KEVIN LYONS Slippery Slope

SLIPPERY SLOPE / HIDING IN PLAIN SIGHT
A NEW Series of Monster Drawings
Kevin Lyons at The Fridge!

“Yes, the drawing is sketchy, but this is how it is. I make references to the next thing I am going to make. Therefore everything is both a sketch and a completed work.” Artist, Josh Smith at The Drawing Center, 2024

As many know, I have rarely presented my Monster characters as “art”. Rarely have they adorned gallery walls. They are most often used as graphics on everything from t- shirts to footwear, to snacks and candy, to walls and murals. I have admittedly struggled with the idea that they are or could ever become “art” in the same way that I view and consider art to be; as expressive and conceptual. Created for self-expression, not commerce. I have not as of yet found that personal bridge to pushing these characters into a gallery environment. I have never felt comfortable simply taking my graphics and murals and painting them on canvases. Do they belong on a wall or a t-shirt? As an Art Director by nature and most of my career, I am my own worst critic. Judgement leads to rationalization. Overthinking and overconceptualizing. All of my little micro hang-ups and overthinking basically have prevented me from sharing that which I love to do. However, my confidence does lie in act of drawing these characters and it is what I love to do.

They are so fun to draw and that is why there are so many of them. so many sizes and looks and expressions. The number of different Monsters are endless. But drawings are not paintings, And again, the art question arises. Another self-imposed hang up: I have also never felt comfortable presenting just drawings as a complete show. Several years ago before Covid and years making more and more graphics and doing more and more collaborations, I went to see the Chris Ofili Show at The New Museum. As part of that show I learned of Ofili’s series of watercolors which he called Afromuses. Within this incredible show, these drawings/watercolors were presented as what he termed “warm-up drawings” done each morning in studio. A way to start the day. A clear deliverable each day. One a day. Same figure. Same medium. Same size. I was intrigued by the idea and the discipline of such repetition and control. But of the energy and differences between each. Could this be a means to an end for what I do?

Inspired by the practice of Ofili and using an equally very rigid set of rules and guardrails – lack of color, same medium, same size of paper and same size of Monster – I set out to create this series of drawings that hang here today. I limited the drawings to 10 x 14 inches on Arches watercolor paper. Same size Monster on each page. And I only used KRINK and Montana ink washes with pencil, graphite, and a little touch of aerosol. They would each take several days, but the concept was similar. As I progressed, I feel like the process and practice began to pull my Monsters out of a very graphic, cartoon-like world and into some sort of semi-formal art experiment. By approaching them as a bridge – as studies towards a more evolved set of pieces to be determined – it allowed me to be less critical and see them simply as expressive drawings. With this simple exercise, I started to like them more and assess them differently. I began to look at them as more as artworks and less like graphics. More animated. More expressive. You can almost touch and feel them now. You can sense the way they sound. The way they might move.

I have often said that I do not draw these characters. I design them. I always saw this as derogatory. Lines are straight and level. Obsessed over. Exact. Even curves are labored over. But the truth is they are only finished as design. The origin itself is always loosely and rapidly drawn. There is always a burst of the pencil or the pen. A scribble turns to a series of loops and curves to form hair and eyes and teeth. The mark making itself is, by its very nature, very expressive. The design and control parts of the process always originate from a gestural improvisation and an exploration of line. The slope is almost always slippery. I wind up bending to its path. As we slip the more we try to keep upright, and the harder we inevitably fall. Lessons are rarely learned. Most of the time we simply stumble over them. All this time that I have been trying so hard to discover a bridge to expressive art making, it has always been hiding in plain sight. Julien David and his The Fridge Gallery recognizes both my struggle and my critical self-assessment. And he also sees the potential in this series. His insistence and persistence for me to show these and his faith in their worth and potential has given me the courage to finally display these pieces. These drawings may be a path to something else, OR they may just be what they are: drawings of the Monsters that fill my head on the daily.

Either way, enjoy.
Kevin Lyons