(Photo: Larry Lytle)

Thirty years ago I chipped away in the badlands of Orange County’s suburban outback. Flattened by roving backhoes and moto-graders, it was in the midst of this sun-bleached terrain that I hoped to unearth prehistoric specimens of some unimaginable importance. At a nascent age I was fascinated with the origins of life and the mysteries of evolution, and while these early forays may not have uncovered any fossils, they made a significant impact on my artistic explorations.

Over the past several years I have developed a body of work that seeks to generate a dialogue between art and science.  While this subject may not be uncommon, the dialogue I have generated, as well as the resulting artworks are far from conventional.  At a core level, my work addresses the nature of colonized space – orders that have come undone, as well as orders that have been artificially manufactured (or manu-fractured) with the passage of time.

The goal in this work is to provide a hybrid glimpse that directly juxtaposes both natural and unnatural histories.  While the larger works evoke the grand scale and tradition of natural history museum dioramas, smaller intricately rendered pieces reflect 18th Century desires to chronicle the known world.  Unlike typical museum settings which strive to portray strict empirical evidence, my work uses contemporary as well as antiquated scientific research, often sourced from outdated textbooks and mid-20th Century “pulp science” pocketbooks and paperbacks.  There was a time, not that long ago, when scientific language retained a poetic side – this is the terrain I’ve attempted to re-inhabit. 

The resulting artworks contain elements that are cobbled together as a sort of bricolage.  In this sense, it is typical to find the conflation of otherwise mundane objects exalted in museum-like settings – hence handheld “Dustbuster” vacuums “bust dust” alongside shattered prehistoric skeletons, “Igloo” coolers rain down with ash and lava from prehistoric volcanoes, and plastic garden squirrels struggle to escape from an oozing “nacho cheese” tar pit.

In this work, the prehistoric and the present – the natural and the unnatural – have become one.  The results are unfiltered.  At times the superimposed and mismatched elements reach a fervent pitch, and the effect is reminiscent of misaligned transparencies or even vandalized textbooks.  There is a nod to the erratic displays of pre-Enlightenment curiosity cabinets, colonialism and manifest destiny, but all of this is wrapped inside the veneer of a “California-history-meets-Home-Depot” aesthetic.  The Dadaists and Surrealists are present here, even Charles and Ray Eames, but supplemental scientific, biological, and environmental concerns are also integral in these efforts to “reverse engineer” nature.  Ultimately, this work points to a broader intersection of culture and science, while attempting to re-instill a sense of mystery and wonder to our world.