Today we’d like to introduce you to Chas Martin
Alright, so thank you so much for sharing your story and insight with our readers. To kick things off, can you tell us a bit about how you got started?
I studied Visual Communication at Pratt Institute. It became an incredibly valuable skill. My path was ad agency art director, to creative director, to agency owner, to multimedia producer, to marketing director, to fine artist. I created print ads, TV commercials, package designs, stage designs, interpretive exhibits, educational courses, online entertainment, conference experiences, presentations for executives, designed toys, designed products, produced interactive games, and more. I have worked with startups, national leaders, international corporate leaders and academics.
With an art school education I was swimming in a sea of MBAs and PhDs. But, I had a unique superpower. I could turn their abstract concepts into something visible and understandable. One day, I might be translating a visionary engineering concept into a compelling investor presentation. The next day, I was creating the concept for an international business conference.
My contribution was to create credibility and memorability for someone else’s vision. About 15 years ago that all changed. It was time to focus on my own vision. With the corporate world in my rear-view mirror I started exploring my own imagination and values through painting and then sculpture.
Everything I have learned along my journey influences my sculptures today. This isn’t just aesthetic decisions about color, shape or contrast. It’s also observation of body language, motivation, attitude, and personality – humanity.
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
At times, I have wandered with only a vague goal in mind. Other times, my focus was intense and the path very clear. I believe the journey is everything. The destination is merely an excuse for going.
I only struggled when I was on the wrong path. A river doesn’t struggle to get around a rock. It simply follows the path of least resistance. In that sense, my path has been somewhat smooth. And, like a river, never straight.
I see obstacles not as a test of might but of wisdom. Confronting an obstacle is a great was to waste energy. Remaining in the flow is the goal. It’s the path that produces the very best art. Every artist knows the sensation of “flow” as you seem to be watching the art create itself. You are simply the conduit through which the energy moves. It’s a spiritual experience.
Thanks for sharing that. So, maybe next you can tell us a bit more about your work?
I create sculptures and masks. I use gesture and expression to communicate human qualities, situations, and experiences. Imagination is the driver of everything. My style is influenced by petroglyphs. At first glance, most petroglyphs appear as static figures. Closer observation reveals infinite gestural subtleties. I build on this simple 2-dimensional style through my own 3-dimensional characters to amplify their gestures. Each presents a narrative or unanswered question to the viewer.
My characters are usually gender-less and multicolored. I intentionally avoid human skin tones. The point is to get beyond the surface and focus on the essence. I object to referencing people by labels like “the first openly gay Latino male.” Labels just establish and solidify our differences. Beneath the superficial adjectives, we are all human. We all share connections to archetypal qualities, situations and experiences. If we could focus on the essence versus the surface, we would rise above the divisive language and attitudes that distract us from who we really are and what we can accomplish individually and collectively.
I have built a career on seeing things differently and creating from that perspective. I am the guy who seeks the unexpected. It is part of my DNA. I always question the input. Is this the real problem? Is this the real opportunity? Or should we be focusing further upstream. Reframing the question always changes our perspective. Sometimes, just restating a question opens the imagination to new options.
That approach also helps me avoid repetition. I don’t and can’t duplicate a sculpture. If I sense a predictable pattern, I’ll do whatever it takes to break it – rearrange my studio, change the music, turn on an audio book, grab an old sketchbook, sharpen tools. You get the idea. Restart. Reset. And suddenly, I find myself playing the “What if?” game. What if I change this detail? What if I turn that around? What if I break that rule?
My imagination is the foundation of my art and my life. In school, I was always imagining alternate scenarios: What additional detail might have changed history? What if the square root was round instead? Things that are tidy like timelines or cause and effect situations just don’t interest me. It’s the realm of possibilities and impossibilities that holds my attention.
In high school I heard Robert F. Kennedy speak. “Some people see things as they are and ask ‘Why?’ I see things that never were and ask ‘Why not?’” That quote emboldened my curiosity. It convinced me there was real value in alternate points of view. When I studied Visual Communication at Pratt, we were encouraged to read weird and apparently unrelated stuff like sci-fi, biographies, physics, metaphysics. The point wasn’t to become omniscient, but to create juxtapositions of unconnected ideas that ultimately become radically different ideas.
The creative director at my first ad agency in Boston was famous for his totally outrageous, impossible ideas. His point: It’s better to start with an insane idea and dial it back to something manageable than to take a mediocre idea and try to dress it up. Consider all possibilities no matter how ridiculous before eliminating anything. An impossible idea can lead to others that ARE possible and infinitely more interesting. If you’re myopically focused on the goal, you ignore the wrong turns that make the journey interesting and potentially more productive.
Are there any important lessons you’ve learned that you can share with us?
Mediocrity is a mortal sin! If you want recognition, take risks. Sure, you will fail. And you learn. Look at the great inventors. They failed again and again, and learned from each experience.
I create art that satisfies me. If I wanted to focus on art I know will sell, I would become a factory producing the same thing day after day. I just can’t do that. Every piece I create has to be better than the previous by some measure. If not, it lacks distinction and therefore, interest.
In art school, each completed assignment went up on the wall as you entered class. Classes began with a critique, first by fellow students and then by the instructor. Our instructors were working professionals. They were not gentle. Nor were the other students. A thick skin was essential. Being called out for a poor concept or weak execution was painful, but valuable. Being praised for a successful solution felt momentarily great. But the worst was to be overlooked completely, ignored for lack of distinction. Mediocrity! Not worthy of a reaction is equal to invisibility.
“Give me life. Give me death. Give me anything but mediocrity.” I think Hermann Hesse said that. “If it isn’t memorable, it isn’t finished.” I said that.
My process for sculpture, masks or paintings is to explore a concept through sketches. Sometimes it takes 30 or 50 to fully analyze the idea and visualize the unique solution. A perfect solution pushes the viewer’s boundaries as well as your own.
I had a valuable experience in my first ad agency job in Boston. The creative director gave me a challenging assignment. He told me not to worry about how to execute, just focus on the concept first. “Come back in an hour and show me some rough ideas.” An hour later, I laid my sketches on the floor of his office. He questioned me about several, then offered a few considerations. “Come back in an hour and show me what you’ve got.” I returned with new ideas. He reviewed them again, questioned me, offered some additional factors to consider. “Come back in an hour.” This process continued for several more rounds. At last, he singled out one and said, “This is an award winner.”
Not once did he critique my ideas. He simply expanded my thinking with another question or more information. It was like walking down a hallway as he opened door after door suggesting I look inside. At the end of the hall we had created a memorable solution.
My career has reflected that experience. Consider everything. Remain open to new input. Analyze and reconfigure the idea. Push it as far as I can. Move to the next door. A journey of questions is very different than one of conquest.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.chasmartin.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/chasmartinart/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/chas.martin.31/
- LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/chasmartin/
- Twitter: x
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCjc9k_MbcCztLDT1wCXvGdg
Image Credits
Chas Martin photographed by Brian McDonnell, BMAC Studio
Artwork images shot by the artist.