Briant Matheson


When I was young it was easy to determine the ‘artist’ in your elementary classroom. Invariably it always seemed to be a girl who had the innate ability to draw a horse or a boy obsessed with drawing eighteenth century war frigates. Having no such abilities I assumed that “art” would not play a major role in my life. Little did I realize that creativity, resourcefulness and playful dallying are just as important as one’s innate artistic gift.

I learned from brilliant influences. Alexander Calder’s work showed me the joy of artistic play, particularly through his early circus frolics. Animals and action was his motto. Joseph Cornell was eccentric, quirky, and totally obsessed with his vision. He was a Dadaist but more of a loner than a joiner. I learned that one could create without regard to acceptable societal standards and be content in a kind of artistic seclusion. The iconoclastic Frank Zappa continues to be my most revered inspiration. He once said, “Art is making something from nothing and selling it.” He is my motivation for developing this website. Zappa was a fearless innovator, an astute businessman, and creative beyond belief. I continue to be in awe of his seventy-plus recordings, and I think his music was his best medium.

Perhaps now would be a good time to interject my dada oath, created in the 1970’s, which has become my art mantra.


Dada Oath

On my Dada, i will do my Dada, to Dada and my dada,

To Dada the Dada law, to Dada other Dada at all Dad,

To keep Dada Dada strong, Dada awake, and Dada straight.


Utah

“Utah is a timeless state of mind, where fashion remains eternal. A land of diversity, dominated by one persuasion, providing opposition in all things.” Bri Matheson, 1986, Library of Congress Catalogue Card Number 86-50686 l SBN 0-939011-00-x (“2020” catalogue/Utah Arts Festival)

Quoting Katherine M. Nelson (her reviews have been read in ARTnews, Artweek and Art and Architecture) concerning my Utah box titled Opposition in All Things:

“Matheson’s Opposition in All Things is a treasure chest from the past that echoes the delicate surrealism of Joseph Cornell. It presents a blend of nostalgia and irony that arouses curiousity: a paper-doll boy and girl in a once-upon-a-time world dominated by a strawberry ice cream cone, game letters that tell you ‘This is a nice place,’ a child’s rubber frog, a map of the great Salt Lake, and a large Latter-day Saint seagull feathered in printed propaganda. Above the gull stands a stiff, ‘pure white’ banner; behind it a cricket crouches, well-worn symbols that are often used and abused by the local culture. Matheson’s sense of this place, now and in the future, is very clear.”

For fifty years, Utah was my home, except for one unforgettable year (1975-76) spent in Weston Idaho. I lived on a farm with my girl friend (who later became my wife) Mary Pat Hannon. Living with us was my best childhood-friend, Lory Smith, and his wife Victoria. It was an idyllic period made memorable by art collaborations with Lory Smith, which continued for many years. We worked together on a children’s book titled Rainbow over Whizbang. During that long winter we also started an art movement we eventually called the Ferrous Eclectic Movement. Its name was derived from its primary resource, the rusted metal objects found on nearby abandoned farms and fields. The objects were tied together using Nyltex (a linen and nylon twine). The Ferrous Eclectic Movement was true bricolage, always innovative and resourceful, using simple tools and materials at hand. That period started my artistic career, and I owe much to my friend and teacher, Lory Smith, for the many years of our playful interaction.

Our collaborative efforts continued for the next four years, during which we created over one hundred art objects. The culmination of that effort produced our first and perhaps my most monumental exhibition titled The Dada Nada Art Time Capsule Exposition held at the Art Barn in Salt Lake City in 1980.

The Dada Nada Art Time Capsule:

Not only was this exhibition our first public art showing, but it was also billed as an opportunity for the public to participate in a time capsule celebration. Many Utahns were anxious to participate, including the Right Reverand Otis Charles, who placed his personal bible in the time capsule. Also among the forty objects buried in the sealed capsule was a vinyl record a local punk musician melted in his oven. The capsule itself was a surplus sealed container used by the military to carry explosive shells. The original plan was for the time capsule itself to be placed in the trunk of a 1947 Dodge Businessman’s Coupe and the whole shebang was to be buried in the Utah desert for twenty years and exhumed in the year 2000. It was not; the public was misled. Now in 2009 the truth must be told. In reality we did not bury the capsule, although it did remain sealed. I kept the locked capsule hidden in my workshop for eleven years. Finally in 1991 with one witness (my three-year-old son, Conor) the capsule was laid to rest deep in the Wasatch Mountains near Park City, UT. This secret- now revealed to the world- caused much angst and significant negative karma.


Blair Island

During the Ferrous Eclectic Movement, “Blair Island” (named for Clark Blair) served as our workshop and living quarters in Salt Lake City. Blair Island, a once proud mansion on 100 South Street, now divided into apartments, was nestled between a typical “mormon” wardhouse and, appropriately, a psychiatrist’s office (not an asylum as often reported).

