“Things are almost bad enough to have a party.”
~ Judd Nelson, The Billionaire Boys’ Club
I dunno about you, but I am having the strangest damn year. As you may know, I work as both an artist and a graphic designer, and having the two revenue streams is really helpful in these dark and troubled times.
This year, though, everything seems to be… off.
Art is selling much better than usual, and January is particular was much busier than in any previous year. Which is weird, but definitely good – because graphic design work has been non-existent (and that’s coming on the heels of a year as financially and emotionally ruinous as 2016).
My solution to such issues is probably obvious by now: when in doubt, throw an art sale. Then I can clear some much-needed space out, AND help pay the rent.
Speaking of which, I’ve been doing 2-day flash sales over the past week. Responses have been good, so I decided on Friday to cap it all off with a BIG sale. Have a look below at the latest offerings. There might just be something there you want, and of course there’s the added bonus of supporting local art (or if you’re not in Vancouver, think “independent art” instead).
And by all means, tell your friends. Spread the word. Help a brother out.
Also, I’ve finished a number of commissions lately, so if you’re thinking about having a custom piece of your own painted, now is exactly the right time.
Sale ends Sunday night, April 30th.
(Disclaimer: prices do not include shipping.)
When I was growing up, my dad and I used to go to movies together all the time. One night he asked if I wanted to go see something called “Star Wars”. Neither of us knew anything about it, but we decided to give it a shot anyway. The next day at school, kids were absolutely losing their shit over the movie. There just weren’t any other topics.
Not long afterwards, I read an interview with George Lucas in Starlog magazine. All I remember from it now is that Lucas intended to make three trilogies, and only R2D2 and C3P0 would appear in all nine movies.
So in effect, it was their story.
Many (and I mean, many) years and thousands of miles later, I decided on a whim to do a pair of paintings featuring the two droids, just to have a couple of large-format showpieces on hand. I didn’t know at the time that we were on the verge of a brand new installment in the Star Wars franchise; I just wanted to paint some robots. Once that started, I realized I wanted to paint stormtroopers. And landspeeders. And starfighters.
It all grew pretty organically from there, till I had the makings of a new brand show on my hands. And that show happened the night of Thursday, December 17th, at EXP Restaurant.
(EXP, for the record, is one of my favourite venues. Excellent lighting (plus the option of having a slideshow), a crowd that really gets my art, great food… you get the idea.)
The day of the 17th, it seemed like everything was taking much longer than it should have – packing up to go to EXP, hanging the paintings, processing the files for the slide show, getting home and back to shower and change. Nothing went wrong per se; time just wasn’t on my side. Of course it was raining, so there were transit delays. By the time things really kicked off, I was a bundle of nerves. But that’s usually the case. And once I’m at the venue for the night and the paintings are up, the pressure generally eases off – particularly once there’s a drink in my hand.
I got back to EXP around 6:00PM. People were already waiting patiently, despite my tardiness.
Looking back on it now, the rest of the night feels like a movie montage or highlight reel. People just kept showing up, and for the first few hours it was tricky to actually have a lengthy conversation with anybody. Staying focused in these situations is a challenge; there’s just so much to take in. I’m sure there must be someone I didn’t get to talk to at all – and if that’s the case, you have my heartfelt apologies.
(Once again I never thought to take photos of the festivities. So what you’re seeing in the slideshow at the top of the page is more a means of summing up the process of putting the show together.)
I got to meet a bunch of new people, which for me is the best part of putting on an art show. I’m a social creature by nature, and new friendships mean a lot.
Less than a week later, I finally saw The Force Awakens, which brought it all home for me. The first thing I realized was that every theory I’d read or formulated prior to seeing the movie was bullshit. And I’ve never had another movie push so many of my buttons so well. On the way home I wanted to walk up to random people on the street and scream “Star Wars!!” It’s a true love letter to the original trilogy (and to the collective childhoods of the original viewers).
Which, of course, was my intent with Han Shot First. I can’t begin to explain how much those movies shaped my consciousness, so it was nice to work some of that out artistically.
Now it’s a brand new year, and I’m planning to see The Force Awakens again soon. You should, too.
And without further ado, I’d like to thank some people:
My dad, Frank Ricketts, who started the ball rolling way back when.
Brian Vidovic, for providing the venue and generally being a prince among men. And the staff at EXP for their heroic efforts (especially with regards to the Commander Shepherd’s Pie).
Annie Friesen, the Queen of Buttons.
Charlie Ritchie, who provided some much-needed and unintentional inspiration.
Holly Morrison, for her continued support of my art career.
Opus Art Supplies, Michael’s, and DeSerres.
Meghan Kilner, Edi Mange, Lori Kittelberg, Barbara Sweeney, Alec Von, Michelle Bischoff, Chris (whose last name I never got. I hope your friend liked the painting), Kyle Reid, Marga Lopez, Shamil Meghji, and Dawn Danger.
Rachael Taylor, for representing the Empire.
Jay Holtslander, who came to the show twice in the same evening.
Cailan Fox, who has now attended four consecutive art shows – no small feat when you’re barely a year old. But then, he attended his first show while he was still in the womb, so he had a slight headstart.
Michael Fashionista and Dani Heavenor, who went the extra mile and came to the show in costume.
Cristina Weir, who arrived directly from the seven-movie Star Wars marathon, and then went for pulled pork poutine with me afterwards.
Jack MacKinnon, Daniel Heim, and Steve Robinson, fellow veterans of many a battle.
