The Sharks Underneath

Summer Frolic, 2016,  illustration by Greg Vineyard
Summer Frolic, 2016,
illustration by Greg Vineyard

Investigating More of One’s Art Story

by Greg Vineyard –

Not that anyone needs one bit more of proof that I’m kind of odd, but… every time I look at a beautiful seascape – you the know the type, a wide and high vista featuring two snorkelers or kayakers in turquoise waters – I immediately wonder how many sharks are in there, too.

I’m not trying to be morbid – I’ve been in the water with sharks (um, never again, btw…!), and I think they are amazing creatures. My point is they are there even if we can’t see them.

This got me to thinking about the art development process and what we may or may not know about a finished work. We often just see a final piece in a gallery or on social media, and don’t know much about what it took the artist to get to that end presentation. But even the simplest-seeming artworks contain personal experience and history and more, not just in physical development, but also in the genesis of the idea that led to making art in the first place. I see all these details as the sharks underneath.

Artists ideate, gravitate toward themes, sketch, draw, tighten, erase, re-draw, start over, change materials, hone styles, finalize, collaborate and present. They wake up, make coffee, wrestle with kids and pets and cars and jobs and obligations. They laugh and cry and yawn and share with friends and eat good food and think about life and take out the garbage. Days are influenced by love and fear and appreciation and neutrality and more. There’s a lot going on every day for people, and all these fascinating or seemingly mundane little sharky things are behind the scenes when we look at the art they create. The sharks are there, beautifully swimming along, each carrying an element of a life.

Some artists delve into all this, and some don’t. There’s certainly validity to a backstory being simply: “I tried (insert medium here) and liked doing it so now it’s what I do.” There are a lot of very skilled craft technicians out there, creating things we enjoy looking at. Personally, I like knowing more about artists and their lives and processes and the works. When we look at the history of artists, we learn about the influences of their time, their friends and relationships, how and where they worked, if they struggled in their days, what made them happiest, and more. It all informs what we’re looking at.

Conceptual work requires digging deeper, paying attention to the little things throughout a process, and generating useful information. Creation involves both big and everyday emotions, reactions and actions, and not losing the feeling or the imprint of these minutiae in the final. Through information gathering, artists deepen their understanding of their own work, as well as gain focus and leap onward and upward to new growth in a series, or on to the next big idea.

For example, at first glance, my illustrations appear to be just about whimsy and happiness. In addition to those very real intentions, they also involve societal and personal psychology, desire for change, and an intention to settle on light over darkness. One may not get all that when they see a happy dancing cat in a field, but for those who want to know – and for future biographers – I have my information in order. Much of my work is about finding delight and hope right where one is at.

Artists’ backstories aren’t always evident in the final product – and some folks may be concerned about overburdened, lofty-sounding overshares. But reality and truth aren’t usually as offensive as they are merely appreciated, especially to collectors. We express our wonderfulness in uncountable ways, shapes and forms – and even identifying just one shark underneath gives everyone more of the story, lending support to the shimmering scenes we present to the world.