Blair Island’s four-bay garage served us well as our workshop and repository for thousands of pounds of “junk” metal collected primarily at a southern Utah abandoned uranium mill near Fry Canyon. Luckily much of the art produced had a short half-life, the time required for one half the atoms of a given amount of a radioactive substance to decay.

Blair Island was a legendary Salt Lake landmark in the 1980’s. Many ‘happenings’ occurred there, including the original screenings of independent movies for the United State Film & Video Festival. This festival was to be the precursor for the Sundance Film Festival. Lory Smith had much to do with that festival’s prominence and success.

 

The Fish Period

My next art endeavor could best be called simply my Fish Period and lasted from 1980-1998. For eighteen years I created over one-thousand papier-mache fish, most of which were sold in various art festivals throughout the western states. Notable festivals include the Salt Lake Arts Festival, Park City Arts Festival, Sun Valley, ID, Jackson Hole, WY, Albuquerque, NM, Salem, OR, Berkley, CA, Sausalito, CA, Boulder, CO, Phoenix, AZ and Norman, OK. I was represented by Bonnie and Denis Phillips of Phillips Gallery, in Salt Lake City, UT, for twenty-five years. I was also represented by galleries in Sun Valley, ID, Jackson Hole, WY and Park City, UT.

In 1998, I proclaimed, “I have made my last fish.” This was the quickest way to increase their intrinsic value next to my passing. The Fish Period had come to an end. I still have approximately forty fish in my possession, all of which are for sale.

 

Artist in Education

During my Fish Period I was employed as ‘artist in education’ under the auspices of the Utah Arts Council, one of the nation’s oldest arts councils (since 1898). For eighteen years I conducted workshops throughout the state of Utah. I taught every age group from pre-schoolers to senior citizens in workshops that were each two weeks in length. I taught over 10,000 students how to make papier-mache fish, dolphins, whales and turtles, using my techniques. I basically employed a method of using Styrofoam and wire to form the skeleton, papier mache to provide a paintable surface, and acrylic paints and lacquer. Glass eyes completed the sculptures.

I can truthfully say I never had a student fail to complete a sculpture that they could not be proud of. This included students who were blind and severely handicapped to those students who simply hated the feeling of cold papier mache. The enthusiasm of the students was contagious, and I learned much about art through the eyes of the children. (I focused my efforts with the fifth graders, who I believe represent a perfect age for introducing my incredible fish workshop!)

 

Leaving Zion for the Genteel South

In 2002, after living in Utah for fifty years, I moved to Atlanta, GA. My wife, Mary Pat, accepted a position as the director of the Atlanta Botanical Garden. Change was welcomed and long overdue. During the first years in Georgia, I relied on my papier-mache expertise and created objects which reflected my new environment such as woodpeckers, turtle, lizards, whales, dolphins, scarabs, moths, butterflies and dragonflies. I also created numerous red-twig dogwood constructions and other assemblages in an appreciation of local fauna. With the creation of flying dinosaurs and large abstract sculptures, I bid farewell to my papier-mache days.

 

Bricolage Boxes

In 2004 I returned to my true forte of the three-dimensional collage, usually in the box form. Over the next five years I produced 100 boxes, some of which are displayed for the first time on this website.

The objects I select for each box usually dictate the composition. Invariably certain themes resurface; I guess because they are imprinted in my psyche. Included in these revisited themes are as follows:

Using the box as an artistic metaphor, my mind is free to go in any direction. It allows me to use symbols and objects to express thoughts, many of which I am unable to express in words. And finally the box is generally sealed in glass or Plexiglas to give it an aura of the sacred.


Paintings

I always knew that I could paint. For decades I painted with acrylics on my three dimensional objects, such as the fish and other assemblages, but I had not put paint on the accepted surface of society, the canvas.

Old images of a fifth grade girl who could draw horses continued to haunt me. In Utah, most of my artist friends were painters. They were university-trained, competent and usually singular in vision. I feel as if I could never have painted in Utah. I was too reticent to enter the painter’s world. I would have been too judgmental and unlikely to reveal my results. The old bugaboo of comparisons would have been overwhelming.

Our move to Atlanta (and with it a certain level of anonymity and freedom), provided me with a non-threatening artistic environment in which I could explore painting. Since 2007 I painted over fifty paintings. Some I feel great about, others, not so much, but I think that is to be expected in any new venture.

If I was to generalize my painting style I would suggest that it is “collage” in nature. First I size up the space, insert the shapes or objects, and balance the tones. Painting provides me with a new freedom of expression. I also must confess that my personal experiences working in galleries have shown me that it is much easier to sell a painting rather than an object or sculpture. American culture is conditioned to instant gratification, and one can readily hang a painting over a sofa and feel safe in their artistic selection. Hanging-sculptures and art objects are much harder to allow into our space, and they have to be dusted!