On a sunny Los Angeles afternoon, I wander into New Image Art gallery’s newest location, and find Anthony Lister and several interns working in a flurry to mount his newest solo exhibition. Lister is fresh off of a series of large-scale murals in his signature gestural style throughout Los Angeles. He is generally known for his adventuresome street art antics and giant colorful superheroes, who are painted as modern mythological heroes. An Australian expatriate who resides in Brooklyn, Mr Lister’s work has been critically acclaimed throughout a series of sold-out solo shows. Upon entering the gallery I’m faced with a mixture of pastels and elegant ballerina figures prancing across the walls of the gallery, repeated alongside an adapted Van Gogh and miniature expressionistic penises. Lister’s new exhibition focusing on the classical practice of working from a live model opens on Thursday evening, with a live dance performance. This interview by Walt! Gorecki.

You’re doing a lot of work in this show referencing master painters like Van Gogh and Degas with the repeated ballerinas—it seems like a departure from your superhero work.
Not really. I mean, you know there’s not a lot of difference really between a superhero and a ballerina in my mind. Or a stripper for that matter. It’s really sort of cosmetic, it’s a facade really isn’t it? When I work, it’s all kind of figurative you know.
It’s a bit of a continuation of your work on misguided role models, although ballerinas are generally much more admirable in the minds of the general public.
Sure, until you see them being portrayed in a beauty pageant for under 8 year-olds. However, I don’t think many things are very disturbing, I think it’s all very interesting, as long as you’re interested.
I’ve read that you like the excitement of doing the installation, of creating something new for a new space.
When I’m building shows, it’s different every time. I don’t get excited, I just get ready. When it comes to a show, if I have time to get ready then I can make something amazing. A lot of the times in this game sometimes you’ll get two days to bump into a show, sometimes you’ll get two months. So working in situ is something I prefer to do for a whole body of work, in a whole space where it’s built into the space. But it’s not all of the time that you have the luxury to do that. I don’t feel that it’s a boundary that I have — I make different shows for different places. I just came from a show in Australia where I hired a 3 floor, 10 room space and took it over completely, and built some amazing things too. This show’s kind of like a visit to the more classical, traditional, elegant approach to fine art as a craft, and as an exhibiting experience. I’ve made some very delicate, intimate dildos. [Laughter from installing interns] Another piece called ‘Punch in the Face,’ [motions toward ballerina painting with punched out face], and that’s about emotion. Another piece is called ‘Ballerina’ and it’s an ode to Rodin because I love that man’s work. Even though I’m using ballerinas and Degas is famous for ballerinas I’m more attracted to the idea of ballerinas, and in a sculptural sense the idea of Rodin. They’re very separate, but I’m aware of the historical reference in art.
How do comic book illustrators figure into your practice? I can see a bit of Frank Miller in your work.
Obviously, I’ve been influenced by comic books, just with my contemporary mythology series, That’s from when I was a child reading them. Sure—Frank Miller’s Batman, Sin City, 2000AD … but honestly my favorite quote about inspiration comes from Chuck Close. He said, ‘Inspiration is for beginners—the rest of us just get to work.’ Or something like that. Honestly I try to keep people and images and aesthetics out of mind.
Have you had a chance to meet or work with him in New York?
Yes, actually—I work in the same print shop and place editions in New York as Chuck, and we’ve met and hung out.
As far as other personal heroes go, you’ve mentioned Ned Kelly, and you’ve created work about him.
I’ve done several pieces around Ned Kelly. I’m very interested in the idea of the outlaw. I’m fascinated with criminology. Back when I was working around Ned Kelly I was painting portraits of Chopper Reed, who’s kind of seen as the contemporary Ned Kelly in Australia right now. With the movie about him, you may have been informed. I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of the bush ranger and also Ned Kelly.
Both of those stories have had vastly different cinematic takes—the Yahoo Serious Ned Kelly comedy, and the Eric Bana Chopper film.
There’s the Mick Jagger film about Ned Kelly set in Australia. I believe it was made in the 60s or 70s. I’m familiar with all of it. Look, I have a problem with authority. Coming from Australia which is a country founded by 334 prisoners, something like 60 prison guards, 14 sheep, 2 cows, you know … I guess it resonates with my larrikin nature to have a problem with authority, and I’m echoing that. I’m not exactly sure. I was raised by the youth and all the boys at the skate park in Australia in the peripheral of parental guidance.
