
Photograph by Thomas Crone
On Friday, February 7, artist Joe Neaf will offer a show of monoprints at Blue Orange, A One Umbrella Gallery (5464 Gravois). That venue features eclectic storefront space in a sector of South St. Louis that isn’t necessarily an arts haven, which, in some respects, adds to its appeal. One Umbrella is the skate shop, frame shop, e-cig shop. An employee of it has a vanity gallery off the back room; it bends around and opens to Bates, while the main store is on Gravois.
The exhibit, dubbed “Devil Cupid," begins at 7 p.m., and is free. Neaf’s artist statement for the show offers insight into both process and finished piece: “When making a monoprint, the image is formed on a hard surface, and then pulled up on paper as a print. This makes for an exciting moment when exactly what will be printed is unknown. This technique seems very well-suited to exploring images associated with delirium, and the chaotic results are open to interpretation by the viewer, much like a Rorschach ink-blot test.”
We were able to touch base with Neaf prior to the event, as part of our every-other-Thursday series of conversations with visual artists, mulling over the same seven questions. Here’s how our digital chat went.
Art school? Self-taught? Some variety of both? Or none of the above?
I spent a long time piecing together an art education, a few classes at a time here and there, and a lot of independent study. My first classes were at the St. Louis Art Museum, not for credit but very good classes. At that time, I was working as a paralegal and really only interested in art as a stress reliever, but I enjoyed my classes so much that I signed up for more with St. Louis Community College, and went on to study at Webster University. Shortly after, I began studying art I got my first art gig. It was hand-painting details on lamps for a local company. It was great practice, particularly since I didn't have to compose or design what I was painting so I could put my full attention to practicing the craft of painting. It was a fun gig, and in the course of it I worked on somewhere around 10,000 lamps that are out in the world somewhere. I like getting paid to practice, and I've worked on gigs doing things like face painting, painting murals, drawing cartoons, and photographing golf tournaments. I also kept taking classes, and at this point I have about twice as many applied art credits as I would need for a bachelor’s degree. Maybe one of these days I'll take a semester off from work and finish up a degree.
Regarding your creative habits, are you a night owl or an early bird?
That's kind of hard to say. I don't keep a very regular sleep schedule, and I work all hours. My approach to a workday basically goes like this: staging the work area with tools and materials, then warming up by reviewing my design plans and doing test sketches. I want to achieve a state of mind where I'm focused, energized, and also relaxed. While I can maintain that, I'm usually rewarded with good work. I'll work like that until my enthusiasm or energy wane, then switch to something less demanding for the end of the day; cleaning brushes, putting things away, or sweeping up.
In basic terms, can you describe the setup and vibe of your studio?
It's reasonably comfortable. I like to play music and have snacks and a drink on hand. When I take breaks and step off of what I'm working on, I'm often just staring right at it, and those are frequently the moments where I get my best ideas. So, naturally, I don't want to go too far away to get food or a beverage. The studio is broken up into workstations for various tasks, and larger open areas for bigger jobs. In some ways it's set up like a manufacturing facility. Producing art is a strange job in that it involves all the logistical problems of manufacturing combined with the challenges of being an entertainer.
What are your thoughts on crowdfunding for the arts? And is that option any part of your own approach to creating and selling work?
I really don't know enough about it yet, but it does sound like a very interesting development for entrepreneurs and artists. I understand that some of the biggest projects, such as large-scale outdoor installation pieces, are funded by pre-selling drawings and designs.
Do you have a dream project that lacks only funding (or time)?
I have a little list! I love large-scale concrete sculptures. I've built some, and I'm very interested in doing more of that. At perhaps the other end of the spectrum as far as weight and permanence, I'm fascinated by clouds, and I'm interested in projecting images onto the wintertime steam clouds of a beloved local brewer. That would mostly be about negotiating permission. I also have two projects that are high heat problems. The first of those involves a design I've been tinkering with for a reflective dish to focus sunlight on a solar kiln to melt aluminum into sculptures. It could even melt glass if I can get the heat right. Possibly too fantastical is the last one that would briefly employ far higher heat. It's based on scientific research into controlling lightning. I would like to use lightning strikes to fuse material, man-made fulgurites, but I don't want to die doing it.
To what degree do you enjoy having public contact, whether that means selling your work at a fair, a gallery opening, etc.?
Making art is essentially a method of communication, and it is satisfying to find out how the work is received, particularly since the feedback I've gotten has been quite positive for the most part, even when I have made confrontational pieces or addressed difficult topics. It takes a unique skill set to be an artist. On one hand, it requires the ability to work, usually alone, executing technique and skill in a very focused way. On the other hand, for that work to have any meaning, it must be presented, and that means putting your hand out and meeting and talking to perhaps hundreds of people on a good opening night about the work. I feel that both of those hats, the technician hat and the communicator hat, must fit well for me to function as an artist.
What other St. Louis artists inspire or motivate you?
I know a lot of great people in the arts in St. Louis, and the joy I take from conversing with, and interacting with, those people is my biggest motivator to work in art. Some St. Louis artists impress me very much with their ability as organizers. They put together events. They form and maintain groups. We should all remember how important that is. Most very successful artists, figures from art history, artists you can name, you can generally also name a group they worked in. It’s critical. I have a particular enthusiasm for organizers and teachers above and beyond their artwork. That said, there are two categories of artist that I find particularly inspiring. First are the people who do the job, those who treat it like work, put in an eight-hour day, and produce shows every season. These people have convinced me that it is possible for artwork to support art as work, that by doing this an artist can generate the resources to put full-time into mastering one's craft, finding one's voice, and connecting with an audience. A second and frequently overlapping group are those people who do incandescently brilliant work, art objects that invoke the awe of an epiphany. Knowing these people, and knowing that they put their pants on one leg at a time just like I do, prods me to strive to do better work. If I start naming names I'd list 100 people and still miss a few, but I will mention Ernie Trova as an example of a local artist who did outstanding work. Trova committed his life day in, day out, every season, working to produce show after show after show. I met Trova far too briefly at a show late in his life that was a series of large-scale collages. He was jovial, and kind with his time. I've mentioned the awe of an epiphany, and this show completely changed my opinion of what is possible with collage work. The design work was magnificent, with an effortlessness that felt like a function of nature. I would think that being mentioned in art history texts during one's own lifetime is a confidence booster, but it really couldn't have happened to a nicer or more deserving guy.