Q&A: Susanna Salk and Gary Komarin

March 19, 2009

SS: You talk about your work as being a series of interlocking pieces. How do you then

separate your continuous expression of creativity into separate frames?

GK: Well…that is true; I do consider all the paintings to be interconnected. I work on more than

one piece at a time and so I don't have that sense of separateness or apartness that some

artists or writers might have. As for 'separate frames' as you put it- each canvas is stretched

before I start and the physicality of separate canvases, each with its own 'drama; allows or

encourages a certain necessary separateness.

SS: You are so prolific. Is that as much about having good work habits as it is about being

blessed with a fruitful imagination?

GK: Yes...I'm quite lucky in this regard. Picasso was prolific--it was in his blood to paint all the

time. For me painting is like breathing but good work habits are equally important. A painter

must be in his studio. I think it was Woody Allen who said half the job is just 'showing up; and

artists who talk about painting but don't create the paintings, well, that has never been my

Route.

SS: Does your inspiration come from your subconscious or is it a manifestation of life's daily

minute and profundities?

GK: People often ask where my 'inspiration' comes from. I suppose it is a good question

when you are looking in from the outside, but it isn't something I think about. I do feel very

much like a sponge and that I've been taking things in since early childhood. These things

include a wide array of visual impressions, sensory impressions, and tactile impressions.

I think all people share this, although it is not discussed much, and that artists--whether

painters or poets or what have you- are perhaps more tuned into these things- to this kind of

information, and more finely calibrated as I see it...better able to 'access' these impressions

years later.

SS: You've been called a "Painter's Painter": is this true and what does this mean?

GK: A painter's painter is someone who uses paint freely, and who allows for a journey into the

unknown. It is all about listening to what the painting 'needs' and then paying attention to that.

A painter's painter does not try to jam things into place according to a rigid script. It is much

more about being open to the moment.

SS: You clearly love color but are not dictated by it. Tell me a little about its role in your work

and has it evolved since you started painting?

GK: There would seem to be more color or more intense color in my recent work, though

frankly I feel that I have very little to do with this. It could be an added sense of confidence and

a willingness to let the paintings be guided by color first and drawing second, whereas earlier

In my career there may have been a reverse process.

SS: How has painting in Litchfield County impacted your work?

GK: Although amazingly beautiful and bucolic - its rolling hills, ponds and babbling brooks - I

would not be fully sure how this is impacting my work as I don't work from notes or sketches

or any sort of program or body of ideas. And yet, everything goes into the mix, or the 'Komarin

primordial soup' as I call it, and invariably I'm guessing there may be connections. It is not for

me to calibrate however. That would fall into the hands of the art historians and critics.

SS: You work with non-art materials such as latex house paint and canvas tarps. Why is that

and how does it affect the outcome of your work?

GK: House paint comes in big juicy buckets and is a very liberating material. It allows me

to move freely through a painting without carefully guarding my materials. There is also the

attraction to non-fine art materials--working against the pedigree of good taste appeals to me

Pollock painted with car paint as did de Kooning, who even late into his career would paint on

newspaper. Picasso, as you may know, would paint on nearly any surface that came his way.

including his dinner plate, a scrap of plywood, etc. He would have painted on his dachshund

I am sure, had she sat still long enough. Re: tarps--these are the protective canvases that

house painters put on the floor while working, and they arrive with sewn seams joining

the various fragments together. These seams provide a good starting point, a ' flaw' in the

material, if you will, that appeals to me both metaphorically (we are all flawed) and creatively

as it provides me with a strong vertical or horizontal direction from which to proceed

SS: How much does spontaneity play a role in your painting and can you give an example?

GK: My work is almost entirely spontaneous. I don't like to know where I am going, especially

in the early stages of the paintings. All paintings begin with the stretched canvas placed on the

studio floor. This allows me to walk around the piece, with long handled brushes, and frees me

from issues of top/bottom, left/right, east/west, and anything else that can be limiting. After a

while I do hang the painting on a viewing wall and make necessary adjustments and allow for

drips to work their own special magic.

SS: How much thought do you give to a painting's title? Can you give us an example of a title

Genesis?

GK: The titles are kept in a 'title box' which is a small handmade box in which I keep scraps of

paper with bits of poetry, street names, odd thoughts, lines from books, etc., that I have come

across. When a painting is left alone (I don't like the term 'finished' as it is too confining) I allow

it to continue to change for some time after I put down my brush and the painting leaves the

studio. But after a piece is resolved I find the right title and there, a marriage of sorts between

painting and title. As for the genesis of a particular title: years ago when my son was in pre-

school he learned about maps and continents and had to do a drawing with crayon of South

America. When I walked into my son's room, this project was pinned to his wall above his bed.

I noticed that many of the countries were in the wrong place and in a few cases, the letters

were flipped and the words for curiously and innocently misspelled. But the whole drawing

was ever so charming and 'alive' and I told my son how very much I liked his drawing, only

"don't tell South America!' Moments later this struck me as a terrific title and I stored it away.

Months passed and I pulled that title for a painting going to a show in Switzerland.

SS: How has being a father of three impacted you as a painter?

GK: I have long been influenced by children's drawings, particularly in the early stages before

they worry about being good or getting it right. There is a huge amount of information and

energy and in terms of color, mark making, total freedom, etc., from which I have invariably

'drawn' over the years.

SS: How would you describe to a seven year old why you are a painter?

GK: I would say I paint because I can't imagine doing anything else. Follow your passions in

your life and stay with them.

SS: How important is it for your audience to understand your original intent when it comes to a painting?
GK: I work without original intent so I'm open to each person's interpretation and reaction to the work. 

SS: You've talked about the potential of an artist's work to become "rubbery" when stretched

over an extended period of time. Is such a thing preventable and does it concern you?

GK: Yes...I do think one has to stay on the 'edge' of something or the work can get tired or

rubbery. What this 'something' is more difficult to pinpoint or define in words. I think one

builds up an internal mechanism of critiquing-an inner dialogue or voice- and you must listen

to this voice as it will tell you if the work is drifting in the wrong direction. You cannot invariably

love everything you do. Most of my work is the by product of failure and one must be prepared

to fail and fail again. Some of my best paintings are those that failed the most miserably in

earlier stages.

SS: The sequestered, hermit artist you are not. You clearly thrive on interactions with people

and forging new connections. Tell me about how your life outside the studio impacts the one

within it?

GK: Quite true, I am not a hermit. I enjoy people, getting to know where they are coming

from, what makes them tick. And yet painting is invariably an isolating and solitary activity,

My life outside the studio consists of a great deal of travel.Zurich, London, Barcelona, Dubai,

Marrakech, Tokyo, Paris.these are all on the upcoming schedule or recent schedule, as well

as the much needed island trip to keep me near the ocean and its attendant rhythms. I like the

aliveness of meeting new people, and then bringing that energy back to the studio.

SS: Tell me about the Current Show?

GK: This Show in Kent Connecticut will be my first major one man show in Connecticut since

moving out here in May of last year. The title is: " I Can Sing a Song in Your Eyes"

The title comes from a poem by Walt Whitman written in the 19th century. I came upon this

title quite by chance, (which means ' not ' by chance at all) while browsing a few books in the corner

of the library of a local Inn that I frequent. This volume nearly fell off the shelf into my hands.

When I opened to the last page I found in small scrawled letters this very line from Whitman.

It resonated with me immediately.