Szymanski and the Depth of Color

Kendall graduate Nicholas Szymanski talks to Design Pulse about his creative process and how his artwork explores the power and depth of color. His minimal and layered paintings represent a new world of visual meditation.

 
Studio 3.JPG
 

Blades of Grass in Szymanski Studio

KARDIA: When engaged in your creative process, do you have a consistent pattern of routines? How do you go about sketching, mixing, painting, layering? What is your typical studio work day like?

NICHOLAS SZYMANSKI: My routine is usually one of going to the studio late morning and staying until 5:00 PM or 6:00 PM. The first thing I do is walk in and spend some time looking at the works in progress that I have left on the wall from days prior. Maybe six or seven works at a time are arranged on the wall and I usually focus on a painting for a few months, perhaps a year in some cases until it can be considered finished. The paintings are very much centered around color, material and application. I will spend some time mixing oil paints, perhaps adding raw pigments or pulverized mica to the material. The paint is often times further adulterated with a safflower or walnut oil medium in order to achieve a desirable consistency, then applied with various brushes, pallets knives or a variety of different nap rollers. After working for a while I may break away to prepare panels or canvases with layers of gesso, sanding in-between coats, in order that there are new surfaces waiting to be worked on at some point. In addition to surface preparation, a fair amount of time is spent documenting finished paintings, editing the photos and creating an updated inventory for the galleries I interact with. Cleaning is also a large part of my studio routine. The end of the day is typically marked by cleaning brushes, reorganizing the space and maybe sweeping the floor. After all of this I usually sit in my chair and look at one or two paintings on a clean wall apart from all of the other work in progress.

K: Through the process of creating a painting, how do you know when one is finished? Do you have steps, a recipe that you follow for each piece?

NS: Knowing when a painting is finished is in my opinion a skill and intuition cultivated over time. Every art thing has specific thresholds which can be exceeded or not. One needs to observe the work, entertain those variables then hopefully act in accordance with what is necessary. A recipe may be a more healthy and constructive idea for design or illustration than the sort of art I am committed to. There are of course steps to most any activity we choose to do, a beginning, middle and end. In saying that, the back and forth, experimentation and what if propositions in my paintings are what make them personally compelling. I honestly think something truly great can be accomplished instantaneously or over a span of years, it is all about intention in that respect. If the feeling is not there, it is not done, or may even need to be started over again. All work leads to more work and the aim is to delight in that process.

 
B. A Decade, oil on panel, 16x12in, 40.5x30.5cm, 2020.jpg
 

B. A Decade

Oil on panel, 2020

K: Your most recent selected works are high contrast minimal paintings or paintings focusing on temperature and saturation. What attracts you most to these color choices and combinations?

NS: My main concerns are material, color, light, application, surface, and how these things all interact then provide a opportunity to see harmony or distortion through quiet observation. A lot of the choices I make are referential to instances of spatial organization and chromatic phenomenon I see in day to day life. I was very motivated at one point by an essay I read about Ellsworth Kelly by the historian Emily Hage, the focus was on how he had transcribed the grid pattern of windows on a factory roof into a drawing. This was earlier in his career while residing in Paris. So I look at a lot things in my environment as subject matter for the taking.

K: How do you capture these things?

NS: I stop to take a lot of photos of something or other because I believe it is captivating. These photos are quite literally starting points, though. I’m not interested in sharing them or telling someone that my girlfriend and I were taking a walk down the street, when all of a sudden I saw a sun bleached Hello Kitty bandaid and bag of chips next to each other and decided to make a painting in reference to it. In addition to finding inspiration through day to day life I spend a lot of time reading about and looking at other artist’s work. The art of those I admire certainly has some influence upon my decisions. I also like to peruse paints at art supply stores and buy something sheerly on impulse, because I thought it might be interesting to use. Visiting the paint sections of hardware stores and taking a pile of swatches is another form of source material. Sometimes a work may be comprised of a fairly saturated straight out of the tube mass of paint that is slightly adulterated by some other color. Nothing is quite off the table. I enjoy that modern Baudelarian idea of the Flâneur. A passionate spectator wanders without purpose and transcribes what they see. Something becomes an art through vision, and how that vision interacts with both the capacities and limitations of a chosen medium and mind.

 
Lightforms, Saint Norbert University (2018) 2.jpg
 

Lightforms

Saint Norbert University, 2018

K: As an artist, what do you think is your most important responsibility when creating and sharing your work with the public?

NS: My standpoint is one of being devoted to the work. A public will do as they wish with whatever they are provided. People are going to interpret what they see. That is in our nature and it is fine with me, but I have little to no interest in anyone else’s needs or desires. This may sound abrasive but I think being an artist has a lot to do with solitude and contemplation, it is to an extent a terribly possessive and indulgent experience. I suppose an artist's most important responsibility is to make the work and give it what it needs until its vital and true. I enjoy this Philip Guston quote, “Do I really believe that? I make a mark, a few strokes, I argue with myself, not do I like or not, but is it true or not? Is that what I mean, is that what I want?”. Those questions are a good summation of what being an artist in a private sense is like. Interacting with a public in that light is a strange dynamic. Some people may strongly relate, most do not and likely never will. My belief is contrary to popular idea that art is for everyone, or should be for everyone. Quite literally anyone may interact with a subject or object but that does not intensively mean it is going to resonate or needs to. In my opinion giving up on the idea that anyone is ever going to totally understand what you have chosen to do is probably a good idea, as it is a superficial concern. Achieving detachment is when the truth and freedom of work starts to emerge and be present.

K: What questions or feelings do you hope your viewers think of or experience when they see your work?

