We could talk about Jean Arp, we could talk about David Shrigley, and surely we could sing the praises of Henry Darger all night long, but why not discuss a lesser-known artist? How about someone fantastic and unique and not quite so lime-lit? How about the lovely work of Donald Mitchell? (See above.)
It was through Creative Growth (an art center in Oakland, Ca. dedicated to providing top-notch materials, instruction, and exhibition/promotion opportunities to artists with disabilities) that I first learned of Mr. Mitchell. I don't know much about him personally, but from what I understand Mitchell's work has made a profound change over the years. His early pieces at CG consisted primarily of what his mentors and critics refer to as "obsessively crosshatched fields of lines". These lines would cover the entire page in a stressed, chaotic fashion and hide any trace of underlying images from the inquisitive observer. Perhaps there was a secret picture beneath the picture? A story within a story? Then, several years ago, Mr. Mitchell started to bring to light the faces and forms that he had buried beneath the lines on the page, and when he did he revealed curious figures that, to me, are a wonderful representation of dark and light, playfulness and tension. They are oddly sweet, like something that might hang in a nursery, but they also feel like they express an intriguing social commentary: a world of similar figures all stacked on top of each other, with each thinking "Hey- you're on my head". Now, after all these years, his trademark has become what his proponents call "a tightly composed, graphically sophisticated page of crowded figures". I find them enchanting up close, beautiful from afar, and his process definitely worth contemplating. No longer on the lesser-known list, Mitchell exhibited his work in 2007 at Gavin Brown’s enterprise, New York, and ABCD, Paris. I remain a devout fan of Donald Mitchell for the hidden treasure of his artistry, and of Creative Growth for their dedication to encouraging and supporting the arts for all.
It was through Creative Growth (an art center in Oakland, Ca. dedicated to providing top-notch materials, instruction, and exhibition/promotion opportunities to artists with disabilities) that I first learned of Mr. Mitchell. I don't know much about him personally, but from what I understand Mitchell's work has made a profound change over the years. His early pieces at CG consisted primarily of what his mentors and critics refer to as "obsessively crosshatched fields of lines". These lines would cover the entire page in a stressed, chaotic fashion and hide any trace of underlying images from the inquisitive observer. Perhaps there was a secret picture beneath the picture? A story within a story? Then, several years ago, Mr. Mitchell started to bring to light the faces and forms that he had buried beneath the lines on the page, and when he did he revealed curious figures that, to me, are a wonderful representation of dark and light, playfulness and tension. They are oddly sweet, like something that might hang in a nursery, but they also feel like they express an intriguing social commentary: a world of similar figures all stacked on top of each other, with each thinking "Hey- you're on my head". Now, after all these years, his trademark has become what his proponents call "a tightly composed, graphically sophisticated page of crowded figures". I find them enchanting up close, beautiful from afar, and his process definitely worth contemplating. No longer on the lesser-known list, Mitchell exhibited his work in 2007 at Gavin Brown’s enterprise, New York, and ABCD, Paris. I remain a devout fan of Donald Mitchell for the hidden treasure of his artistry, and of Creative Growth for their dedication to encouraging and supporting the arts for all.
I love these little men. I especially love how each one has his own personal expression on his round cherub-like face. joy!
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