The Artists

Stephen Hansen is a prolific artist with a sense of humor that is apparent in his work.  He is known world wide for his creations using paint, print, paper mache, resin, hydrocal, wood, bronze, steel and stone.  The easiest way to see his artwork up close is to visit the Kalamazoo/Battle Creek International Airport which has several of his sculptures.

Karla Niehus , former Associate Curator of Exhibition at the KIA, writes of Stephen Hansen:

Since beginning to sell his work as a teenager, Stephen Hansen has experienced no shortage of enthusiastic collectors. However, his whimsical papier maché sculptures have caused critics-and even Hansen, himself- to question “but, is it art?”.  Doesn’t fine art employ precious pigments, marble, and bronze to wrestle with complex and serious subjects?

For a time, Hansen painted in a style he described as “realistic and morbid” but eventually decided that “serious” didn’t have to mean “sombre,” and he returned to papier maché. He characterizes his work as “distilled observations” of the world around him, creating visual puns that gently lampoon human foibles, social conventions, and turns of phrase. Hansen feels that “You can address serious concerns and actually get people to consider them if you present them in an amiable sort of way.”

In “But, Is It Art?”, Hansen stirs up a historically contentious dialog between critics and contemporary artists who challenge the conventions of composition, material, style, and content. And then Hansen places the debate in the mouth of a painter on his coffee break. A jovial workman in brightly spattered painter’s whites perches atop a canvas. The title makes audible a fragment of philosophical coffee-break chatter. Meanwhile, his colleague finishes rolling on the cheery, primary-colored rectangles that parody the oversized, abstract paintings of Mark Rothko. Now accepted as an American master, Rothko defended his enigmatic work against critics in the 1940s, asserting its “tragic and timeless” subject matter. Hansen’s drolly narrative sculpture is, in contrast, easily accessible and far from “tragic.” However, the question “Is it art?” may well be timeless. Hansen invites viewers to be skeptical of the artificial distinctions between “high” and “low” art. If he’s satirizing the arguments of critics, Hansen is razzing the artist, too. “I also recognize the fact that I’m participating in all of the absurdities around me.”

As usual, Hansen poses a question, leaving the answers to the judgment of the viewer. But maybe we should take a break from the analysis of his papier maché creations and just lighten up. After all, “It is difficult to be pretentious, the most common pitfall of contemporary art, in a material so inherently silly.”

Karla J. Niehus, former Associate Curator of Exhibitions at KIA, writes of Samuel Levi Jones:

The raw materials of Samuel Levi Jones’s work—encyclopedias and law books—are library discards.  Stitching flayed and truncated books to canvas in stacked columns, Jones binds emotional, expressionistic action to a conceptual, minimalist composition and color palette. The covers have been violently stripped from all but two volumes. Their shabby leather spines identify the books as bound records that once filled law library shelves, providing authoritative examples of legal precedent. Though the bound format may be discarded in a digital age, the content—now shifted to databases—still informs future legal decisions.

Kristiana, like related works by Jones, is a critique of existing systems of power and authority in our society. Law books, encyclopedias, and the Eurocentric canon of “classic” literature all buttress select experiences and practices while excluding other narratives. Jones recalls, as a young schoolboy, unquestioningly accepting the “truth” presented by the encyclopedia. But in 2011 he began to scrutinize a 1972 edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica as a representation of power and cultural values: Who merited inclusion? What truths were affirmed? What voices were excluded?

African Americans were largely absent, with luminaries including Martin Luther King, Jr. and Frederick Douglass grouped in an entry under a shared racial designation. After working with encyclopedias, Jones began to address his frustration with law enforcement and the legal system by tearing apart law books and then creating a new order—a process he called “cathartic.”

Kristiana is the name of a teenage girl who approached a Texas police station in January 2015—seeking help—and was fatally shot by officers. Kristiana and a related work, titled McKinney, both reference tragic incidents involving excessive use of force by police. Jones responds, through his work, to numerous recent conflicts that have stimulated a national conversation about power and protection. He has unbound these static volumes and enacted a metaphorical restructuring of their authority through artistic action. American law, created to be dynamic, can be similarly unbound when citizens choose to restructure social hierarchy  through political action.

James Palmore enjoyed growing up in a creative family with the freedom to explore nature on Eastside of Kalamazoo. When Palmore was a young man, many people recognized his artistic gifts, and would frequently request portraits of their loved ones,but he found it difficult to earn enough money. He struggled to balance being a teacher and an artist but even found ways to teach art to the blind.

“Part of art is to educate, to inform,” he says, “and part of it is therapeutic, nurturing.  Part of what I do is to really understand what I’m doing, says Palmore. At 80, he has an informed view of black history, and sometimes uses his art as a way to process social or political events . As an artist, he is inspired by Rembrandt, a Baroque realist, and Salvadore Dali, a surrealist.

“Rembrandt was able to create a painting where you could see five or six materials, including leather and metal. He had a dramatic way of using light.” He also compares himself to Dali, saying “I’m interested in just pure beauty so I do non-objective abstract stuff. And sometimes I will do it all at the same time—hyperrealism, found objects, recycling, surreal. I use whatever technique or style I need.”

Palmore continues to create and sees no need to slow down. He has worked as a professor at KVCC, co-founded the Black Arts and Cultural Center downtown, and won many awards at shows across the Midwest.