Interview with Artist D.C. Maddox - Part I
Tell us about your background and introduction to art.
I had some dinosaur books when I was a child, as well as a book on sharks and another one showing ancient mysteries of the world like the great pyramids. In time, I discovered sci-fi and fantasy books from J.R.R. Tolkien, Frank Herbert, and H.P. Lovecraft.
One day my mother took me to a local shop which had a large selection of comics on the shelves, and while browsing through this stuff I came across the pulp horror magazines, Creepy and Eerie. I think Ken Kelly had done the cover on one of them, and I was just instantly enthralled. Over time I built up a treasure trove of these horror mags at home which I read over and over, and eventually I discovered Metal Hurlant and Heavy Metal as well. This stuff was sort of fringe back in those days, and owning them as a kid kind of made me feel like I was part of a secret club or something.
I obsessed over the art on those covers, and sometimes that would lead me to attempt to sketch out my own ideas in a similar style. To me, those magazines were like a little window into this strange alternate dimension. And let’s be honest, what boy doesn’t want to live in a world filled with monsters, aliens, crazy castles, and wild space women dressed in leather suits and armed with laser guns!
So the pulp horror comics of the ‘70s were sort of a gateway drug for you into the world of fantastic art?
Yes, exactly.
I still own a handful of those original magazines, and even after all these years they still serve as inspiration. No doubt, the combination of warped stories and bizarre art did all sorts of interesting things to my eight-year-old brain.
What made you want to become an artist?
Growing up in the era of Frank Frazetta, Boris Vellejo, and Moebius, I idolized those guys. Their creations seemed like a kind of real-world sorcery to me, and I wanted to learn something of those dark arts.
In time, I discovered H.R. Giger, Max Ernst, and Zdzisław Beksiński. It’s hard to overstate the impact this latter group had on me, as their work greatly expanded my conception of what art could be. I owe them all a great debt of gratitude.
How did you begin?
I’ve always been fascinated by authors and artists who are world builders, and drawing has always been an important way for me to indulge my creative impulses, though it can take a lot of different forms. For example, in my teens I was introduced to the world of pen and paper role-playing games, and that inspired me to create a whole series of hand-drawn adventure maps which I shared with friends and fellow gamers. These were detailed maps of all the most dangerous hidden dungeons, secret temples, and ruins on the fringes of forbidden wastes.
Drawing maps and monsters for RPG games was a great way to begin drawing.
How would you describe your own art style and creative approach?
I’m not a realist painter, so I don’t feel constrained to adhere to the limitations or boundaries of any particular process or style. Fundamentals such as color, composition, and perspective are important, but only to the extent that they serve my artistic agenda. Because for me, the process of painting is more about sharing feelings or ideas rather than accurately recording observations.
I seem to be compelled to probe the dark corners at the periphery of my consciousness. Some people may find such images nightmarish or morbid, but I find a strange, almost hypnotic beauty in these things. In my experience, the beautiful and the disturbing often overlap.
Simply put, I feel my job is to follow my imagination wherever it leads and share what comes out in the most honest way possible. This approach to uninhibited painting is my own interpretation of surrealism. You might call my style a type of dystopian surrealism.
Can you explain surrealism?
Surrealism originated in the early 1920s, first as a literary and cultural movement, and eventually as a visual art which sought to release the subconscious from the limitations of rational thought. The principal aim was to somehow reconcile or combine the differences and contradictions between dreams and reality, essentially creating what might be considered an absolute super-reality, or surreality.
In other words, one could argue the visions and truths expressed in surrealism are more real than actual reality. How’s that for deep!
But how is it possible to paint something from the subconscious?
One approach is automatism, which is a technique borrowed from the early surrealist writers.
The basic idea with automatism is to clear the mind of the clutter of rational thought as much as possible, with the goal being to produce a spontaneous outpouring of highly imaginative creativity without any pre-existing concepts or preliminary sketches.
I expand on this topic in Surrealism and the Automatic Drawing Technique.
So by using this technique, the artist is surprised at what comes out on the canvas?
To an extent, yes.
As I explain in the article above, there’s a lot more to it than just blindly making random marks and hoping something interesting appears. In painting this way, the artist is attempting to combine developed ideas from the waking mind with impulses from the subconscious, ideally creating something unique which wouldn’t have otherwise been possible.
Automatism is one of many techniques which I incorporate into my works. Some paintings start off using some form of automatism, but others come after a series of concept sketches and color studies to flesh out the idea. In short, some paintings are the result of many spontaneous revisions and ideas layered together while others are meticulously planned out. I don’t follow any particular rules.
Where do you get the ideas which get incorporated into your paintings?
From things encountered in the everyday world, as well as dreams, daydreams, and lots of loose sketches. I also get inspiration travelling to historical sites and other interesting places. I’ve photographed many old churches and temples, the catacombs beneath Paris, medieval castles, a torture museum, Roman ruins, and cemeteries from all over the world.
Most of my paintings are composed of things which are completely made up from my imagination. However, I sometimes incorporate bits and pieces of reference materials from my studio just to see where that takes me.
What kind things do you use as references?
I don’t remember exactly when it all started, but over the years my studio has slowly morphed into a cabinet of curiosities of sorts, or a form of dark academia. I’ve accumulated pieces of art, strange books, occult objects, old tarot cards, chemical warfare masks, and other assorted oddities. There are also rarities such as megalodon teeth, bones of various sorts, and human anatomical displays. I sometimes rescue taxidermy pieces which I have given a new home in my studio.
Many of these items have a story of some kind associated with them, and that kind of background makes them more interesting. I’m most comfortable painting in this kind of environment.
So the studio itself is a part of your painting process?
Unquestionably.
We’re living in a period of rapid technological change and uncertainty, and my studio is important because it helps me disconnect from the real world and immerse myself in this other place of my own creation. At times, the distinction between studio and art becomes blurred and I work on both almost simultaneously.