Published January 1, 2000

After Rebate by Ron RichterAfter Rebate by Ron RichterPeople ask me all the time why I'm so weird. They almost never ask me why my art's so weird. Maybe they just assume it stems from a personal problem, or maybe they have learned through several embarrassing episodes that this sort of question clearly demonstrates their ignorance of art and endangers their status with the Beautiful People.

Or perhaps this is a clear indication that making art is the perfect occupation for me. I can sit at home and paint a picture of the crescent moon with a big foot sticking out of it without fear of verbal abuse because, after all, I'm an artist, a valuable and necessary member of modern society. I realize my vision is twisted, but I try to be subtle. I like to paint nice bright pictures that lure the viewer in and then slowly sink in the disturbing elements. Like a puzzle or a riddle, a good painting requires time and thought to appreciate.

Portrait of Van Gough by Ron RichterPortrait of Van Gough by Ron RichterI prefer to start a painting with no clear idea what it is going to look like. This way, it is a mystery for me to unravel, a journey into uncharted waters. It's like working a Ouija board, except I have a paint brush in my hand. An ironic reversal takes place: The painting's imagery — which starts out as a nonsensical collage of shapes and lines — soon dictates the development of the painting and its message, as opposed to my conscious will dictating the message beforehand and forcing line and shape to do my bidding.

Art historians thousands of years from now will undoubtedly deduce that I was influenced by the surrealists and their notions about creating art from the subconscious mind. Although this is a subject of much heated debate at the present time, I will admit that I learn the most intriguing things about myself from my paintings. Sometimes, a painting will bring out an intense issue that my rational mind cannot approach or articulate. Other times, I have to have the message explained to me by other people.

So, that's what it's all about. Getting inside my head and dragging out all the crazy business. Is that so weird? There's some great stuff in there — stuff you won't even see on cable. I'm putting mine on canvas.

— Ron Richter

Gallery One

The Glaring Man
14" x 16", acrylic on board, 2000

Gallery Two

The Missing Head
36" x 48", acrylic on canvas, 2000

 

Images Copyright © 2000 Ron Richter