ALEX ELLIS
Art is not some rarefied realm of academic discourse and eight-digit commerce. Art is an aspect of being human. It's nourishing for one to create, it's stimulating for one to experience, and it's rewarding for one to share. My job is to surrender -to give up being anything but "as Al as I can be." -to relax into the pretzel posture of being rooted to the world and orbiting outside it in the same moment. -to accept the irony that though I have done this for many years, it is not knowing what I'm doing that gives the work presence. For me, a great work of art is honestly made -it has nothing to prove and nothing to hide. It simply is what it is and speaks to us
What I do is like dancing. There are the opening notes -the first tentative gestures where the rhythm and tone emerge. I respond tentatively to the cues, relax and let the piece lead. My role is to be the adept partner. I follow. As the music becomes familiar, I can then take some freedom to refine and clarify the piece that it may be directed to an audience, rather than a private tango. My intention is to be simply present and responsive. I like to tell people, "The meaning or import of my work is none of my business. You know as much about it as I do. My job is just to show up and make it happen." It makes for good repartee at a reception, but I really do mean it. I'm not saying that I don't have personal ideas and associations in my head as I'm engaged in the work, but it's no different than the personal ideas and associations anyone has as they encounter the finished pieces. The only difference is that I was there when it happened. The work is what it is, whatever I or anyone thinks it means.
The paintings are made in encaustic -an ancient recipe of melted beeswax and botanical resins. It forms a magically luminous and fragrant medium which is uniquely versatile. It is another partner in my dance. As I paint, I also make paint. Each layer of paint is made as I work -tailored for just what is needed in the moment. This allows for the colors to evolve and develop along with the piece. Encaustic is typically applied to the work hot -either as an oily liquid at 200°f or a molten paste at 150°f. It can be applied with a brush, a trowel, or poured on. Each addition to the work must take place very quickly as the medium cools and hardens in a few seconds. Each new layer of encaustic is then fused into the existing work by careful remelting -either with a heat gun, a torch, or an iron. After the new layers have been fused in and cooled, the piece may be worked subtractively -carved, scraped, burnished. It's rather technical and labor intensive, but it’s worth it. The finished work -the object itself- is mysteriously appealing. It is a single matrix of pigments suspended in a solid, translucent body. It's like petrified amber with something miraculous embedded in it. And it will last for centuries as long as it stays in an environment that human beings enjoy.
Alex Ellis is a self-taught artist living in Northern New Mexico with his partner, two dogs, three ducks, and a flock of mixed chickens.
What I do is like dancing. There are the opening notes -the first tentative gestures where the rhythm and tone emerge. I respond tentatively to the cues, relax and let the piece lead. My role is to be the adept partner. I follow. As the music becomes familiar, I can then take some freedom to refine and clarify the piece that it may be directed to an audience, rather than a private tango. My intention is to be simply present and responsive. I like to tell people, "The meaning or import of my work is none of my business. You know as much about it as I do. My job is just to show up and make it happen." It makes for good repartee at a reception, but I really do mean it. I'm not saying that I don't have personal ideas and associations in my head as I'm engaged in the work, but it's no different than the personal ideas and associations anyone has as they encounter the finished pieces. The only difference is that I was there when it happened. The work is what it is, whatever I or anyone thinks it means.
The paintings are made in encaustic -an ancient recipe of melted beeswax and botanical resins. It forms a magically luminous and fragrant medium which is uniquely versatile. It is another partner in my dance. As I paint, I also make paint. Each layer of paint is made as I work -tailored for just what is needed in the moment. This allows for the colors to evolve and develop along with the piece. Encaustic is typically applied to the work hot -either as an oily liquid at 200°f or a molten paste at 150°f. It can be applied with a brush, a trowel, or poured on. Each addition to the work must take place very quickly as the medium cools and hardens in a few seconds. Each new layer of encaustic is then fused into the existing work by careful remelting -either with a heat gun, a torch, or an iron. After the new layers have been fused in and cooled, the piece may be worked subtractively -carved, scraped, burnished. It's rather technical and labor intensive, but it’s worth it. The finished work -the object itself- is mysteriously appealing. It is a single matrix of pigments suspended in a solid, translucent body. It's like petrified amber with something miraculous embedded in it. And it will last for centuries as long as it stays in an environment that human beings enjoy.
Alex Ellis is a self-taught artist living in Northern New Mexico with his partner, two dogs, three ducks, and a flock of mixed chickens.