Does skateboarding still figure heavily into your day to day practice?
Absolutely, it’s a discipline, it’s a lifestyle. It’s like painting pictures or editing films or cooking for that matter, it’s just about practice. I just went out to the Baker Warehouse, skated around with Andy Reynolds, it was cool.
Have you been out to the old 6th Street Warehouse?
Yeah—I’ve skated that ramp and painted down there. I’ve got paintings up around the Brooklyn projects as well.
Back to the subject of role models—you’ve had endorsements from Paris Hilton. How does she fit into your subject matter?
She was a bit fun—that was pretty funny. My fascination with role models, or the lack of guidance with a lot of role models that I grew up with, is all based on context. She definitely fits in with my whole topic of misguided role models.
You have children now yourself. Does that impact who you choose to portray as a misguided role model?
We all have children, you know. We’re all the sons of the world, the students of the world. I’ve always had children. I’m definitely a child of the world.
Do see yourself as a role model especially in terms of a public figure and a street artist?
I don’t pay much attention to it, no not at all. I’m more of a bad influence really. I set out to make amazing things from nothing that have the potential to echo for an eternity.
Have you as a street artist ever been in serious trouble?
Well, I have many names when operating in the street, some names that you may know me for online, and other names that nobody knows me for, and yeah I’ve been to jail in Brooklyn twice for graffiti; I’ve been to jail in London and Australia for graffiti. For ‘street art,’ not so much. One time I went to jail and watched a guy vomit on heroin naked for six hours in the dark. I’ve been chased, I’ve been pinned to fences. I’ve been scratched. Fallen. Catched. Drawn. On. In. Usually at this point I say there’s a problem with homelessness. Look, there’s nothing sadder than to see a weak skinny woman on the side of the road while someone else takes a shit in the middle of the road. Something’s got to happen, when you’re sitting here making these paintings about beautiful women or aggressive superheroes and drawing comments to role models, and what’s here for the youth or will the world even end, you feel a bit helpless because you’re not helping children in a third world country with an eye defect or their hands getting cut off in Africa. There’s a problem out there, and I’m not really sure how to fix it. I just think that if the drains at least—or under the bridges at least—could be given back to people … I’m into space, I’m into public intervention, and I’m into functional planning. I think the authority needs to let up—of course with graffiti, but also, in general with space. There’s too much control—I’ve got an issue with control.
How do you differentiate your street art work from your graffiti work?
In my mind I have something called ‘Multiple Creative Personality Disorder,’ and that’s something I’ve manifested from being involved in this industry, or whatever you call this thing, for over a decade, and where I’ve needed to learn to communicate with a whole series of different communities of artists. I differentiate it in several ways, in graffiti I have a different name. I have a different tolerance for questions, a different tolerance for things, and I have a different attitude toward space and how I conduct space visually and how I apply myself to the visual landscape. It’s public intervention.
In your hometown of Brisbane you had a commissioned piece that was buffed over by the city council in 2010. Did you ever reach any kind of resolution?
No, not at all. It was a gift to the city, and they painted over it. I haven’t been back to paint anything around there since. You know—what do you do about that? That’s why I moved out of there to New York in 2002. I go back and forth a lot, I’m always around Australia, I’ve got a lot of love for Australia. When your craft gets beaten down you turn to other means. Now I just bomb that city with other names.
Do you have other street artists or fine artists you enjoy collaborating with? I know you’ve worked with Banksy’s print studio, and also with fellow Australians Ben Frost and Kill Pixie.
Absolutely. I enjoy working with WK—I’ve painted portraits of him, he’s painted portraits of me. I enjoy working with Banksy’s print studio, getting constructive criticism from the boss man. Here in Los Angeles, I enjoy working with The Seventh Letter. I enjoy working with Retna, I enjoy being around other creatives in peer energy that’s more than just a Facebook page or an unfacable ‘like.’ These are communities of people I get down with. In Melbourne like The Everfresh Crew, and also fine artists like Scott Redford. I’m really involved in the academic side of things — I’ve got my work collected by the National Gallery of Australia. It’s about a community, and that’s what I get out of traveling the world and working with people.

