"Chess Game"

"Chess Game"
© 2002 Brian Hutzell
left panel:        14 x 3-1/4 x 3/4 inches
middle panel: 12-1/8 x 10-3/4 x 1/4 inches
right panel:     15 x 3-3/8 x 3/4 inches
milk paint on wood

“Chess Game”: three separate pieces of wood all designed to hang together as a single work of art. There are several such multi-part pieces in my oeuvre. I’m not sure why I titled this one as I did; it has nothing to do with chess. While I’m talking about chess, however, I’d like to take this opportunity to say a few words about “Chess,” the musical. I hate it. I’ve never seen it, but I hate it. I love the music, but the story is too bleak and bitter for my taste, which is too bad, since the score is often quite beautiful. It has the benefit of having music written by two songwriting heroes of mine: Björn Ulvaeus and Benny Andersson of ABBA, which makes it all the more disappointing for me that the book is so nasty.

Short pieces about my art: "Art House"

"Art House"
© 2002 Brian Hutzell
12-3/4 x 10-3/4 x 1 inches
milk paint on wood

This is “Art House,” from my second art collection, “Eighties.” Again, the medium is milk paint on found wood. This time around, however, the emphasis is off footprints, and on to abstract doodles. On the whole, I’d say this collection is much less successful than “Art By The Foot.” Like that earlier set, most of these works have been lost, thrown away, sold, or recycled into something else. I only know the whereabouts of a couple of them. (For more on Milk paint, see http://www.milkpaint.com/.)

Short pieces about my art: "Socrates"

"Socrates"
© 2002 Brian Hutzell
2 panels: 14-5/8 x 5-1/2 x 3/4 inches each
milk paint on wood

Socrates – truly an intellectual giant, and a legend among legends. When I first returned to college at the University of Massachusetts in Boston, I needed to fill a humanities requirement, and did so with a class called “Jesus, Socrates and Buddha.” I didn’t expect much of the class other than 3 credit hours. Turns out it was a fascinating class taught by Michael LaFargue, and the first of many classes I took at U. Mass in the Religious Studies department. I even toyed with going on to a earn Masters Degree at a divinity school (Harvard, perhaps?) Alas, that’s just one more lead I never followed up on. I have far too many bits of unfinished business in my life. Now I'm studying and preparing to take admissions tests for grad school, but I still have no idea what school or what major. 

Short pieces about my art: "Johnny Appleseed"

"Johnny Appleseed"
© 2002 Brian Hutzell
2 panels, each 3-5/8 x 39 x 3/4 inches
milk paint on wood

Here’s one for “Johnny Appleseed,” legendary barefoot nomad, and a colorful character in the Great American Mythology. I recently read a biography about him, and about the myth surrounding him. It was probably a lot more accurate, but a lot less interesting than a book I read about him as a kid. I go through spells of wanting to be very normal, and blend nicely into fine society. Other times, I feel like I would be happier following the Johnny Appleseed mold, and living unabashedly outside commonly accepted standards of normality. Steve Jobs was a character who managed to do both. Somehow it was not surprising to find out that he was also most comfortable barefoot. If I ever do another barefoot piece, I should name it “Steve.” 

Short pieces about my art: "Jean-Michel"

My first of many homages to artist Jean-Michel Basquiat, who frequently worked while wearing an expensive suit, but barefoot. I wasn’t aware of Basquiat or Haring or several other notable New York artists and performers of the 1980s until they were already dead, many from AIDS. (Klaus Nomi, John Sex, Tseng Kwong Chi, et al) Had I left high school a year sooner and moved straight to New York, I could have been a part of that scene. It would have been great and exciting, but I may not have survived. I spent most of the 80s in Boston, and though I made several day trips to New York, I was always an outsider. 

Short pieces about my art: "Huck Finn"

“Huck Finn,” one of the classic barefooters from one of the finest American novels! Mark Twain has long been one of my favorite writers, but he is also a cautionary example, along with Kurt Vonnegut, John Lennon, etc. of what happens when an idealist becomes disillusioned. I hope I never descend to that level of depression and/or bitterness. I once wrote a song called “Bitter Young Man.” It was a response to Billy Joel’s “Angry Young Man,” and also to George Bailey’s character in “It’s a Wonderful Life.” To me, that is a very depressing movie. The only guy who gets what he wants is mean old Mr. Potter. But I’ll save that rant for another post. In the meantime, please enjoy "Huck Finn."