Interview with Scott G. Brooks

In his figurative work, Scott G. Brooks draws from myth, fairy tale, religious and cultural iconography, nature, and machinery to tell stories that are ultimately about how we relate to ourselves and others. As a resident of Washington, DC, he has ample material in the political, but most of his work is far more intimate. Infused with humor, unflinching candor, and the grotesque, the work of Scott G. Brooks compels us to look most closely at each other.

Why are these characters there? What’s going on? What led them to this point? I try to look into the subtle levels and create a dynamic.—Scott G. Brooks

Julie Winters: You have said that things might have gone differently for you if you had moved to Los Angeles, CA, rather than Washington, DC. (Brooks moved from his hometown of Flint, MI, in 1990 with the goal of relocating to “any big city.”) In what ways might that have been the case?

Scott G. Brooks: Well, when I moved out here, I immediately started working for a naval contractor, doing graphic design work. If I’d gone out to L.A., I might’ve gone more into the direction of movies or the entertainment industry. I’d still like to do that, actually. But looking back, I don’t regret being in DC at all. New York would also be good, but there’s a lot about living here that offers the same kind of life as I’d get in New York—having everything in walking distance, without needing a car, for example—but it’s more affordable here. I think if I were to move, though, it might be nice to move somewhere completely different, like Italy.

JW: Are artists pigeonholed by geography—by being from New York or L.A.?

SGB: Galleries can perceive artists that way. Some artists perceive a rivalry [between the two cities]. Being in DC, I can sort of float in between—it’s pretty easy to get to New York—and I’m glad to not have to worry about being part of a particular “scene.” One thing that’s nice about the Internet and sites like Facebook is that it doesn’t matter so much where you’re from: you can be from anywhere and still get your work out there.

JW: You’ve done illustration work, and you’ve mentioned that you’d like to write a children’s story; what is your approach to that?

SGB: Actually, the work I’m doing now [for his upcoming solo show at Last Rites Gallery; see below] is turning into that. It has an unwritten narrative. I’m not a writer, so it’s hard to string together words into a narrative; one approach would be to work with a writer. My new work for the show (for example, The Luckiest Widow in the World) is a loose collection of narrative “tales.”  While I’m not interested in getting these published as a book, it is a way to create a cohesive show. It’s important to me for each new piece to stand alone, which is proving to be the biggest challenge while pulling this together.

JW: Has there been a time when your work has taken you somewhere unforeseen that was really a surprise, good or bad?

SGB: Founding Fathers, which shows a black guy being stood on.  I’d gotten most of the painting done, and one character was posed standing on something or someone, but I hadn’t settled on what that would be. I was looking through my model photos and found that reference and thought, “Oh, shit.” But it really worked, because this country was built on the backs of slaves, and there are people in colonial dress in the painting, and so it was right for the piece. It wasn’t my goal to offend anyone, and there’s always a fine line. Sometimes I do have to censor myself.

JW: Nativity on Demand makes use of chickens in a way that’s thematically apparent, but ducks, chickens, and other birds make their way into your work in less obvious ways. Tell us about them.

SGB: Yes, Nativity on Demand brings a couple of things together, including the idea of factory farming, and I love it when that happens—when a few ideas come together like that. [In other works] the ducks have taken on the role of a deity, a higher power. They’re not as flawed as humans.

JW: For the Bible Tells Me So strikes me as a piece about desperation; is that what you’d intended to depict?

SGB: I think there’s a sense of desperation about a lot of my work. I think this one, though, is more about obsession. Patience is the same way.

JW: The girl in Patience is the same as the one in Leda and the Swan Go Picnicking; what’s the connection?

SGB: There’s no relation; the two pieces just sort of worked out that way. I liked the look of that model—small and child-like. I’ve had some favorite models who I’ve used for several pieces, and I’m trying to be more careful about making sure they don’t look the same from piece to piece.

JW: In looking at your work overall, if there’s one theme that seems to emerge from your body of work, it seems to be expectation. There’s a sense of something impending. Would you agree with that?

SGB: Yes, or that something has just happened. My work is figurative and narrative. Why are these characters there? What’s going on? What led them to this point? I try to look into the subtle levels and create a dynamic.

JW: Tell us about what’s ahead for you.

SGB: I have work in the “Cute & Creepy” exhibition from October 14 to November 20, 2011, at the Museum of Fine Arts at Florida State University; in the “I Want My Music Video Art” show, October 7 to October 20, 2011, at Meltdown Galleries in Hollywood, CA; and in “La Luz de Jesus 25” at La Luz de Jesus Galleries in fall 2011 in Los Angeles, CA. I also have a solo show, “The Luckiest Widow in the World and Other Tales of Misfortune,” on December 3, 2011, at Last Rites Gallery in New York, NY.