Sometime in the 90's, when I was a kid, my dad decided that he would build a platform structure for my brother and I on the wooded hill behind our house. From what I remember, it was meant to be some sort of wooden deck for a tent, an outdoor area for my brother and I to play camping. The job was started, but then slowly and imperceptibly abandoned. I was given no rationale, nor did I ask for one. The reminder of this failed endeavor remained in the back yard for years--the stacked cinder block foundation, a monument to projects left undone. Now, as an adult and a parent, I can think of about a million solid reasons why one might ditch an uneccessary project. To his credit, my brilliant, funny and thoughtful father also successfully completed many household jobs. However, this is the memory that comes to my mind when I reflect on Austin Brady's work, likely pulled forth by his body of work’s compelling title, “No Dads No Masters”.
There is a haphazard, mutable quality to Austin's work, although decidedly different than my dad's abandoned project. For one, Austin's work is complete, though perhaps not in the way a layperson might anticipate. Secondly, Austin’s various states of (in)completion are an intentional conceptual choice. Great care is put into his application of various methods and techniques. In one sculpture, Flail, Austin leaves visible the lumber grade stamp on a mass produced 2 x 4. This exposure is in contrast to a neighboring trompe l'oeil hole within which we glimpse painted Skeletors in a dark, cartoon world. In another sculpture, a modern-day Excalibur is adorned with truck balls and protrudes from an orange Home Depot bucket, its blade stuck and useless in what appears to be cement.
In addition to complicating the
hierarchy between high and low art practices, Austin’s work invites a playful breakdown
between fantasy and convention. An ordinary work space, such as the garage,
becomes a place where magic can happen. The paintings and sculptures flip flop
between functional and decorative, as I sift through a multitude
of possible masculine gender roles. Some are problematic and stereotypical, while others are funny, nostalgic, vulnerable and unexpected.
I'll end on a synchronicity. As I am writing, I am listening to a
recent Astrology Podcast ep called "Unshaming the Signs". When speaking
about Gemini, astrologer Britten LaRue indicates that Gemini's tendency
toward distraction has important benefits. Maybe each so-called
distraction gives us something we need at a given moment. Maybe we
aren't meant to finish every task.
A thousand thank-you’s to Austin for sharing such thoughtful responses to my questions and for providing generous insight into his work, process and habits. You can find more about Austin Brady and his work on his website: www.austin-brady.com and on Instagram @_wolfprison_
*☿*☽*☉ Bonus Astrology PSA ☉*☾*☿* I am not an astrologer, but after listening to
hundreds of hours of The Astrology Podcast (plus extra cred for reading Chris Brennan’s 700-page
book Hellenistic Astrology: The Study of Fate and Fortune),
I am at least entitled to play one on this blog. Most people are familiar with
sun-sign astrology, which is the zodiacal sign of the sun at the time of your
birth. Each of us, though, has an entire birth chart, which represents
the placement of all of the planets in the sky (as well as other important
astrological points) at the time of birth. In our natal charts, each person has
a section (aka a ‘House’) for each of the 12 zodiacal signs. This means that we
are all a little bit Gemini, babes. So, if you take astrology seriously enough to malign a sign, remember that every sign provides you with a different set of ways to exist in the world and is also, in some way, a part of you.
Enjoy! xoxo
It’s pretty funny, I get this question almost every semester as a professor and I always tell my inquiring students to guess based on my personality. They usually get it wrong 5-7 times before they land on Gemini. When I confirm they are always like “uhggg, of COURSE you are a Gemini”
My mom was always very into astrology, and so I know a bit about it, but not a ton. I wanted to do a little research and found out my moon is Pisces and my rising is Leo.
I suppose I do identify with some of the characteristics, which I see as this kind of gazing pool, or like the Studiolo in the Ducal Palace. Just this big mesh to catch and organize all these insecurities and indecisions. It’s helpful to have some external source that can assign meaning and direction to all the chaos.
2. What is your morning routine?
I am so bad at routine, hahaha. I find myself getting off task pretty easily. It’s kind of goofy, but I need a checklist to direct myself and show myself that I am actually accomplishing things. It is usually: brush teeth, wash face, take meds, feed the boys (our cats), make an improvised breakfast out of whatever we have in the fridge, listen to the news while I cook, and do whatever chores my partner and I have talked about the night before. If it is a day that I teach, I always leave extra early to go down to Milwaukee Cafe so that I can get a coffee with oat milk and vanilla cardamom syrup (shout out to Vern, a good friend and the best barista in Detroit) and then I walk from the cafe to campus and do all of my prep before class.
