Brad Davis: Uplifting the Overlooked
A resident of Cincinnati, Ohio, Brad Davis' paintings aim to uncover and uplift the discarded and overlooked within his urban surroundings. The city's rich history and character manifest themselves in the architecture and inhabitants of his daily life, thus providing the platform for his work. Layers of urban decay give insight into the city's past and work to form a residue of existence that can often mimic the painting process. Through sensitive and careful construction, he utilizes methods of traditional oil painting and an aesthetic pulling from American painters such as John Sloan, Edward Hopper, and Thomas Eakins.
How did your creative journey begin?
I was born in 1993 in Cincinnati and raised in the rural countryside near Belfast, Ohio. My father was an elementary art teacher and my mother, who also has a teaching degree, stayed home to raise my sister and me. Growing up, I was constantly surrounded by art, whether it was the work of my father, or the many countless museums and artists we visited with him. My dad is a dedicated follower of the Wyeths, and he made an annual pilgrimage from Ohio to the Brandywine Valley in Pennsylvania to see the paintings in person at the Brandywine River Museum and to soak up “Wyeth country” in hopes of running into Andrew or Jamie. At around the age of 8, I was allowed to join him on this trip, and it unlocked in me a full desire to pursue painting seriously.
Your approach combines traditional oil painting techniques with an aesthetic inspired by American painters like John Sloan, Edward Hopper, and Thomas Eakins. How do you see yourself in conversation with these artists, and how do their approaches influence your own depiction of urban life and human existence?
These artists took inspiration from what was in their most immediate surroundings. They didn’t reach for concepts outside their own experience, and they sought ways to transform the banality of the urban environment through painting. In addition to their approach to subject matter, I am deeply inspired by the way that these painters simplified shapes. The underlying matrix of married edges and close values builds incredibly solid compositions that function on a purely abstract level.
Your work is deeply tied to the urban environment of Cincinnati, focusing on uncovering and uplifting the "discarded and overlooked." How do you choose which elements of the city to focus on in your paintings, and what draws you to these specific scenes or details?
A lot of what I choose to paint comes from the imagery I encounter in daily life. My studio is in an old warehouse on the industrialized outskirts of downtown Cincinnati in a section called Camp Washington. This area is rich with Cincinnati’s manufacturing history and continues to be a hub for factories and industrial use properties. I’m always interested in the areas that have been left untouched by the constant need to rebuild and improve. My studio building is located not far from the railyard where my grandfather left for WWII and would later work as a signalman. Painting these areas allows me to really study and learn the stories they offer. Often, I return to places that I’ve painted only a month ago only to find that they have been renovated or torn down entirely.
What does a typical day in the studio look like for you, and how has your art practice grown or changed?
The studio is just one part of my painting practice. At least half of my practice involves painting outside en plein air. When I paint outside, I bring my pochade easel box on a tripod and set up on site. This is usually on the sidewalk, in an abandoned lot, or even in the back of my pickup truck. Painting like this is crucial for capturing the effects of color and light as they actually are and it allows me to really learn an area. During a session, which lasts anywhere from a couple hours to a full day, I see the city in a way I never could from a glance. Painting like this also becomes a performative act that inevitably encourages conversation with the community. People constantly come up to me wanting to first know what I am doing and then why I would paint that dumpster, abandoned building, wrecked car, etc. They’re always eager to tell me the full history of what stands before my easel, and I am more than grateful to listen. It all feeds the work. The studio is where I go to work on larger multi-layer paintings that would be too difficult to make on site. These pieces take inspiration from the 9”x12” paintings that I make in my pochade but are also influenced by the many digital photos and sketches that I bring as well. As much as I try to break the habit, my favorite time to work in the studio is late at night when I’m alone with my dog and the warehouse is silent. In those moments, it’s just the work and myself and the haunting ringing of steel train wheels on steel tracks echoing through the night.
Which experiences have impacted your work as an artist?
I think that graduate school has one of the biggest impacts on my work. Moving from Ohio to Philadelphia, PA and living in a huge city like that changed the way I saw everything. I had full access to some of our country’s greatest art collections and I studied the work constantly. I was always in New York back then, going to countless galleries and museums and I treated them all equally. Seeing these NY shows in person is something that I still do every summer with my wife, Alex. I can learn just as much from a performance at the New Museum as I can from seeing a Sargant at the Met. It all goes into my visual dictionary and when I return to Cincinnati, I see the city with brand new eyes.
How has social media impacted your work?
Social media has become a place where I can discover living artists from around the world that I wouldn’t have had access to before. I have mixed opinions on the benefits and drawbacks social media has to offer because while I do enjoy seeing all the new ideas and images artists offer on these platforms, I am cautious about the influence that it has over me. All too often I see artists that attempt to “brand” their work with one theme in the effort to become more palatable to this online art world. I have no interest in this. Enduring art is built on itself and is in a constant state of evolution. This is why I return to museums for inspiration. Seeing work in person is what painting is all about and learning about the many stories of past artists allows me to find my own place within the cannon of art history.
Are there any new techniques, themes, or concepts you’re currently exploring or planning to explore in future works?
Right now, I’ve begun to experiment with perspective and visual distortion in my paintings. This was born out of an effort to expand the atmosphere and environment within my images but has become a playground for expression and gesture. It starts in the drawing phase of a painting first in my sketchbook and then directly on the primed wood panel with vine charcoal. After I’ve quickly sketched out the distorted image in a process that uses the full length of my arm standing at a distance from my easel, I seal it all with shellac and begin the careful act of painting the image faithfully in form and color over this blueprint. It is freeing to deviate from predictable perspectives but challenging to make the viewer believe it in the end. I am also in the ideation stages for a series of hand-carved and painted wood sculptures that I hope to put into conversation with these distorted paintings in the future.