Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Marco Logsdon. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Marco , appreciate you joining us today. We’d love to hear about when you first realized that you wanted to pursue a creative path professionally.

A professional artistic path…if presented with that question after finishing college in the late 80s, I most likely would have responded with a blank stare and shrug since I did not know a path like that existed. Don’t get me wrong; I knew artists in New York and larger cities managed to make a living creating art. I could never see myself living in such a place, so making art on my terms was the only way forward. I have always tried to live without expectation, only freedom for myself and others. If I only managed to create one painting a year because my means of survival (a job) consumed most of the day, that was fine. I have always had a designated work area for painting and making collages, so I never shelved my work or put it away for later. The desire to create is an all-consuming way of life for me, and it wasn’t till the mid-90s, after I found representation with several galleries nationally, that I started to “feel” like a professional artist.

Marco , love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?

Growing up in Arkansas as part of a family of six children raised by a single mother, I was considered quiet. My mother did what she could to provide, and being an excellent seamstress and a craft person, she encouraged all her children to draw, paint, and do crafts, which is what I did. I believe that is why I developed an eye for color and design. My grandmother was a quilter, using scraps of material left over from my mother’s sewing projects. I loved seeing how the cutouts formed the patterns, and what could have been considered waste was now part of a beautiful object, utilitarian, yes, but still artistic in its way. This was, after all, rural Arkansas in the 1970s. Flash forward to the 1980s, and I left Arkansas for Kentucky. I attended Asbury College, a mostly religious college, but it also had an Art Department and offered a BFA. I did not plan to be an art major when I started college. I had not decided on a major then and felt a little lost. My roommate came to Asbury knowing he would study art with a concentration in painting. So, being that I have always been interested in the arts, I began visiting him in the Art Building when he worked on class projects in the evenings. This is when I saw what the other students were doing and realized I could do better. Not to be snobbish, but the lack of skill surprised me. I had never thought I could support myself as an artist, but once I started classes, I knew that didn’t matter and that making art was what I was meant to do. I was lost no more, and I never looked back.
My process developed slowly over time and is a little unusual as I use tar in my paintings. As a burgeoning painter in the 1980s, I saw works created with Post-modern materials. My introduction to the use of tar in art came when I was in Washington, DC, and saw the work of Donald Sultan. I was not into his subject matter, but the use of tar fascinated me. It absorbed the light and contrasted all the colors around it, which was hypnotic. I was hooked.
I began experimenting with tar in the can (roof coating). It took me nearly 2 years to figure out how to use and stabilize the tar with a coating. For the last 20-plus years, I have painted on reclaimed panels or wood. The panels consist mostly of old hollow-core closet doors that have been discarded. The transformation of materials that have a history is important to my creative process. Letting the materials speak might sound strange to some, but when I find an interesting damaged panel, I cut off the bad parts and challenge myself to work with what is left. Color and geometric design are foremost in my work, along with the earthy strangeness of tar. The paintings I produce are all about quiet meditation as I follow in the footprints of Mark Rothko, Richard Diebenkorn, and other painters who believed in the power of color as a spiritual journey.
My humble beginnings of being the quiet child watching the grownups work has come full circle as the early craftwork continues to influence the fine art I make today.

My work continues to evolve, and my clients can keep up with it through my Facebook page and website. I, like most artists I know, would prefer to make art and not worry about the marketing side of the business, but one hand feeds the other. I continue to exhibit regularly in galleries and work directly with local designers. Knowing someone appreciates your work enough to buy it is always a great feeling. One can only hope it isn’t because it matches the sofa and drapes but speaks to the individual on some level.

What can society do to ensure an environment that’s helpful to artists and creatives?

I believe creatives, particularly visual artists, will always struggle to garner attention in any human ecosystem where high-energy entertainment is worshipped. I hate to say it, but how can a quiet abstract painting in cadmium red begin to compete with a violin concerto, Taylor Swift, or a hip-hop artist expressing his views on the lows of society? It can’t. Then there is the sports phenomenon. How the human race has evolved to spend their hard-earned money watching overpaid athletes chase a ball is so beyond me. I am not bitter because I let people be people. I will do what I have always done: shake my head and return to my studio to work. I would like to see a society that learns to appreciate the visual arts alongside the other art forms and gets excited by new and innovative individuals across the board. This will only happen through the educational process. Something that shouldn’t seem far-fetched, yet with what we see happening in Washington and elsewhere, it will take some time and a lot of effort.

For you, what’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative?

The most rewarding aspect of being a visual artist is seeing your work go home with a patron who genuinely seems excited to own something you created. I really don’t know how much better it can get than that. We all want to be appreciated for who we are; art is, after all, an extension of the creator.

Contact Info:

• Website: www.marcologsdon.com
• Facebook: www.facebook.com/marcologsdonart/

Image Credits
All Artwork Photography by MS Rezny. Lexington, KY