Before I say this, I have to acknowledge that, yes, I know he is problematic, but there is a thing that I watched about Tom Sachs where he practices “output before input” where you are supposed to draw or sketch or dance or whatever before you scroll your phone or listen to the news. I am so bad at this, but sometimes I can commit for few days at a time and it always comes out good. I really need an old-fashioned alarm clock so I don’t touch my phone first thing in the morning, otherwise I am in bed for an embarrassingly long amount of time just scrolling.
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3. Have you ever cried in front of an artwork? If so, what was it?
Absolutely. Every time I even talk about Untitled (Portrait of Ross in LA) by Felix Gonzalez-Torres I start to weep. It is so simple, and tender, and the feeling of loss… enjoying these small little bits of sweetness while the body diminishes. There is no greater love letter in the world. There are definitely others. I don’t shy away from being moved by artwork, but this one has made me cry pretty much every time.
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I have been reading a lot of sci-fi/fantasy with my partner. I know I should be reading more theory and whatnot but N.K. Jemisin has a chokehold on me. I read her Broken Earth trilogy and I was just hooked. I am a quarter of the way through The Shadowed Sun. So good.
I am also reading The Wound is (Not) Real: A Memoir by Marty Cain, which is this absolutely beautiful and haunting book of poetry that are spliced with QR code’s that you scan for these short videos. I picked it up at this local book store (another shout out to Book Suey in Hamtramck) and I read about 3 lines of a random poem and practically ran to the register to buy it. It hurts my heart in all the right ways.
5. Tell us four truths about yourself and one lie (in any order, just don’t divulge which is the lie!):
a. I was once ran over by a car while biking to an interview and still showed up to the interview, on time, and in the back of a cop car
b. I once ran out of D-rings when prepping for an exhibition and ended up stapling pop tabs to the back of my art as a quick fix (and still get teased about it)
c. I have a casting of Vin Diesel’s real face in my studio that I talk to some times
d. I once mistook a sculpture at the MOCAD for my partner of 13 years. Even put my arm around its waist and got yelled at by security.
e. Coming up with truths about myself is a hell of a lot harder than coming up with the lie.
6. This is the wild card question. Your work often includes unusual, non-art materials that are in conversation with traditional oil paintings. Can you talk about the symbolic value of the materials you use? How and where do you find your materials?
There were quite a few processes that happened simultaneously in my practice that felt very important to this transformation. The big one is that I began to consider a painting as an object with an image on it rather than the traditional “portal” that depicts a scene. It is this funny punishment to painting. It started by leaning paintings against the wall rather than hang them in order to take them down a notch. When I did start hanging paintings on the wall, I would stack things on top of them to turn them into these really dumb shelves where I could just put knick knacks and empty beer cans onto. They are receptacles for the runoff of life. They get all gunked up.
I am also in love with flatbed paintings and the way they could organize information free of physics. Things feel like they are always subject to change. I slowly shifted into the vernacular of the “garage,” letting it become a mythical site in which these paintings live. The organizational logic of garage pegboard worked in the same way that flatbed painting does. Here are these images and objects that are essentially tools of identity (more specifically white midwestern masculine identity in my work) that I can take off the wall, use, and put back when I no longer need them. Mounting swords or truck nuts onto the paintings felt as natural to painting as using the color red or using a certain brush. It also confused and frustrated some of my grad school professors, which I loved.
I source the materials from all sorts of places. Most of the weapons I get from flea markets when I can, or source online if I am looking for something very specific. Some of the objects are casts, such as the silicone D20s I use. Others are sourced from vintage shops or resale stores. I just picked up this resin “floating beer bottle” sculpture from a vintage shop that has got to make an appearance soon.
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I love Kyle Koguts work. I did a duo show with him a few years back at KO gallery and I think he would be great
Kristina Sheufelt would also be great. They have an insane body of work that spans ecological and technological realms that it just jaw dropping
Oh, and Kara Güt! Killer artist. Everything that they do just keeps getting impossibly better and better.
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| © Jeff Cancelosi 2022 |
Austin Brady was born in the cold midwestern town of Gaylord, Michigan and lived the majority of his life in the Detroit area. He received his BFA from the College for Creative Studies in Detroit, Michigan with a concentration in painting, and received his MFA in Painting from the University of Notre Dame with a minor in Gender Studies. He is also an alum of the Redbull House of Art residency, and has been exhibiting nationally, including the South Bend Museum of Art, Snite Museum of Art at Notre Dame, Field Projects, Vantage Art Projects, and KO studio gallery. He currently resides in Detroit with his loving partner Lyndsay, and his dumb cats Renaissance and Goose. He enjoys cheeseburgers, Dungeons & Dragons, and music most would consider aggressive and unlistenable.
www.austin-brady.com
All images of artwork courtesy of the artist.
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