ANTHONY LISTER OPENS THUR., FEB. 23, AT NEW IMAGE ART GALLERY, 7920 SANTA MONICA BLVD., WEST HOLLYWOOD. 6PM / FREE / ALL AGES. NEWIMAGEARTGALLERY.COM

photo by Richard Hayden

I recently caught up with Kristen Christian as she prepared for the June 4^th grand opening at her brand new gallery space, Le Spec, sitting just west of Silverlake. Le Spec Gallery, a large 2,000 square foot structure with a great potential for growth, is opening Saturday night with live painted models by the artists featured in the show, including L.A. RECORD illustrator, Champoy Hate. She spoke with me about her goals in creating a space that interacts with the local community, and focuses on empowering artists and giving them a fair deal. This interview by Walt! Gorecki.

Tell me about the 3D glasses you use as an icon for the space.
We had actual pairs made that will be in the swag bag giveaways for opening night. The first hundred people in the door who check in to Facebook with their phones will get their free bag of goodies, not just from Le Spec. The 3D glasses came from looking at a simple idea that would convey that Le Spec Gallery is going to be a fresh perspective on the art world, and will be keeping the majority of the retail profits in the hands of the artists.
Who are you working with on this first show with the live models?
My makeup artist is going to be Ana Laverde, her specialty is special effects, zombie makeup, monster makeup typically. She and I met today and are scheming evilly for the September show. We have some pretty killer ideas in mind for what we want to do, that one’s called “Feast of the Flesh,” it’s being billed as a macabre exploration of humanity and the human form.
Is that going to have a fashion base then?
It won’t be fashion based but there will be live models involved. It’s going to be very . . . surprising. When it happens everyone will know it, and they’ll never be the same again.
I see you have an upstairs loft area.
I do have an office up there, it’s really great, for the grand opening it’ll be a space where the models can be painted and have some privacy, and a space for the photographers to do their portraiture.
It’s nice to find a space with a loft area.
Not only just the loft, but to have a storefront that is separate from the main gallery. I will display art in the storefront, but to be able to close it off for events so that people have to come through the calm quiet of the storefront in order to get to the event is just incredible.
So do you have a lot of retail activity planned?
I do actually, we have T-shirts of my stencil designs, printed through 7Lightning bolt, in addition we’ll be selling the glasses, the stickers, the buttons, and we’ve been coordinating with local bands. I’d ideally like to have no more than 5 local bands who have local presses and carry their t-shirts and their vinyl. So far I’ve had some really good feedback.
Which bands are you working with?
I’m still in negotiation with some of the bands. A band was in here the other day for a photo shoot with famed rock photographer Lisa Johnson. They came in and were like, “We love this, too bad you can’t have bands,” and that’s the catch I can’t have bands; I essentially can’t have anything with drums.
You have AdamantiumMC, Adam Weiss, who coordinates Hipsters who Heart Hip-Hop, performing at the opening, so that will be more of a DJ set-up?
It will be a DJ set-up, and he’s looking to also do a Hipsters Who Heart Hip-Hop show, which usually does include bands but he’s catering the event for the space. Stuff like that, basically as long as it doesn’t have drums we’re good. After speaking to the folks from Echo Curio, they said “We’d hate to see you lose your space, we’d hate to see you go the way of the Curio, don’t do live bands.” Also I didn’t want to remove my focus from the art and everything else to get the permit. But I do have other new exciting events here. Sound.WAVs, currently at Ronin Gallery, who are performing at the grand opening, will be moving here after the event.
How did you connect with Adam and everyone else?
I’ve just been so fortunate, since I moved to LA a year ago, just meeting all the right people. After meeting Adam I began hanging out with him at the Hipsters Who Heart Hip Hop radio shows and I met lots of people through there.
So you’d been over to Malo Funhouse for the “Only for the Open Minded” radio broadcasts then?
Yeah, which is how I actually met Champ as well, so I was really excited to bring him on board for the June show, and very pleased to learn that he has experience in body painting, so he was already comfortable doing that.
What’s your artistic background? I know you do “traditional stencil art,” what does that entail?
It means I don’t use computers everything is drawn by hand. I say traditional because I take a nod from Blek Le Rat, the first stencil artist, and he drew his stencils by hand. He never felt the need to get computers involved, and I work the same way, the only way computers come into play is to change the size of the stencil. I have a very good friend in San Luis Obispo, Jeff Claassen of Claassen Gallery, he’s also the person who taught me how to cut stencils. Now I’ve been doing stencils for just over 5 years.
You were living in San Luis Obispo?
I was, and I’d always looked up to this street artist—he’s in my July show, Nic Rodriguez. He put up some of the most amazing murals in San Luis Obispo when I was younger and I admired his bravado, putting up his artwork for the entire world to see. So Jeff introduced me to him and also to Stenzskull. Stenzskull does stencils that, while he is computer based, I tell him on a regular basis that he does work that makes me want to give up the art of stencils. He does like 20 layer stencils that look like portraits.
And the August show afterward is another group show?
The August show is another group show, entitled “Viva Los Angeles,” and it’s a take on the Vegas mantra as a testament to the gamble of living in the “City of Angels.” Many of us come here with a car full of stuff and a dream and you either make it big or you hit rock bottom.
Sometimes you can do both.
So I have some really incredible artists who are already on board for that. I do scout all the artists myself, I don’t like to work with art dealers if I can avoid it, just because I seek these people out on my own so I don’t feel that it’s fair for someone to take 50% of what is the artist’s. My main goal here is putting as much of the money in the hands of the artists as possible, if there’s an art dealer involved that defeats the purpose.
You mentioned your goal of community involvement. How has your interaction been thus far?
I’ve got the local Senior Lead Officer from the LAPD on board, he knows about different events that are coming up and he’s just incredibly supportive as well.
That’s great, there are so many stories of small spaces getting shut down, to have the local community on board right from the start is great.
Exactly. I went to a neighborhood council meeting last night, and they are just so happy to see this neighborhood blossoming as an artistic community again. The complex here houses a theatre, a photographer, and currently web designers. The landlord gave me a bit of a history of this neighborhood, across the street thirty years ago there used to be a very large house that was the home of a painter who studied under Salvador Dali, and he would throw these extravagant elaborate parties there, and people would come from all over.

