Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Scott Howard. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.
Scott, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. Learning the craft is often a unique journey from every creative – we’d love to hear about your journey and if knowing what you know now, you would have done anything differently to speed up the learning process.
There’s really no substitute for just putting in that hard work, trial and error, making breakthroughs and making mistakes. I was very lucky to go to a high school that had art and graphic design classes, which led me to a design program in college. Then I took tons of classes in photography, video and installations, in addition to art history which taught me how to communicate through and interpret visual mediums. My luck continued when I got a design job not long after graduating, working for an American manga publisher. All day long I’d meticulously remove all of the original Japanese elements from each panel and try to figure out a way to make everything work in English. This seemed a bit tedious at the time, but it was a tremendous education in honing my attention to detail and learning how to create with pixels and texture, and I use those same techniques every day restoring the source materials in my work. Now I pull from all of these skills, whether I’m working on something for myself or for a client. It takes a long time to develop your eye as an artist, and that’s why I’m not extremely worried about A.I. completely replacing us, though that is its intended use. In the hands of someone who doesn’t know craft or composition, this generative stuff just looks totally awful. We could definitely argue about whether it looking awful even matters at this point, since pretty much every powerful corporation on Earth is counting on it to make them a ton of money. But there will always be people seeking to connect through genuine, human artistic expression.
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’m Scott Howard, and I’m a visual artist in New York City. I work in mixed media, combining photography, video, and archival pieces to deal with both cultural and personal history. I’ve cast a pretty wide net with my work over the past year. I completed a series titled “Western” which delves into American myths and tall tales by contrasting the ornate clothing from the rise of mainstream country & western music with photographs of real cowgirls from the era. I made another large series called “The Illumination of Dark Spaces” about the imposition of culture and religion upon the natural beauty of the world. It uses a lot of gorgeous color glass photography plates which are well over 100 years old at this point which were taken all over the Russian Empire before the fall of Nicholas II. I’m most proud of a massively-detailed piece called “McKinley In The Rainbow City” that recreates the 1901 Pan-American Exposition (essentially a World’s Fair). It was this really consequential kick-off to the 20th century where all of these important moments of history came together, culminating in Teddy Roosevelt becoming president when McKinley was assassinated. And I made some very political work like “Now More Than Ever” which documents Nixon’s landslide popularity before Watergate, all orbiting around this extraordinary photo of him embracing his ideological heir, Trump.
In addition to all of that, I’m very excited to share a piece I’ve been working on called “Movies of my Mind”, which is much more personal than what I typically make. I grew up as the only child of a single mom in a very small town with no other kids around, and movies were my window to the world. They showed me places and people and ideas I’d have no access to otherwise, they taught me taste and style. But they also skewed my perception in unrealistic ways, and I’ve been thinking lately that perhaps I was a bit too lost in that cinematic dreamworld and didn’t pay enough attention to the place I came from. That place, Effingham County, Georgia, is in the photos that comprise the background. They were taken 50 years before I was born but it didn’t look much different decades later when I was a teenager. It’s quite stark and bleak, but it’s inescapably a part of me. It’s been said many times before, but you often have to leave something behind to realize what made it special.
What’s a lesson you had to unlearn and what’s the backstory?
Growing up, I didn’t realize that every artist has a different path. I only saw artists in books, movies and magazines, so I never knew the reality of their lives and felt a massive wall between me and them. I honestly thought the only option was to be Jackson Pollock or something, surviving solely off of making earth-shattering work. They were like celebrities to me when really, this is a job, where you’ve got to put in the hours, constantly continue your education, and not be afraid to often waste your time and try things that aren’t going to work. And this probably isn’t your ONLY job. There are a lot of day jobs beyond stereotypes like actors waiting tables or working as baristas between gigs. I know brilliant painters who make pizzas or design logos at agencies. I know rock stars who work at PR firms or bartend. Even if you’re lucky enough to support yourself with your artistic skill, the chances that you’re putting food on your table with your most challenging, creative work are slim. Most of the greatest artists who ever lived up until 100 years ago or so spent all or most of their time painting for rich people and churches. All of this is probably obvious to a lot of people, but for a long time I naively looked past the struggle and saw only the image, which I didn’t measure up to. I think that’s the root of imposter syndrome for a lot of us who struggle with it. But I try to remind myself that ultimately in art, success exists only as the artist and viewer define it.
Do you think there is something that non-creatives might struggle to understand about your journey as a creative? Maybe you can shed some light?
When I graduated college, my cousin who was in medical school at the time came to my school’s art gallery. I walked over to him as he was staring at this abstract painting and he asked me, “How do you approach a piece of art like this?” Even this person who was so well-educated in many areas had zero knowledge about what to make of a non-representational painting. I think a lot of people are intimidated by art that doesn’t tell them what to think. When art is ambiguous, it’s usually not because the artist is trying to be deliberately evasive. In the case of something like “McKinley In The Rainbow City” which I was describing earlier, I thought this story was at its most fascinating not as a straightforward narrative written out, but as an illustration of an era that you can interpret in your own way. I want to introduce you to these characters, intrigue you, attempt to make my own statement, but more than anything, I’m inviting the viewer to bring themselves to the piece, to dig deeper, to learn something that maybe connects to their own history or view of the world. We’re losing experiences like that because art from high to low culture is as literal as it’s ever been in my lifetime. Personally, I’m only really moved when I have to put some work in with a piece. If it doesn’t leave room for me to grapple with it or engage with it, it’s just surface. I want to be challenged. I want to laugh or cry or get angry. I want something to think and talk about after I leave. That’s what makes a mark.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://scott-howard.com
- Instagram: https://instagram.com/scotthowardart
- Other: Email: [email protected]
Image Credits
Photo of the artist by Marisa Avelar, all images © Scott Howard