ArtSlant had the pleasure of talking with painter Daniel Dove about his work and process.

In painting modernity, what themes interest you?

That’s a broad and interesting question, and I interpret it in two senses: “painting modernity” as painting modern life, and “painting modernity” as making the physical object and process of painting explicit.  I’m interested in doing both simultaneously: making process and material explicit while also creating a convincing illusion of contemporary life, particularly the landscape.  These two impulses can be traced at least to Manet and competing interpretations of his work, as either paintings-about-process or paintings-about-life (to simplify it a great deal).

What is it specifically about the contemporary urban landscape that you are attracted to?

I am attracted to parts of the landscape that hope to be invisible or totally generic, like overgrown parking lots, family themed restaurants, and deteriorating factories.  It’s exciting when banal places become visually transformed by light, weather, strange juxtapositions, and the like- very much Edward Hopper’s terrain.  I like the battle between tactile materiality and disembodied symbols, as when a corporate logo (designed to convey exhaustively managed optimism) starts to decay and become covered in dirt or rust.  The contemporary built environment, densely populated with images and veneers, teeters between being a virtual and material place.  This is something I sometimes try to capture, in subject matter and by combining computer imagery, photography, and aspects of painterly abstraction.

You reference 19th Century painting in your work (among other influences), particularly the perspective points and the way you handle light so beautifully.  Can you tell me more about that?

I am attracted to many 19th century painters, particularly Manet, Courbet, and Constable.  The fusion of robust material surfaces with a really convincing sense of light is very attractive to me.  It’s also something to be careful about, given that it can become about crowd-pleasing virtuosity at the expense of more sensitive and penetrating content.  I really like the way that some of the aforementioned painters can have it both ways: wild process and utter control of form, as in a late Constable that has been whacked with a palette knife but still has a totally sophisticated sense of atmosphere and light.

While your paintings appear to have a controlled sensibility, up close they have random marks, drips and smears.  Can you elaborate on your process of painting?

I work from a variety of source material: manipulated photography, virtual 3D forms, and real models.  My paintings usually go through a developed sketch process, from pencil sketches to small painted versions.  So when I get to the canvas, there’s a highly structured intention already in place.  I use the painting process to open up the painting again, trying to get the slipperiness of paint to give me new ideas or provide unpredicted forms of resistance.  Having the painting collapse into an illustration of the original concept is something I try to avoid, and seeking a unique fusion between image and material manifestation is one way to work through that.

What is your earliest memory of art making?

I remember drawing police cars, the lower, wider, and boxier the better.  But the real early formative experience was seeing Star Wars and trying to possess its grandeur by drawing large complicated space wars.  I first mastered the Death Star, as it’s only a bumpy sphere.  X-wings were much more frustrating, but I worked on it and am pretty good at it now.

I am always interested in where work is made.  Can you describe where you make your work?

My studio is one bay in a row of roll-up garage-door corrugated metal units on a dead-end street in the industrial section, sort of like a place where you’d have your oil changed or store a hearse holding a jarred head.  A welder and the local baseball team have shops further down the row, and they look at me with suspicion every time they walk by.

Top Ten (List 10 things that influence or interest you)

1.    Other artists, alive and dead.  A professor of mine once said “you know it’s good if you feel threatened”. I’m not sure if he’s right, but I think about it often.
2.    Talking about art with passionate friends and students.
3.    Film, even if I spend about $40 per Netflix rental.
4.    Music recommended by students with stylish hair.
5.    Computer-generated imagery and forms.
6.    NPR
7.    Driving around with the “art eyes” on.
8.    Computer games (a fading interest).  Sometimes I play Grand Theft Auto just to watch the sunset.
9.    Shamefully, serious reading comes in at #9, but it hopes to make the final four by season’s end.
10.     More shamefully, shopping on Ebay for sneakers that I basically already own.