LE SPEC IS LOCATED AT 3311 BEVERLY BLVD. LOS ANGELES CA, 90004. THE OPENING RECEPTION ON JUNE 4TH AT 8PM FEATURES WORK BY VICTOR CHARLES BALOGH, GINA CAVALIER, BOB GNARLY, CHAMPOY HATE, LISA JOHNSON, BECCA MOON, SHAUN KASL SINGER, AND IS SPONSORED IN PART BY LA CANVAS, JARRITOS, SAN ANTONIO WINERY, 1SOL SWIMWEAR, AND MORE. FOR MORE INFORMATION VISIT WWW.LE-SPEC.COM.

Download: Talbot Tagora “Ichthus Hop”

(from Lessons In The Woods Or A City out now on Hardly Art)

Talbot Tagora have roots in the Smell but survive and thrive now in the woods of the Pacific Northwest, where they make space rock from planet jazz on their fascinating new record Lessons In The Woods Or A City. They speak now before van trouble in unforgiving Utah. This interview by Vanessa Gonzalez.

There is a Stranger piece that says, ‘Talbot Tagora likes to talk about religions people think are cults.’ What does that mean?
Chris Ando (guitar/vocals): I think that was worded wrongly, if wrongly’s a word. When Eric interviewed us I had this idea, and I don’t even really remember what it was, but I think I may have actually been writing ‘Mixed Signals Through Miles of Pilgrimage’ at the time. But I worded it in a wrong way and I don’t remember what I was thinking about.
Do you have an interest in cults?
Cults? Yeah. To me, I wonder what a cult is because—it’s a hard thing to say. It’s funny that I don’t want to say that—talk about religions this way.
I think Seattle has a unique and interesting religious feeling—there’s definitely a strong Catholic-Christian presence there but then there’s also so much Native American spirituality still that resonates. And also kind of a pagan nature awareness that maybe comes from the Scandanavian influence.
I think that can totally have had an effect on the way that Ani, Mark and I were brought up. One thing that I really like about the Northwest is all the Native American stuff—the culture is still alive, and it’s hard to say that about other places, unfortunately. But it’s really inspiring to know that those people that were native to this land still have access to their beliefs and their ancestors. I could go on and be a bummer about it but I’m glad that the culture is still alive. But it is a bummer—I grew up in a town called Polk City, and whenever I go back things are being knocked down. Like totem poles.
In ‘Ichthus Hop’ you say, ‘the 21st century picses, where every single good fish/bad fish led through immunity and experience puts the past where it goes in a dumpster, in a calendar in the back of my head.’
I’m trying to explain how money works in our society. Money being the idea and it’s someone else’s idea. We are born into it and someone made it because that’s the way they thought things would work. Before money existed there was this hunter-gatherer thing where there were all sorts of different ways to go about living. In a way things are different and the same because when you go fishing, you’re getting food—physically going fishing and catching fish and bringing it home so that people could eat it. And when you’re going to work you’re getting money and using that money to feed your family. So in a way things are the same but different. People have their roles and I think right now… what I’m commenting on in that song is that a lot of people don’t know their roles. They’re being told what their roles are.
Seems like life—if you go back far enough—was so much more about survival,and as we have developed all these ways to satisfy survival needs in a really instantaneous way, that idea of ‘what is my purpose?’ comes to the forefront.
Yeah, like survival isn’t even a question—I mean it always is and everyone always thinks about death, people aren’t that scared in America of how they’re going to make it because they’re not the ones going out to hunt. A lot of people can just live off of their parents. I can admit that a lot of the times when I’m shopping I don’t really think about where that food is coming from—or what the situation or environment was in the places where the people are making that food.
Is the song ‘Hunger Strike’ about our food supply?
That song’s kind of personal—it’s not as politically charged as a lot of other songs on the record. That song is—in a weird way—a love song. It’s more of a sex love song. A song about not knowing my balance and using my eyes to find my conscience. It’s like putting all of your trust about someone on your visual sight and not really thinking about everything. And that’s really it. That sounds really corny, but I guess that’s the way it is.
What exactly did you learn about judging or not judging someone on their physical appearance?
That it can make you really sick. It can lead you in the wrong direction—it can lead you into just making really bad decisions. For me it was kind of a self-destructive way. I wrote the lyrics to that song kind as a proof that that happened and I didn’t want it to happen again.
In ‘Mouth Rainboy’ you say, ‘He ain’t no rock god, just a man with an addiction.’
