The Poor Patron - Meowchelangelo's David by Chloe Wilson

The Poor Patron - Meowchelangelo's David by Chloe Wilson

25.00

The Poor Patron is a project meant to loosen the everyday strictures of the client/artist relationship. The artist is welcomed to create work based on any MarninSaylor themes or imagery with no creative input, due within a "when it's done" deadline.

We are pleased to offer prints of our Poor Patron collaborations. This is the thirteenth in the series, titled Meowchelangelo's David by California artist Chloe Wilson. This poster will teach you all about the history of the remarkable sculpture and the famed Pizza Bagel Cat artist who created it!

This art is printed on high-quality, heavyweight, matte, archival paper, and measures 13"x19". Sold unframed, shipped rolled. Half the proceeds from the sale of these prints go directly to the artist.

Be sure to read our interview with Chloe below.

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There are some people out there who just need to create. They need to make. To share. To show. To unburden themselves of something, bad or good, and lay it all out in front of them for the world to see, judge, take, love, whatever. California-based artist Chloe Wilson is certainly one of those. Her works span a rich spectrum of media - ceramics, pen drawings, paintings, and small publications. Throughout all of them is an honestness and earnestness, a lifting of the veil of the human experience to show what we keep inside or place carefully behind us. Though often melancholy there is also a vibrancy and humor to be found in her work, and in that space she has beautifully bridged the gap into the land of Pastry Pets. We're proud to present her gorgeous, charming, and informative poster - 'Meowchelangelo's David'.

Alright, let's just get this out of the way right now because we're dying to know - what is up with this The Birds project?! We've seen so many pictures of the lil' guys on your Instagram and we have to know why! Why ceramic owls? Why so many ceramic owls? Why so many incredibly cute ceramic owls?

I wish I even knew! Why would anybody make a thousand ceramic owls?? It’s definitely a project that I created meaning for as I was making it, but then once I showed it I was just like, oh, yeah, no. None of that matters. All that matters is - why does this even exist? It’s so cute and terrifying and just weird? But also adorable?...

This is why huge amounts of anything are magical.

In addition to ceramics you also work in acrylic paint and pen and ink. What's the aesthetic or subject matter that ties these mediums together, and how does your work in one inform or influence your work in the others?

The short answer is - all of my work originates in my mind, and comes out into the world through my hands!

The long answer is that yes - there is definitely a lot of cross-pollination of ideas and techniques, and specific concepts and imagery show up again and again in various iterations. But it’s hard to see those through-lines until after the fact. I think my drawings and ceramics are linked strongly by their scale, palette, and aesthetic (smaller, black and white, minimalist - respectively). My paintings are influenced a lot by the practice of drawing and sculpting but I don’t think it shows as much. Drawing gives you practice balancing compositions. And sculpting gives you practice making matter – which is useful when you’re trying to depict physical substance with color. The cool thing about working in a variety of mediums is that each practice has different things to teach you, and each offers new possibilities of expression.

We're really interested in one of your zines - Perpul Flower Black - in which you explore and re-draw art you made as a child. As someone who has seemingly been making and creating for most of your life, did that project give you any insight into your genesis as an artist? What connection did you find between your work then and your work now?

Yeah! I think the thing that was interesting to me about that project was just the way that re-making those drawings, and re-writing those words automatically means something different now than it did then. Like for example, there’s one drawing I did as a kid of a monster with text that reads, “monster god”. It automatically has different connotations coming from me now. And that’s the whole thing - a lot of art is just about putting a frame around ordinary stuff. It’s about re-contextualizing. It’s about showing people the things they see all the time but never look at, like the whole thing of signing a urinal and putting it in a museum. So yeah, I don’t know that I found many connections between what I was making then and what I make now – except for the triangle person. I totally draw tons of triangles now.

What does the future hold for you and your work, or where do you hope it leads you next?

Right now I’m working on paintings for two different shows this winter, and then drawings for a collaborative zine with Little Paper Press!

Can you tell us a funny or weird story about a situation you've found yourself in because of your art or creativity in general?

One time in college I screen-printed, sewed, stuffed and assembled fifty five plush hamburgers (buns, lettuce, tomatoes, and cheese)! I started with the lettuce and was originally going to make one hundred, but the prints soon covered all the surfaces of both rooms of the print lab and I started to have an anxiety attack so I just stopped at fifty five.

The project had a lot to do with the reverse culture shock I went through after coming back from living in Spain for a year. It seemed like everywhere I went all I saw were hamburgers. In restaurants! On TV! Printed on the sides of semi-trucks! I got this job working at the school cafeteria, and I’d cook cases and cases of hamburger patties, just lining up like thirty on the grill at a time. That job was my first exposure to mass production, and is probably responsible in part for my curiosity about excessive amounts of stuff (like, for example, tiny ceramic owls).

But anyway, my mom told me recently that every time we’d talk she’d ask what I was doing and I’d say, “Oh I’m sewing the tomatoes”, or “I’m just working on the burgers”. It took six months for me to finish all of them! And once I finished I just piled them all on my bed and lay on top of them, because I’d already graduated by then and didn’t know what else to do with them. It was kind of great.

See more of Chloe's work on her website.

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