Adam Carlson, Rachael’s mom, Andrew Wong, George Smeltzer, Donna & Dan Fox, Alan Chuck, Shona Massey, Laurie Casey, Salisha Miles, Chris, Jonathan Franco, and Mark Sweeney.
Jill Sinclair, Alison Tedford, and Todd Hancock for the free publicity.
My hat is off to every one of you.
So there I was one Friday night, wondering what to do with myself. And I thought, hmmm, how ’bout an art show?
All I’d need is a few paintings, a lot of cool people, and a big room with booze, a pool table, and a 12-foot leather couch.
Also, a killer soundtrack. ‘Cause that’s a must for any Friday night.
Okay, so that’s not exactly how it went. The true story is about friendship, paint, booze, and serendipity.
One night back in March, Ned Tobin came by with a bottle of wine and some ideas about ink and watercolour. We’d never hung out and painted together before, so we figured it was high time to try. With no specific agenda in mind, he started several of his animal paintings, and I did two quick paintings – a tree frog, and then, somewhat randomly, a koi.
I’ve dabbled in watercolours over the years, but primarily just to create backgrounds for my digital illustrations. And that’s something I’ve done a lot less of since the metalflake paintings took over my life. So I’ve gotten used to a fairly lengthy process for painting, as layers are applied that often need several days to dry. Even longer in the winter months, when the weather is cold and the humidity is high.
These two new pieces were a revelation. I could easily take one from rough concept to finished piece in a single night.
Also, the response was universally positive, which gave me the idea that maybe I could do more of these. And koi are pretty exciting visually, unlike some animals. To me they look like custom cars in a way – wild colours and pattern, and shiny, silvery surfaces. I painted a few more, and a few more after that. Eventually I started wondering if this was a potential art show. Once I decided that it was, the whole process just flowed. Which could be construed as some sort of metaphor for the actual painting process, if you’re a fan of symbolism.
But all that is just backstory. What happened on May 23rd is what really matters.
Many people showed up, and frequently with friends in tow – this was easily the biggest turnout since Hot Pink. I met a LOT of new people, which is always a pleasure. It’s great to see first-timers at a show, especially when there are so many of them. In that respect, this was probably my most successful show to date (obviously I love seeing old friends as well, and there were plenty of those around. There’s a core group of loyal people who come to almost every show and do so much to support my art).
On a related note, this was the first time I had family on hand for a show, and I can’t even begin to explain how much that meant to me. My aunt and uncle even bought a painting.
Speaking of which, I laid the paintings out in chronological order, and it was cool to see how my process had developed over the two months I spent creating the koi. Even though the show is over, I still haven’t entirely stopped painting them. I’ve already completed one new commission, and there’s another waiting in the wings (there are also plans afoot for a piece inspired by the fish in Fantasia). I’ll definitely do more watercolour shows in the future, too. My thought at the moment is that I could have one watercolour exhibition and three metalflake ones each year.
We’ll see what happens, of course. As an artist I try to be open to new directions and opportunities. But overall this was a very, very positive experience, and I’m not just saying that because people plied me with alcohol.
Damn, that was a lot of wordiness. How ’bout a few photos?
Now come the liner notes. First off I’d like to thank Ned Tobin, Amanda West (who was kind enough to hook me up with the venue), John Watson, Annie Friesen, Mike Watson, Jill Sinclair, and Cathy Browne for their contributions. Each of you was crucial to this show, and my hat is off to you.
Next are the patrons, for putting their money where their mouths are: Aida King, Steve Cavers, Donna-Jay Crowe, Kirsten McKenzie, Evan Downie, Jenn Ready, Kathy & Bill Taylor, Jeff Hornby & Cass Wilson, Jewel Staite, Briar Sexton, Nicola Rueschmann, Krista Falconer, Shannon Nilson, Lori Kittelberg & George Smeltzer, Kyle Reid, Kayla, and Samantha Gilmour (incidentally, there are still a handful of paintings available. More details here).
Generally I manage to keep a list of everybody who attends the shows, but this time it got a bit overwhelming at times. So if you were there and I forgot to mention you… well, it’s just an oversight on my part (but drop me a line and I’ll update this post ASAP). Here’s everyone I haven’t already mentioned:
Cindy Busby, Kirst Ostapowich, Alan C., Chris Schneider, Don Falconer, Meghan Kilner, Shaun, Melissa Jones, Matt Bosch, Craig, Chris, Paul Erwin & Alison Tedford, Jason, Jenn Derksen, Katie Moran, Adam Bradley Carlson IV, Lindsay Bayne, Pardeep, Ian MacKinnon, Jill Plotnikoff, Steve Kinsey, Keith Murray, Brad Presta, Cristina Weir, Mila Katana, Jay Holtslander, Bria Hunter… and a handful of other new friends whose names escape me at the moment.
And finally, from the Department of Advice and Support: Jaime Lee Purgavie, Blair Pritchett, Tess McCann, Katherine Houston, Kate MacDonald, and Opus Art Supplies on Granville Island.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
P.S. Photos by Jill Sinclair, Cathy Browne, Jewel Staite, Kayla, Jeff Hornby, Krista Falconer (plus a couple of my own).
Expect a full report on the show in a few days, once I get all the photos and info sorted. But in the meantime, a few people have been asking if there are any pieces still available.
And the answer is, yes:
Each piece is 8×10 inches on 140-lb. coldpress paper. The price is $70 each, unframed. If you’ve got your eye on one, drop me a line at email@example.com