We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful John Sharp. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with John below.
John, appreciate you joining us today. Do you think your parents have had a meaningful impact on you and your journey?
For as long as I can remember, being an artist is all I have ever known. I’ve never had a plan B. When I was about 12, my mom signed me up for weekend art classes at the Flint Institute of Art in Michigan and that was an epiphany moment for me- my first taste at what a studio life would be like. Staying with my dad on summer breaks as a teen, he would let me take over the sunroom as a studio. I would stay up through the wee hours and sleep on the futon when I could no longer manage to focus my eyes on the miniscule details of my colored pencil drawings. Waking up on a futon with 2 hours of sleep is truly a rite of passage for every artist! During my senior year of high school, my parents funded a lavish 2 week tour of France and Spain through my school’s National Art Honor Society chapter.
It wasn’t until I became an adult and a parent myself that I more fully realized the incredible time and financial sacrifices they made toward my pursuit as an artist. They never tried to push me against my own current. My childhood was one of persistent validation. Even after I moved away from home, my mom drove over 400 miles to come to my first exhibition in Chicago. I can’t remember a time where my parents ever said “No” to any creative ambition or need I had growing up. They have taught me to always be on the side of “Yes” when it comes to supporting your children.
Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.
It was during my undergraduate studies when I was first introduced to the photorealism movement. Artists like John Baeder, Richard Estes,Robert Cottingham, and Ralph Goings have been massively influential to my work. The emotional neutrality of their work remains richly satisfying as I have never been one to get caught up in lofty ethereal meanings. So for about the past ten-fifteen years, my paintings have settled into that genre. I have been consistently captivated by the nostalgia of old neon signs, abandoned spaces, and forgotten objects left to the elements.
With the forerunners of the photorealism movement as my prime inspiration, I do suppose there is an urgency to my work that perhaps was not as present with the original artists who started the movement. In the 1960s and 70s many of the scenes in their paintings were still rather new and fresh but now those same places are being torn down, replaced, or abandoned to the elements altogether. It’s a race against time really with my work. Many of the buildings or neon signs in the paintings I’ve done even in just the past 10 years are now since gone or have been replaced with, frankly, lackluster modern plastic advertising. My work has really become about keeping these remnants of the past alive on canvas before they are gone forever.
Can you share a story from your journey that illustrates your resilience?
Getting in on the “art scene” can honestly be a very frustrating pursuit. It can feel like an exclusive club with a very tiny revolving door that never stops long enough for you to actually get inside and check it out. Whether it’s your first time trying to get into a show, or your 100th, you have to be willing to accept that your work is going to be rejected at some point, it’s just part of the game.
With that in mind, over the years I’ve had to maintain the position that before any exhibition, gallery, or commission, I am making my work for me first. I am the one who gets to validate my art. Nobody else. When I keep that mentality, I get less frustrated with how much or little exposure my work is getting. Then when an opportunity does arise and works out, it’s a whole lot easier to enjoy the low tides and the high tides all the same.
In your view, what can society to do to best support artists, creatives and a thriving creative ecosystem?
I think before we can talk big picture society, we have to think small. Think local. The best thing, in my opinion, that small communities can do is make space for artists to show their work. The world doesn’t need more bed bath and beyond cookie cutter mess. Local businesses need work that reflects their own actual community. When small businesses offers up a storefront window, a bulletin board, a counter to sell small prints, or a space above a restaurant booth for a local artist to showcase their work, it’s a win-win. Both parties now have new opportunities to generate publicity and revenue. They can rotate work every month, put up a flyer, bring in live music and make a scene out of it. Ultimately, because this system works, it becomes contagious to surrounding businesses and helps the local economy on a greater level. More-so, this sort of thing cultivates organic and authentic art-centric communities that people actually want to be a part of. It makes room for everybody. This type of system works and we need more of it.
Contact Info:
- Website: www.johnsharpart.com
- Instagram: @johnsharpart