That song is about an artist who I’ll call ‘Artist A’ and his collaboration with another artist who we’ll call ‘Artist B.’ One’s a filmmaker and ones a musician. I made up that quote that Artist A said about artist B and it gave me a different perspective about artist B because artist B was kind of a legendary rock god. That’s what that song’s about. It shows how situations like that can change you perspective on someone.
What about ‘dictionarphilosophy’? What does that mean?
In a way this is dictionarphilosophy because I’m trying to explain to you what I mean about things. That song ‘Hairspray’ is kind of about patriarchy—the idea of it. That term I use as an idea of how you can miscommunicate words. In other languages, you can find other words for actions or ideas you may not have even thought about before. The only language I know is English. Most of the people I know, their only language is English, too. I try to think if we think very similar because of the way we obtain language and how we communicate actions and ideas through English. Mark and I kind of both had the idea for this song and I ended up writing the lyrics. and we both kind of had this idea about the patriarchy. The song’s called ‘Hairspray’ because both of our moms used to put hairspray in our hair. Before kindergarten. Both of our moms wanted us to be handsome boys and so they put hairspray in our hair. We thought that was kind of funny—that moms that came from different backgrounds would do something like that, or why they would do something like that, or why we even had hairspray in our hair in the first place.
Our part in keeping up appearances.
Part of being an American, I guess.
What are you referring to in that song when you say, ‘My teacher’s husband tells me more than he should’?
That’s kind of a weird personal thing.
What about ‘Johnny Lazor’? What is that about?
That’s actually a baseball field on a road I used to live on—that whole song’s about the road I used to live on. I would always ride along that road and a lot of weird stuff would happen. My mom saw an accident and there’s a body hanging out of the car—really violent. A few days later I was driving around the same area and there was blood all over the road. There was a couple churches next to it and a giant Christmas tree and fire stations and all this regular stuff—kind of a weird clash. A month ago I was driving on it at like two or three in the morning and an old guy had a parrot on his shoulder. Just walking on the right side of the road. It’s on the way to a town called Black Diamond.
What about the reference to the swastikas in the glass all over you?
When we first moved there I was kind of scared of it. I learned that it was fine—that I’d be safe. Kind of near the place I saw the blood and the parrot, there was a swastika on the road. I’m trying to explain this to my boss at this screen printing place I worked and he says, ‘Oh yeah, I parked near there one day and someone broke into my car and stole my stereo.’ It left this weird impression on me. It goes along with the clashing of all the other stuff near it.
Do you think there’s a unique strangeness to the northwest?
It’s funny—we just got our van broken into a few days ago and our stereo got stolen. But that can happen anywhere. It’s also funny thinking about the differences. I guess I don’t really know how to explain it but there are these bugs that make these sounds throughout the South. They’re like cicadas. But each city we got to, the bugs would make a different pattern and that was really interesting to me. In Black Diamond I would always hear frogs, and there may be frogs in the South but I only heard cicadas.
Is there a particular purpose to the grapefruit on the inside of your CD?
For this record we kind of got attached to the number twelve. There’s twelve letters in our name, there’s twelve numbers on a clock, there’s twelve colors in a color wheel—one day we needed to find an image for the inside cover of the CD and I had a grapefruit and I cut it open and I noticed that the grapefruit had twelve sections in it.
What about the moth? What’s the significance behind that?
There’s mythology to the moth, but I don’t really want to go into that. I thought the moth was kind of a cool thing to put in there because of the patterns on it. It doesn’t fit in with the significance of the twelve but in a way it’s like a natural pattern that I thought was really interesting and symmetrical. A moth signifies change. Good or bad—just change. There are all kinds of animals that signify this, but I chose moth mostly because my dad actually collected moths. And I really like that moth, mostly because of the colors. There’s not many moths that have black and red.
Why didn’t you want that in there? Change is cool. People need to be more accepting of change.
It’s one of those things where you put your beliefs into something and put it in the public, but the public may not agree with it. And when they don’t agree with it they’ll tell you and you just feel kind of shitty for believing something. That’s kind of what religion’s like too. Things clash and people get upset. That’s why it’s hard to answer these questions and that’s why I’m answering them the way I am.

