Adam and Eve

Phone Mask

Still Death

Temptress

The Unanswered Question

(Oil on Canvas, 20in x 24in, 2006)

This one came about when I was confronting the difficulties of finding a good model. In the past, I had resorted to using a GI Joe. One day I made the connection between Ken and Barbie with Adam and Eve. The metaphor is perfect: prelapsarian humanity with no knowledge, no ethics and no sexuality just like the hollow, neutered, irresponsibly proportioned¹ dolls.

Here they are arranged as though a child were re-enacting the story ­ suspended by strings with the ubiquitous bluebonnet landscape as backdrop and harmless toy tiger. Which brings to mind a story my wife told me about when she was at Catholic school in Hong Kong being taught these stories for the first time. Even as a child, she thought these stories were manufactured for children because the Œreal¹ Bible, with its deep philosophy, was more than the little kids could handle. She was greatly surprised to learn later that the Bible she read as a child was not a children¹s version, but in fact the same one

(Oil on Canvas, 18in x 24in, 2007)

This still life is inspired by the idea of the mask.

How people can change faces quickly in different circumstances. In particular, this is about how people can seem to be over the phone. How peace, calm and happiness can be projected without the intrusion of a visual image, which may explain why the videophone never took off. More generally, consider that how people behave in their own homes may be radically different than the mask they wear in public.

I had been keeping this old phone hoping to use it one day in a still life and here it is at last. The crooked plant and makeup also serve as symbols of deceit. I particularly like the bullet-like lipstick case and the triangular structure.

(Oil on Canvas, 24in x 16in, 2007)

Traditionally, the form of the still life often contains symbols of death, called memento mori, meant to contrast with the sumptuous, vibrant fruits and flowers depicted by their side. The most common of these symbols is the skull, which servers as a reminder of out mortality. In this still life, the entire arrangement is a memento mori, where all the objects are in the various stages of decay. I arranged both rotten and eaten fruits beneath an orchid in the process of dropping its flowers. Rather than a skull, I included a mold of my upper teeth I had done some years ago. I particularly liked the bone-like effect of the dried orchid stems.

(Oil on Canvas, 18in x 48in, 2007)

Every time I go to a museum I get inspired and intimidated at the same time. I often come back to the studio dwelling on the works I had seen and thinking of ways to extract techniques and ideas for my own. It is always very tempting to me to try to copy a great master ­ just to see if I can create something as beautiful. The last time this happened was at the Museum of Modern Art in New York looking a one of Monet¹s water lily paintings. The alluring figure is the temptress/muse egging me on to copy the master. So I did. I just did a copy of a Monet painting about not copying a Monet painting.

(The other side of this is that when I go to a museum, there are lots of attractive women around and sometimes I can¹t focus on the damn art.)

(Oil on Canvas, 22in x 30in, 2007)

Though this appears strikingly morbid, I like to think of this piece as very life affirming. Some years ago I read ³Denial of Death² by Sherwin B. Nuland and I considered the same title for this painting. My mortality is almost always on my mind and the passing of time weighs heavily. As I have gotten older, the time passes faster and faster, which increases the immediacy of the fact of my death. So I often ask myself ³Is this the best use of my short time? What should I be doing? How would I live if I had no fear?² Tough questions with no answers. Hence, the title. To personalize this painting, I put my own name on the monument.