About MeEMAIL / [email protected]
My name is Michael Hayes. I've been doing the art thing since I was seventeen in 1969. I used to have one of those screw together tripods in my bedroom, and my girl friend Carol's Dad, George Mangan, gave me a set of Grumbacher oils. I was hooked, and I remain grateful to George.
I grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area, and owe a deep gratitude to my high school art teacher, John Fagrell, who inspired and encouraged me to paint, and gave me the confidence to pursue a life as an artist. I graduated with an MA from California State University, Sacramento in 1975, and had the good fortune to study with many notable artists at that time, including Oliver Jackson, Joseph Rafael, Jack Ogden, Steve Kaltenbach, Bill Allen, Carlos Villa, It was a nascent time back then in Sacramento, filled with energy and a fluid connection with UC Davis, the San Francisco Art Institute and CCAC. Carol and I shared a studio that Kaltenbach turned us on to, and we were in the mix. I started teaching high school art and photography in 1984, and retired after 36 years in the classroom. I've been married for 42 years, and I still live in Sacramento, there's a good vibe here. I am truly fortunate to spend my time with only the coolest of kids, a supportive soul-mate, and a place to paint.. About My Work "What's my work about? Well, some are about 18" x 24", some are 36" x 48", and I've got one in my studio that's 60" x 72", believe it or not!" - Japhey Ryder I don't like to speak in pretentious, psuedo-intelectualiized, self-indulgent, "art-speak" language when I discuss my art. My work doesn't reflect any ongoing immersion with Post-Constructivist, Retro-Subconscious Freudian Slips, infused with just a hint of Proto-Fauvist Reactionary Abstract Expressionism, or any of that crap. Unless that's what you want to hear, and in that case, my work reflects my ongoing immersion with post-constructivist, Retro-Subconscious Freudian Slips, infused with more than a hint of Proto-Fauvist Reactionary Abstract Expressionism, and all of that crap. I don't follow "isms". I don't do, "Oh, do you do landscapes? Do you have any in a pastel taupe that will match my couch?". No. I do not. I'm not, "Oh you're so talented!". I don't know who's hot in the art market, and I've always been more than a little repulsed by the notion that art is just another manifestation of our materialistic, false-idol worshiping, popular cultural fetishism. Not that that I would be adverse to selling some of my work to free up some storage space. I cannot speak for other artists, but what I do is something of an obsession- a spiritual obsession, that is hard to explain. I wouldn't call it an addiction. I save that word for other things. It's more like a rising tide that I can't turn back. I still don't really understand what makes go out to my studio first thing in the morning- every morning. And then paint late into the night when I should be getting my beauty sleep. I paint when I'm sick. I paint when I'm happy. I paint when I'm so tired I almost fall down. I paint when I'm bored, and I paint when I have no inspiration. Paint, paint, paint, see Mike paint. Painting is my communion with the Oneness, Tawhid, the Mojo, the Tonal, the, as Abraham reportedly heard it, the "am that I am", the Tao. You know what I mean. The One. The Only. It's a spiritual communion. And when I am making that communion I listen for the whispers. I hear the ghosts. I am sure that I am visited by Spirits that reside I know not where. I hear a little voice that calms my fears. A little voice that pushes me forward through pain and doubt. The little voice that I can hear when you pull off the addiction tethers, and the band aids. When I'm painting, and I'm in the Zone pop lockin' it, Popeye said it best, "I am what I am, and that's all what I am". My Studio Practice I work in my studio nearly everyday. I primarily use acrylic paint these days, and I'm picky about what I paint with. When I was young, dumb and broke, I used newspaper, glitter, and rejects from Standards Brands Paint. Not anymore folks! For those of you worried about life, death and permanence; perhaps you see something you want to buy, and you're thinking, "I wonder how long those synthetic pigments will retain their vibrant, light-fast saturation and luminocity? And did he use a real Mexican poncho for a canvas, or is it a Sears poncho?". Well, I'm not young anymore, I'm still dumb as a rock, but unlike the days of my youthful exuberance and poverty, I keep my painting supports as archival as I can. And I only use the good stuff- Golden, Liquitex, Utrecht, Sennelier, Arches watercolor paper, Rives BFK, the Sacramento Bee... My studio is a sacred place. How else could I commune with my Higher Power and create my burnt offerings of love and mystery if it were anything else? I am truly grateful to have this space in my life. My only regret is that I did not view it a such earlier in my life. Especially 51st. Street. I freely admit my sin. I have used my studio to hide from my demons, and sink into hopeless despair. It might be a holy place, but its not magic. Its a spiritual tool, that facilitates my spiritual journey, and not a spiritual snow shovel to gather up the ashes of my sordid ass scattered across the floor. They go in the garbage. I like to start with loose, kinetic sweeps of paint, child-like, dancing, unthinking. I am Jackson Pollock, cigarette dangling, Claude Monet, blurred with cataracts but driven with passion juking to Florence and the Machine. Flying. Primal. Consciously conscious. Beethoven deaf but hearing his final symphony. That first caveman putting a hand on the wall, I sometimes start with a concept, or purpose in mind, but often the beginning leads me somewhere I didn't expect. Happy accident or divine intervention? I'll have to ask Bob Ross. I use everything I can get my hands on with respect to art materials. I've got a hundred brushes. I use three of them. The nice thing about acrylics is their versatility. You don't have to worry about fat over thin, or thin over fat; you can mix anything with anything. And when its 105 f in your studio they dry fast! But the brands have differences, and some of those differences can be annoying. I love working with neon florescents, and I've tried them all. Except One Shot. The cheap ones are like Jello. Terrible. I like their pop; the reds are really red, like Renoir red, that Cadmium Red right out of the tube just doesn't have. Some of what I use I mix myself. The iridedescents come as a powder. I mix them with a little gloss medium, or glazing liquid, and a wetting agent, and Voila! Alchemy. Douglass says I have a palette, but I don't use a palette. I don't mix up little dibby-dabs of paint on a oval sheet of masonite and stick my thumb through it. I do it Bucket and Brush style- quart cups from Ace Hardware, yogurt cups, and left over plastic containers from dinner. Doing my part for the environment. I rarely, rarely, rarely mix up a "special" color. I use colors direct out of the tube or jar, and then "mix" colors using layers and layers and layers of color. Some of the little swatches on a painting like Bug Bug may have as many as twelve different applications of paint. Tedious, and so unlike me. And sometimes the consistency and flow and color saturation really gets my heart pumping. I just used some Sennelier Prussian Blue Who gets excited about paint like that? I hope you enjoy my work, and get something from it. Feel free to give me some feedback at [email protected] |