TALBOT TAGORA WITH BIPOLAR BEAR, HERR JAZZ, PROTECT ME, MASTERS AND JOHNSON AND DUNCAN WILDER JOHNSON ON TUE., AUG. 4, AT L’KEG GALLERY, 311 GLENDALE BLVD., ECHO PARK. 9 PM / $5 / ALL AGES. LKEGGALLERY.COM. TALBOT TAGORA’S LESSONS IN THE WOODS OR A CITY IS OUT NOW ON HARDLY ART. VISIT TALBOT TAGORA AT HARDLYART.COM.

Cape Cod Gothic
New Work by Daniel Ingroff
October 10th through November 2, 2008
Opening Reception: October 10th 7-10pm
Group Reading Organized by Nikki Darling: October 17, 8pm
gallery open by appointment only: email

workspace 2601 presents the work of Daniel Ingroff in an installation titled “Cape Cod Gothic.” Programming at workspace 2601 is designed to provide a platform for artists to connect with other artists, critics and researchers of various disciplines. The emphasis in this collaborative process is placed on the production of experimental work.

The exhibition is comprised of two wall collages, a large-scale drawing and several small sculptural works. The pieces visually represent Ingroff’s interest in combining architectural surface and woven textile. The drawing, of a body completely covered in crocheted fabric, references the story of a teacher in Florida who was investigated for using an educational tool, “Body Sox” as a way to control hyperactive students. The idea that structures protect the body, yet also restrict movement is central to the installation.

Inspired by photos of East Germans crossing through holes in the Berlin Wall into West Germany, Ingroff has created two photo-based collages, which represent the space as woven and permeable. Weaving seemingly disparate elements such as yarn and crochet with shingles and chain-link fence, Ingroff is not only interested in re-representing contained space, but in breaking it open.

Sam McPheeters spoke to me in the alley behind the Smell while he was waiting to see his 47th Thrones show. Sam definitely did not give me a dirty, folded up napkin with a secret message written on it. He certainly didn’t tell me to read it only upon returning home to transcribe the many tapes of our hours’ long interview, during which we mostly talked about the economy and how even a mailroom job requires an interview. If, however, he had written a secret message on a napkin and handed it to me at the end of this interview, that message would have been “Salt.”