NS: I hope people enjoy it for what it is or for whatever associations and interpretations they might bring along. I have no intentions of telling people what something may be about or what they should feel in seeing it, that is not my role. Theres a whole spectrum of feeling and it is all valid. As soon as a work is done its out of my control and that lack carries over to an exhibition or wherever a painting might end up. Someone can love it, hate it, or not care, I am not bothered by any way that relationship may be established or play out.

 
FTD, Oil acrylic on muslin over panel,8x16 in,2019-2020(c).jpg.jpg
 

FTD

Oil, acrylic on muslin over panel

2019-2020

K: What ways do you find inspiration for yourself outside of the studio? What things/hobbies help fill your heart?

NS: It is nice to sit around and read, I usually have a couple books going at a time, typically fiction, philosophy, something about art or maybe a biography. Anything restful is inspirational to me. I can lay on the couch and daydream about something, let my mind go, then maybe I have a bit more clarity and ability to revisit my work the next day. My girlfriend is also an artist, so we’ll discuss this or that idea or a particular work we’ve been focused on. We spend a lot of time taking walks, hanging out at home, cooking, drinking wine, playing with our cat, and watching movies.  Those sorts of things are heartening for me. It is important to have time where I am not directly focused on painting, as my work is what I naturally gravitate to and consistently think about.

K: How have your art communities supported you in your development? In Grand Rapids and outside? In what ways do you think Grand Rapids can improve its support for the arts community? 

NS: I am currently working with several different galleries in New York, London, Cologne and Brescia. The galleries have supported me in my development by presenting me with opportunities to exhibit my work, as well as promoting my art and selling it to collectors. I have had some friends who are curators and historians in the United States and Europe write about my work as well. Grand Rapids has had a similar role in supporting my work through exhibitions, opportunities to speak to students, participate in charities and occasionally selling paintings. It is difficult for me to think about and express ways that Grand Rapids might make improvements in regards to supporting the arts though. I have been out of the loop for a couple years now as my work has started be exhibited outside of the state and country. The conversation usually boils down to a desire for opportunities to exhibit and sell work. So I may suggest that some more contemporary minded galleries that are less focused on exhibition of academic art be developed and that patrons start taking risks by purchasing challenging work at appropriate prices. An audience here is very different than one in say New York or Europe. We are typically not raised with the value and idea that its important to collect art and that it is vital to invest in a contemporary cultural dialogue. The direction we are possessed by seems to be more in line with art as ornament rather than a contemplative object and/or experience that requires some time and effort. It is a poorly pragmatic situation and I hate to say that I am not very fond of the direction and attitude that contemporary art here is taking.

 
A. Guest Room Light, oil on panel, 16x8in, 40.64x20.32cm,2020.jpg
 

A. Guest Room Light

Oil on panel, 2020

K: Have you always experienced life in a creative way? In what ways did you take the necessary steps to move forward as a working artist?

NS: I think I may have had a need to do more creative things for a long time before giving myself permission to do so. My family background is more in line with the aerospace industry, engineering and production than anything theoretical or directed toward art. Painting became an obsession when I was perhaps sixteen years old and when that happened life oddly started to make a lot more sense. In respect to moving forward as an artist I focused on my studio work after going to college as opposed to attending a masters program. Perhaps one of the most productive and surprising events in developing my career was befriending two women in France who took an interest in my work. They began promoting my paintings online, then later featured them in a physical publication, along with a number of other great internationally exhibiting artists. After that had occurred I began receiving much more attention in Europe and America. Then in turn have been provided with more opportunities. Looking back on how the past couple years turned out feels crazy but things worked out somehow. In 2018 I signed a representation agreement with Asphodel Gallery in Brooklyn, NY. Soon after a friend who is an art historian and curator in New York wrote a critical assessment of my show ‘Notes To Diane’ at Asphodel. It was my first solo exhibition in New York, and having a piece written by a someone I respect who has wrote about so many artists I greatly admire was truly an honor. So all in all I think progressing as an artist has had a lot to do with intense focus on my work, a bit of traveling here and there, and forming good relationships with artists, curators and other creative professionals.

 
Notes To Diane 2018 New York 2.jpg
 

Notes to Diane

New York, 2018

K: For those artists struggling with resistance, or artists' block, in the creative process what advice would you give them? How would you help them get going again? What helped you in those seasons?

NS: It is very important to have the ability to shift perspectives at times. A block could be a formal issue or merely how one might feel about their work. It is important to not view ones own work as this sacred special thing at times. If it’s really bad and one knows it, I think it is quite alright and maybe even best to throw it in the garbage or cut the canvas off and start over. Taking a break is important sometimes as well, its not a race, saying no every now and then can be very empowering and formative. Maybe go for a walk, read a book or watch a movie. I think taking time away from working is often imperative. I’ve been painting for about 15 years. For myself any sort of narrative gets in the way of making my work and it’s important that I think about it in a very literal sense while I am painting. Limitations are important and actually a vital component of art. Here is my material, the surface, tools, and light. Now make the painting.

K: That strikes us as a very healthy and balanced view.

NS: Contrary to popular belief, being an artist is not this perpetual state of ecstasy and productivity, it is actually very challenging to dedicate one’s time and discipline to something that in all reality may not pan out the way one thought it might. Maybe some critic or even a random viewer finds it terribly difficult, disagreeable, or dismissible. Balance this with friends and family who have little to no critical ability or understanding of art giving you praise because thats the moral standard. This sort of thing is inevitable, very real, and soul crushing. I seem to have this recurrent thought probably once or twice a year of thinking “What the hell am I even doing?”. This is usually followed by a couple weeks of walking around feeling like an anvil is going to land on my head. Eventually you just go back and start again anyway. Keep putting one foot in front of the other. There is little else to be done. The whole thing feels absurd, but in turn, not doing it would be a total denial of life. People certainly have strategies to get past blocks but I think the right frame of mind can take one much further than some device.

Marie Couretas