Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Timothy Hutto. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.
Alright, Timothy thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. It’s always helpful to hear about times when someone’s had to take a risk – how did they think through the decision, why did they take the risk, and what ended up happening. We’d love to hear about a risk you’ve taken.
Tell you a story about taking a risk because I love taking a risk. There is no way to find the edge unless you are pushing the boundaries by taking risks. The way I think about it, is there something worth risking? Yes, do that thing because you’re investing something more than time, more than craft, more than art… Freedom. That is where we push the edge of the bubble outward, ever so slight, as artists that choose the streets as our gallery.
On a warm night in NYC I got the crazy idea that I wanted to get up a big 7’x5′ “POLITICS” poster on the Williamsburg Bridge. One of the homies was telling me the tale about how he made the mission happen a few weeks ago. I was fixated on the space. Fantasies of the sun rising over the river, commuters seeing my dinosaurs walking blindly forward, POLITICS a fixture for the years to come.
I let my guy know that I was with the shits and was ready to hit the bridge. Three am in NYC, it is a street lamp yellow inside of the art car we took to the base of the bridge. I hastily thew one large poster in 4 pieces, a double gallon ziplock full of glue and carwash brush on a 2′ pole into my bag and under my arm. My guy was getting himself hyped by talking about the past. I was naive, courageous, stupid. Another silly combination that makes us move different as artist sur le rue.
Walking up the pedestrian approach on the south side you come to a point where the highway traffic is at eye level. The real life shit, heavy consequence at high speed. Headlights speed past as my partner quickly scales the safety fence separating. My palms sweat. I’m having second thoughts. Am I really about this? I put one hand on the fence. One foot, pull myself up and I can’t do it. I’ve got the x-tendo pole tucked under my arm and it’s keeping me on the ground. Panic, I try two more times. I’m physically incapable. The quick thinking accomplice grabs the pole from me and I’m over.
Slow is smooth, smooth is fast as I look down through the gap between the highway barrier to the earth. A long gaze towards the soil of Brooklyn and the illusion of safety we take for granted down there. My guy touches my shoulder points toward the other side of the highway and says “I’ll tell you when to go.” In a breath we’re rebel poultry off to the other side, down a ladder and onto a new fraught scenario.
It’s a terrifying beauty above BK, below the bridge. There is an illusion of safety standing on the perforated metal walkway. The darkness is full of unknown dangers beyond the omni present height. Gripped and shaken with a deep acrophobia I press ever forward I follow in the footfalls of my Virgil guide. He taps on makeshift patches on the metal grid, I dare not. There is no hand rail and every step feels like a leap of faith. Slowly me make our way along the bridge to the spot. Slowly the fear flows out and the beauty of the situation ebbs in. I enjoy a moment looking at the skyline through a new perspective before a new horror shakes me back to the heaviness of my situation.
The J train goes from Brooklyn to Manhattan over the Williamburg bridge. The subway train weighs 85,000 pounds and travels across the bridge at 25 miles per hour. If you watch it from afar you see it dip and bounce. Standing underneath it violently shakes up and down. I’m frozen. I think about the cold moving water 135′ below me. I think about the recent past before it got so heavy. I think about breathing… Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. I see a lantern of hope come from my friends phone broadcasting this tale of risk on IG Live. Funny things happen in these situations. Time stretches and snaps back. I want to stop, I want to go home but I walk forward. Forward we go towards the spot. Up and over obstacles. Under the violent elephant trumpet of the MTA train we move in silence.
Finally we are in position. In order to get your piece up you are required to stand outside a thin safety cable on the exterior of the interior span where the train runs. Between that small cable and the inches of overhanging grate and the highway below is a gap filled with the dark ink of possibility. The bridge rolls under the steel wheels again and brings me to my knees. I begin to get the artwork out of my sack and realize I’m unprepared. I need two hands to handle the wide poster pieces, I need three points of contact with the bridge. I can’t put up my poster and survive. I had found the edge, pushed the boundaries and didn’t get to leave my mark.
I was lucky to be a tourist in this situation and get out without consequence. Often I think about how we looked to the regular people in the diner that morning. The weight of the night was mismatched across the booth. I explored and endured but breakfast didn’t taste of victory at sea. Instead I sat across from my friend after being changed from the heaviness of the night. Feeling safe back on firm earth but knowing that this was a high water moment that I failed to leave my mark on.
Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.
My name is Timothy Hutto aka Timmy Ache. I’m a US Navy veteran, classically trained photographer and artist that wheat-pastes in NYC.
I served honorably in the military from 9/11 to the assassination of Osama Bin Laden. I had a cool job as an enlisted naval aircrewman, that means I was an aviator that got to ride but didn’t drive the plane. At some point I got an inner ear injury that ended my career but in hindsight it was a great change. The military took its toll on me but it paid for me to attend a fancy art school (The Savannah College of Art Design).
While I was at art school a professor told me “If I wanted to catch elephants. I need to go to where the elephants are. There are no elephants in Savannah.” So as soon as I graduated, I sold my car, packed up a U-haul and moved to New York City. I started the beautiful struggle that is being an artist in the city.
Professionally I work as a still life photographer that mainly shoots arts and antiquities. What sets me apart from others is I love to photograph the most technically difficult objects and generally have a good time while doing it. I truly enjoy photographing the hard mode stuff. I’m proud of the professional achievements ( publications, a handful of awards & exhibitions) and client list (Christie’s, Barneys, Oscar De la Renta…) but the main thing I want the world to know about me is that I would rather make something cool and beautiful than make money. We can make more money tomorrow.
During the 2020 COVID 19 outbreak in NYC I started putting posters on the street. A simple tricolor dinosaur composition with the word “POLITICS” on it. It grew from there, more posters, different words, new cities, a peer group… I finally found my people. As an artist I finally sold artwork. It was nice to have a secret, if that makes sense. Eventually, I put up enough of these posters that the city of New York arrested me for it. I want people to know that I’ve paid some dues for art. These types of things are what I think makes artists and what they create unique and interesting. No one is well behaved and simultaneously avant garde.
How can we best help foster a strong, supportive environment for artists and creatives?
In my view society can best support artists by buying art from living artists. Every dollar u spend on artwork from living artists gives them resources to create their next work. Maybe they’ll make a masterpiece because of your support.
What’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative in your experience?
For me the most rewarding part of being an artist / creative is watching someone observe my artwork in public. There is an intoxicating feeling to observing someone pause, acknowledge and move on with the day.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.TimothyHutto.com
- Instagram: @Timmy_Ache
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/timothyhutto
- Youtube: https://youtu.be/fXGAbxuMQvE?si=re4xfzLDgMi4f5bd
