We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Patrick Adams. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Patrick below.

Patrick, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. We’d love to hear about when you first realized that you wanted to pursue a creative path professionally.

I’ve made art since I was very young. I never really thought about art as a profession–it was simply who I was and what I did. I suppose it was in college that I first had a conscious thought about art as a career. I didn’t consider having a back-up plan.

As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?

I grew up in southwestern Minnesota, very far from any art or culture. I was known as “the artist” from a very young age. I suppose that means that others, my parents included, saw some talent and promise in what I did. I was always encouraged in my creative pursuits in art and music, eventually going to college on an art and a music scholarship. At the time, I was equally interested in both areas of study, but eventually visual art won out. I was incredibly fortunate to have had very gifted and inspiring instructors, eventually attending graduate school at the University of Kentucky, in Lexington, KY, where I earned my Master of Fine Arts degree. I remained in Lexington with my wife and three children (all now grown with partners and children of their own).

My art career has certainly had its ups and downs, but overall has seen steady growth. It took nearly a decade out of graduate school to get really established as an artist with good gallery representation. It was with my entry into the Chicago art scene in 2000 that I entered a truly professional level in my career. From that time to the present, my paintings have been primarily large-scale, abstract works. I’ve always sold work to individuals, but over time, an increasing number of my paintings go to corporate clients. About eight years ago my paintings shifted from having the landscape as a primary subject to fully non-representational paintings. Changing direction once you’ve established yourself as an artist is always a very risky thing to do. I really didn’t know if my galleries would like the new work, or if anyone would buy it. Thankfully, it was well received by both the galleries and their clients. I’m always challenging myself in my painting practice and the work continues to evolve and change. Change is risky, but if I lose interest in what I’m doing, then, for me, there’s no reason to keep doing it. People always ask me what inspires me, and I have to answer that it’s really the work itself. My inspiration comes in the doing, not the thinking. Getting my hands on the material, getting the paint on my hands, is what keeps me going. Genius is energy. To maintain the energy, the inspiration, you have to love what you do.

Alright – so here’s a fun one. What do you think about NFTs?

My thoughts are not so much about NFTs in particular, but the growing reach of digital space and AI in general. This is an emerging field with great potential for both progress and pitfalls. I feel that much of the hype around AI is a little premature and overblown, but it will certainly evolve over time. The connection of what I do to an NFT is that both things claim to be unique and unreproducible (non-fungible). But what do we mean by this? The paintings I produce are certainly unique, but they are unique in a way that any digital file is not. They are unique not only as an image, but as an ontological ‘thing’ in the world. They have a material history that no one, myself included, is able to replicate. My paintings (and most original paintings) have a very present human hand in them. It is precisely this quality of ‘touch’ that sets them apart. Real artworks are perfectly imperfect–that’s why they are exciting and engaging in the same way a live musical performance is more exciting than a recording. But, you ask, Couldn’t the surface of a van Gogh be digitally mapped and reproduced? Wouldn’t this copy be visually indistinguishable from the original? Perhaps, but not likely. It would still not possess the original’s material history, it’s ontological reality. I am not arguing that digital things have no value–they certainly do. But they are a different kind of thing with a value that, at times, may overlap with my work, but can’t replace it.

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

Most people, I’ve found, have very romanticized notions of what being an artist means. It’s really just a lot of hard work and frustration, punctuated by a few moments of elation. But those moments are worth it. Painting, for me, is rewarding precisely because it’s impossible. There is no end to the trajectory of evolving and learning. I can always count on it challenging me. I walk into my studio each day with more than a little trepidation about how I will react to the previous day’s work. I try not to get discouraged–artistic slumps can go on for days, weeks, or months. But I know that persistence and determination will eventually pull me through, and a reasonably decent painting will emerge. Then I’m on to the next painting and the process begins again.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.patrickadamsart.com