Artist's Statement

Complexity

In college, I wrote an essay for a literature class of which I was quite proud. When it was returned to me, the professor had written across the top of my paper the phrase, "You are too much of a metathinker." It seems I had gone a bit too far in my analysis. Not content with a simple dissection of my subject, I had applied the underlying themes to a grander scale. This was not the task assigned, but it still earned me the A.

The story of the essay is a perfect example of the forces behind my art. Be it good or bad, I cannot resist the call of complexity. If I'm assigned a simple task, I will find a way to make it a complex endeavor. I have a hard time just "playing the game." Doing just enough to get by, even for unimportant tasks, is not something I can easily do. I live in a world of concepts and ideas, and I gleefully miss the trees for the forest time and time again in a quest for intellectual satisfaction. By going for gusto every time, I can ensure my successes (and my failures) can be epic! That is all I want. Good or bad, I thrive as long as things aren't boring.

This affinity for complexity is readily visible in my art. My goal is to provide as much visual and intellectual stimulation as possible in a piece. Negative space is just as important to me as positive space so I must strike a delicate balance to keep the experience from becoming overwhelming to a viewer. I use a visual hierarchy to give the viewer a path to discover the details hidden in my work. Each level of complexity flows into the next, creating art that is both striking and deep.

Contradictions

If one wishes to impart a lesson to a person, just stating the message is the least effective method. At that point, the message is only a string of words that easily dissipate once the conversation is over. One has to illustrate their point and allow the audience to see the concept in action. One method of instruction I employ often is the use of deliberate contradiction. Contradictions can shock the system, or just encourage a viewer to investigate the artwork further. What could be sad scenes are offset by cheerful colors. What should be a rigid structure, like a building foundation or a game board, is thrown into flux. Organic elements, which should be free and wild, coalesce into a solid framework. What would be a human figure is instead converted into an industrial structure or even a wispy element of the ethereal. Nothing is as it seems. The uncertainty created by contradictions prompts the viewer to actively analyze an idea.

Storytelling

My approach to narratives is to create a frame. Rather than present the full story to a viewer, I present a singular scene with clues to the greater tale. Upon investigation, seemingly unrelated elements inside a piece begin to form the conceptual outline. A tonal piece is created. This allows me to tell my own stories, while the works remain open for viewers to fill in the details with their personal narratives. One work can inspire stories of hope and tales of despair. One can tell a lot about a person from the stories they create.

Accessibility

As I began experimenting in printmaking, I created a series of complex intaglio prints. Each print was crammed full of information with the compositions universally complex. The stories I told in those pieces were very detailed, but without a key to grab attention no one else could figure out where to begin with decoding the work. As much as I loved the pieces, I realized I had to change to allow others to enjoy the work. For my next series, I retained the complexity of the prints, but differentiated between the ideas more. Because I was working with contradictions, I created two prints. The theme was a common one of mine, mechanical elements competing with natural elements, and to illustrate the relationship I added a new layer to each print. On one print I added a large mechanical structure. On the other, to represent nature, I placed a large icon of a fish. Not only did they help the viewer understand the ideas behind the work, but the large figures were able to grab attention from across the room. By realizing I could not exist only speaking to myself, I learned to balance my complexity with visual impact. Not only was this a powerful lesson, but that print series ended up a prize winner.

As much as I love to witness audiences interacting with my works, the typical art viewer does not spend the time to investigate every work he or she encounters. We have all gone to museums and casually strolled through room after room of art without pause. When we stop, it is because we have found a piece that has captured our attention visually. Only then, once we are already interested, do we begin to look deeper into the work. A deep, involved piece of art is powerless if the initial visual appeal cannot raise interest.

It's very easy for artists to create art solely for themselves or other artists. I desire to cast a wider net. If a person comes up to me and tells me, "I don't know anything about art, but I like this," I feel I have been successful. Art should be for everyone. If I can catch the eye of a casual view, I have started them on the journey to discover the wonderful depths art contains.

Christopher J. Paulsen