpret these iconic images with his own distinct, abstract style. His series includes an image of Mary and the infant Jesus with yellow spray-painted lines that frame the solemn pair, a detailed skeleton bending on his knees in supplication, and an image of Jesus hanging from the cross surrounded by bananas, apples, and flowers. His use of color adds a sense of playfulness to this historically dark subject. Hollingsworth's images are both surreal and sensual.
Reinterpreting Christian iconography provided Hollingsworth with the chance to see how far he could take something. "I don't want to feel stagnant or boxed in," he says. "Making art is a huge learning process." Like a game of chess, he develops his moves as the game progresses. "I'm going to do this stuff whether it sells or not. I want my work to be open-ended for the viewer, I want to leave something to the imagination." Although he shies away from offering personal insights into his paintings, Hollingsworth explains that he grew up going to church in the South, but insists that he is not preaching. "Am I preaching or am I showing you art?" he asks. Wanting to create a sense of ambiguity, Hollingsworth resists interpretation, saying the work is his retelling of a traditional story.
With Hollingsworth's contemporary, iconic splashes of color on one side of the gallery, and Pakron's stark, painterly family portraits on the other, the viewer can draw their own interpretations of what Folklore means. One artist communicates a personal struggle, while the other doesn't want to communicate anything at all. True to the tradition of folklore, these innovative artists have embraced age-old stories and made them their own.
Folk Stars
by Amy Stockwell Mercer
Timothy Pakron and Benjamin Hollingsworth use words like "grassroots" to describe the growing contemporary art scene in Charleston, but in the same breath, they say their work is not very "Charleston-esque." In neighboring downtown studios, these two artists create works that are innovative, thought provoking, and unexpected. "I want to let people know that I'm always evolving," Pakron says.
The opportunity to exhibit at the Rebekah Jacob Gallery inspired Hollingsworth and Pakron to develop the idea for Folklore. They wanted to play with the concept of reinterpreting traditional subjects and techniques. Pakron says, "My job as an artist is to continue these traditions and make them my own."
In his senior year at the College of Charleston, Pakron resisted defining himself as a painter or photographer and was frustrated because he felt like he had to choose. So he decided to combine the two. Displaying a negative on a wall of his darkroom, he paints directly onto the image, creating a drip effect. This seemingly effortless technique is actually a 10-step process that results in minimal and haunting portraits. After a successful debut at this summer's Contemporary Charleston exhibit at the City Gallery, Pakron wanted to evolve his process, and says that the latest pieces are less controlled and more raw.
"Addiction," a large black and white painting, depicts his twin sister Meggie. A dark image with layers of thick paint represents his sister's struggle with drugs and how it affected their relationship. "The best work I've ever done is really personal," Pakron says. The photo that was the inspiration for the painting was taken the summer before he and his sister went to college, and it captured the innocence of her face. Over the years, the painting got darker and darker, and as his sister reached her first year of sobriety, Pakron realized it was time to let the painting go. He likes that the image is confrontational; he's comfortable with making the viewer uncomfortable. "The painting represents the beauty of her struggle," he says. "I wanted her eyes to give the sense of exhaustion and defeat."
The five photographs in his series are of his sister Meggie and their mother. The brushstrokes are visible, drawing attention to the eyes, the lips, and the edges of the melting face. "I always like to reveal the eyes," he says. "If it's successful, you feel like there's this person behind the image." Pakron says the highest praise is when people tell him what they thought about his work after the show.
Benjamin Hollingsworth looks at every show as if it could be his last. He recently returned to Charleston after living in New York City, drawn by the contemporary grassroots scene here. A self-taught artist, Hollingsworth says there is more to art than just the physical act. "Twenty percent of art is making it, the other 80 percent is researching, talking about it, and sometimes just sitting there, looking at it." Working all day, every day, he gets irritated when people tell him he's going to burn out. "I think you've just got to find what you love and do the shit out of it."
Hollingsworth's large-scale mixed media paintings portray Jesus on the cross, the Virgin Mary and baby Jesus, Death, and the Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost. Influenced by Caravaggio's crucifixion, Hollingsworth wanted to reinterpret these iconic images with his own distinct, abstract style. His series includes an image of Mary and the infant Jesus with yellow spray-painted lines that frame the solemn pair, a detailed skeleton bending on his knees in supplication, and an image of Jesus hanging from the cross surrounded by bananas, apples, and flowers. His use of color adds a sense of playfulness to this historically dark subject. Hollingsworth's images are both surreal and sensual.
Reinterpreting Christian iconography provided Hollingsworth with the chance to see how far he could take something. "I don't want to feel stagnant or boxed in," he says. "Making art is a huge learning process." Like a game of chess, he develops his moves as the game progresses. "I'm going to do this stuff whether it sells or not. I want my work to be open-ended for the viewer, I want to leave something to the imagination." Although he shies away from offering personal insights into his paintings, Hollingsworth explains that he grew up going to church in the South, but insists that he is not preaching. "Am I preaching or am I showing you art?" he asks. Wanting to create a sense of ambiguity, Hollingsworth resists interpretation, saying the work is his retelling of a traditional story.
With Hollingsworth's contemporary, iconic splashes of color on one side of the gallery, and Pakron's stark, painterly family portraits on the other, the viewer can draw their own interpretations of what Folklore means. One artist communicates a personal struggle, while the other doesn't want to communicate anything at all. True to the tradition of folklore, these innovative artists have embraced age-old stories and made them their own.