—Drew Denny

My current art show is called ‘Unleash The Walrus,’ and it displays at the Hope Gallery in Echo Park through October 5. 45 drawings, 2 giclee prints, assorted screenprints and oversized xeroxes. I’ve never done a solo show before, and I don’t know how it works when the show is over. My assumption is that it’s like the produce section of a major supermarket in that everything unsold gets tossed. So if your readers are looking for free art, they should check the dumpsters behind Hope Gallery on October 6.
When did you start drawing?
June 9, 1975. I was in first grade and I drew a peacock punching a pregnant Eskimo in the neck. I haven’t looked back since.
What’s it like to watch people look at your work?
Creepy. Stalker-style. Or whatever the word is for reverse-creepy-stalker-style. It’s like a bunch of people are reading my diary in six-to-eight minute increments. But then they smile and I see that little dollar symbol flash in their eyes and everything is OK again.
What are your favorite projects? Album covers? Zines?
In 2003, I designed a 7″ cover for a split EP by The Locust and Melt Banana. I thought it turned out well. Later that year, Melt Banana played the Silverlake Lounge. After their set, I approached their singer, Yasuko, to introduce myself. But when I stuck my hand out she gave me this weird sort of sneer that, for some reason, did not seem entirely inappropriate. Pretty much all my design experiences have involved someone sneering at me at some point or another. Zines are a little different. Almost every other fanzine I’ve ever done has gotten me in trouble, usually for bad record reviews or gratuitous personal jibes. My new zine Clog is all fiction and short humor pieces that I am hoping no one will get steamed up about. But it’s hard to tell what crazies get offended over.
How would you compare your experience showing art to your experiences performing as a musician? Less sweaty? More refined?
Playing in a band is nice when you see your family at Christmas and you can casually mention that you’ve just returned from a five-week tour to someplace exciting. But that’s about it. When I was in bands I had a lot of problems with my voice going out, and my wallet going out, and chronic embarrassment, and drunk poseurs, and poseur soundmen, and driving from state to state on negative-three hours sleep. So far none of those things have come up with the art.
Do you consider yourself a political artist?
I’m not sure what defines political art. I like a good painting of Ronald Reagan in an outhouse as much as the next guy, but I don’t know that I want my art to read message-heavy. Although I’m going to donate my cut of the Hope Gallery proceeds to charity, I’ll have to pay tax on that money first, and 54% of current federal income taxes go directly to military spending. So I guess all sellable art is political in the sense that it contributes money directly to the military.
Do you consider yourself a grown-up?
Only when teenage punk rockers give me that sideways squint that says I know nothing of their world and never will. But then I remember that I can go home and watch cartoons all night and they have to angrily do fractions.
How did you meet your wife? What’s the coolest thing about being married?
I met Tara on tour in 1996. We started dating in ’99 and married in ’02 in Hawaii. Of many advantages to being married, it’s very easy to make all your unmarried couple friends uncomfortable with the unspoken implication that they too should be married. Also Tara’s awesome.
What is your job?
I make people happy.
You’ve been known to recite Patrick Henry’s ‘Give me liberty, or give me death!’ speech. Are you a fan of his? If so, do you feel that his involvement in the adoption of the Bill of Rights made up for his opposition to the Constitution?
The thing you need to remember about Patrick Henry is that he just didn’t give a fuck. If you owed him a halfpenny and you didn’t pay, you might as well pack your bags and catch the next boat to Australia because if he found you he would seriously mess your shit up. Do you want to wind up in an eighteenth century critical care unit? Then why didn’t you just pay the man his ha’penny? As far as the constitution goes, he was probably high on barley glue or drunk on grain alcohol that week. And hey, who hasn’t questioned the constitution’s tilt towards federal power and Madisonian Republicanism from time to time?
What’s your favorite Van Halen song?
Anything where Sammy Hagar not sings.
What is the ‘Punishment Bathroom’?
Who told you about that?

SAM McPHEETERS’ ‘UNLEASH THE WALRUS’ THROUGH SUN., OCT. 5, AT HOPE GALLERY, 1547 ECHO PARK AVE., ECHO PARK. MYSPACE.COM/HOPEGALLERY. VISIT SAM McPHEETERS AT SAMMCPHEETERS.COM, CLOGMAG.COM OR LOOMOFRUIN.BLOGSPOT.COM.