In the large works, a man is standing on an edge, about to jump. The fall could represent a beginning or perhaps an end. He will fall through diagonal lines that represent transition, but in the end,it becomes death by Modernism—and even death of Modernism. The clouds act as an abstract obstruction, an interference at some points in the background. In some areas they are in the foreground, erasing part of the painting. The formal elements form the narrative, because that is the language of the painting. In the small works, you have a man holding a flashlight in his mouth,lighting him up, projecting out of his body. These paintings are about revealing, though they are blurring or creating opacity instead of visibility—doing the opposite of what light is supposed to do.
The paintings are part of the same series, but are meant to be independent of each other. They are a sequence of different variations of the same thing—the Groundhog Day effect—repeating that same thing until it’s been done definitively or it has been processed to all of its possibilities. To me, it’s not about the process of making them so much as it is about the ideas they are presenting.
The animation fits in between both the ideas of the suicide paintings and light paintings. The character cuts holes in his shirt. In each hole, an eye appears, like the mythological figure Argus. The character likes the eyes—until the lights go on. Then he becomes afraid and stabs the eyes, bleeding through them. In the end, he is reduced to a stick figure, becoming one of the fundamental elements of painting.
The works start from sketches. So drawing is very important. The animation came from two drawings, based on an idea I had a couple years ago. It takes a while to distill ideas and, because of that, the real San Antonio work is not in this space yet. It may take a year or six months to process the experience.