Still Study: Artist James Andrew Smith’s depth of focus

“Wally’s Whimsies” • 40x40” oil on canvas

Tulsa-born James Andrew Smith has made his career as a painter, not a poet per se — but his visual creations speak volumes to the engaged viewer and he is thoughtful and eloquent about the nature and complexities of his craft. The artist, whose work can be viewed online at jamesandrewsmithart.com or in person at the Wally Workman Gallery in Austin, Joseph Gierek Fine Art in Tulsa or Oklahoma City’s Howell Gallery, spoke with us about cultural influences, his pursuit of precision and the beauty in mortality.

What was the most influential lesson you learned in your first art class as a child?

My mother was a taxi driver. One day she picked up a local Tulsa artist, Mr. George Kountoupis, and by the end of the trip, she had convinced him to take on her 12-year-old son as a student and include me in his adult art classes. The most influential lesson Mr. Kountoupis taught me was how to look, see and identify the colors in the still life objects and how to mix the oil paints to make the colors I saw. I already knew how to look at an object and represent it in lifelike drawing, but being able to understand how paints with strange names like burnt sienna, raw umber, alizarin crimson and yellow ochre mixed to make the colors I could see was an invaluable lesson.  

How did your experiences at Booker T. Washington High School steer your artistic direction?

When I was a student at BTW, Dr. Andy Zaller recognized my artistic abilities, but rather than him narrowly constraining me to specific lessons, projects or skills, he opened his classroom to me as a place of infinite exploration. While other students were completing lessons on art fundamentals, I experimented. This wide exposure and free experimentation helped me recognize the breadth and depth of artistic expression and the intersections of skills and tools and approaches. I also began to see the world of art that could be open to me.

How did creating fashion illustrations during high school influence your artistic style?

Once again, my mother’s cab driving opened the door for my first art job. She picked up a young staff artist for the historic Tulsa Renberg’s clothing store, and by the end of the ride, I had the opportunity to bring samples of my work and interview for a staff illustrator position. Soon, I was hired to create pencil illustrations of the fashions that would be included in the weekly newspaper ads. When I finished my high school classes for the day, I drove downtown and began learning the ins and outs of creating copy-ready art and the elements of graphic design. So many other lessons were embedded in this experience. Essentially, at 16, I had stumbled into an incredible internship where I was learning from the knowledgeable and talented director of marketing at Renberg’s, Ms. Patsy Evans.

“Bodegon” • 30x30” oil on linen

“Imminent Potential” • 24x30” oil on canvas

What inspired your shift from graphic design back to oil painting?

I went to school for graphic design, but after a decade working in corporate and agency advertising, I began feeling a restlessness of heart and a desire to return to oil painting.  I think it was both a kind of homecoming and a desire to regain control of my art, and to explore and express my unique artistic vision. Graphic design is always client-focused, and I wanted to move the focus back to my own vision. 

Why do you primarily choose still life as your subject, and how do you select your objects?

I have painted portraits, landscapes and non-objective or abstract works, but I am continually brought back to the still life genre because of its potential to tell stories and evoke emotions and reflections within the viewer. Objects can serve as symbols and characters, and they can also be carriers of beauty for their own sake. When I am arranging still life objects, I am looking for florals or items to arrange in a harmonious tableau, while thinking about something unexpected, or the hint of a conversation among the objects or the possibility of a narrative emerging from their relationship with each other.

How does your Native American heritage influence your art, especially in still life?

My life experience has been lived at the border-crossing, always attempting to make meaning and understand my blended Cherokee and white heritage as one that is rich and inclusive and finds a home in both communities and traditions. I am a Native American artist, regardless of what I paint. The still life emerges in the Western European artistic tradition — specifically the Dutch were fascinated by it. I might not choose to paint traditional or “stereotypical” Native American subject matter, such as basketry, clay pots, feathers, buffalo or beaded and ribboned regalia — but what I create, because it comes from my hand, is Native art. I am a Native American artist who paints at the intersection and complexity of the Western tradition. My art asks important questions: What does it mean to be a Native American artist? With what breadth and depth and rich diversity of expression can Native American art be understood and honored?

What do flowers symbolize in your work?

A floral blossom changes hour to hour. What begins as a carefully selected perfect bloom begins to diminish from the time it is cut, and in a few days it will be completely wilted and dropping petals. I think the transitory nature of flowers and edible produce is what captivated the attention of the early still life painters. They recognized the tension between abundance and lack; beauty and decay; and life and death. Many historic still life paintings were intentional studies of mortality. The death of a rose spoke directly to our own eventual deaths. I don’t think these were morbid thoughts, but a careful choice to capture beauty and abundance within the fleeting and transitory moments of our lives.  

How has your artistic style and approach evolved over the years?

When I started painting, I learned to work on textured canvases and use heavy bristle brushes.  I learned to make gestural marks to evoke and express, rather than carefully describe. Over the years, I gradually moved away from that form of oil painting toward an approach that became increasingly refined. I began using smooth linens and wood panels in place of heavily textured canvases. I also set aside my bristle brushes in favor of smooth natural hair and soft synthetic brushes. My pursuit of control and precision, which evolved over time, resulted in careful paint applications through thin layers that gradually build up depth and richness of color. Recently, I have been playing with lost and found edges, and more gestural backgrounds, and recognize a kind of throwback to my early days as an oil painter. I have been painting the still life for decades now, but I am always surprised by how many ways there are to capture the fleshy beauty of a tulip petal, or the fragile skin of a grape. •