An interview with John Nieman by Angela Di Bello

HOW DO YOU HELP PEOPLE SEE WHAT THEY HAVE SEEN THEIR ENTIRE LIVES IN A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT WAY?
For me, that’s the challenge I tackle with every single piece of art. I tend to see ordinary, everyday objects and imagine unusual connections and meanings in those pieces. For example, what does it mean to be a life saver? What’s it take to be a
hard hat? Who has a crush? Are apples and oranges all that different from each other? Beyond the extra potassium, what are the characteristics of the great second banana? And then I try to capture my interpretation of the topic, in a way that combines a bold visual image, underscored with a list of free-associated names, thoughts, and phrases.

WHY THE COMBINATION OF WORDS AND VISUALS? ISN’T A PICTURE WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS?
The picture definitely must predominate, since we increasingly live in a visual world. But it’s undeniable that we also live in a multi-tasking, multi-image world. Every single day, we are bombarded with messages. Ever watch cable news? There are often two or three images on the screen, and a scroll of words running on the bottom. Somehow, we have become accustomed to processing all this information. We are able to order it in our mind, and self-select the most interesting, most relevant information.

I simply put that process into a two-dimensional piece.

Incidentally, I did not start out this way. My initial work was purely visual, mostly in the medium of pastels. I still love the medium, and usually do one or two new pieces a year in that style. But I began to gravitate towards a combination of pictures and underlying typed images. I started by painting over sheet music, and liked the effect and the layers of meaning. Gradually, I evolved into creating my own lists. I sometimes call them visual riddles. I have now done more than 90 in this series, and still have at least 20 more subjects in the pipeline.

WHICH COMES FIRST, THE PICTURE OR THE WORDS?
Neither. For me, it’s all about the concept or the idea. Sometimes, I’ll struggle with an anchoring visual. Sometimes, I’ll be stumped with the list. With the kind of work I create, that usually means it’s not a very good idea, so I scrap it or at least shelve it. I prefer to have a fully loaded, double-barrel approach. However, in the final analysis, it’s the picture that must pull the weight. It’s the picture that must attract and entice.
The list becomes a residual tickle that adds some extra layer of added meaning.

THERE IS A POP QUALITY TO YOUR WORK. INTENTIONAL?
Very intentional. From the very beginning, I absolutely adored Andy Warhol’s celebration of Brillo, Lichtenstein’s reinterpretation of comic book visuals. I also admired Duane Hanson’s celebration of middle-class mall people, and Edward Hopper’s sense of heroic, high-noon isolation. I just loved the fact that they could make me reexamine what I thought I saw every day.

But for me, the pop world is more than an artistic influence. I spent more than a few decades as the world-wide creative director of some big ad agencies. In that field, you are trained to glorify the mundane, and leverage popular culture. I was always bowled over by the fact that, even in the far reaches of the planet, more people knew Coca-Cola and Michael Jordan than the vice president of the United States or Nobel prize winners.

I freely admit to being a vulture of pop culture. Like most people today, it is our ongoing, addictive reality. Otherwise, why would we be riveted to the O.J. Trial, Anna Nichol’s death, and Michael Jackson’s will? It just interests us more than understanding the intricacies of health care. Consequently, I freely use their names, their acknowledged quotes, and other free-associated pop thoughts in my pieces. Sometimes, the references are a little obscure. I happen to like that, since a curve ball is always more provocative than the obvious straight line.

HOW DO YOU MARKET YOURSELF?
With some difficulty. Quite frankly, I so much prefer the creation of art to the business of “selling yourself.” And yet, I come from the marketing world, so I appreciate the importance of that.

To be perfectly honest, the greatest impetus I had was signing up for representation at Agora Gallery. Instantly, I thought to myself, “Oh, my god, what if I sell some? I better get busy and create some new work.” And so I did. The more I created the more outlets I needed. I began to enter more and more national and international shows. And I got in—not all of them, but a good percentage. For the past several years, I have been fortunate to be included in 7-8 juried shows a year. I set a goal of exhibiting work in every region of the country. Last year, I was also invited to exhibit in a German gallery. And next year, I will have a solo show sponsored by the city of Las Vegas.

And then I took some matters in my own hands. I published a book called “Art of Lists.” It included 45 of my paintings, and I accompanied each picture with a short verse which either explained my journey, or put a fun punctuation mark on it. I was reviewed well. It doesn’t sell much, but it’s a damn impressive piece to send to galleries. I am convinced that it has resulted in several shows.

I have now published my second book of art and poetry. Not surprisingly, it is called “Art of more lists.” I like doing these, if for no other reason than posterity. When I am no longer around, my kids will be able to share it with their as-of-yet unborn kids.

ARE YOU TORN BETWEEN PAINTING AND WRITING?
No. I want to do both. Always. I know this flies in the face of isolating priorities, and eliminating other distractions. But the fact is I love doing both too much to give up either one.

I have written novels. I wrote “The Wrong Number One,” which is about the music business. I also wrote “Blue Morpho,” which deals with kidnapping envy. It has been optioned for a screenplay, and I have written three versions so far. Welcome to the endless black hole of Hollywood! I have also just published a very cute children’s book called “The Amazing Rebating.” Unlike the darkly comic novels, this is adorable.

When I write it is consuming, and unbreakable. But I only do so when I feel the need for a “breather” from art.

So I create art non-stop for 9-12 months. And then I am exhausted. After some weeks, I then delve into writing for 6 months or so. And then I go back to art. And then I try something new with words. I am able to compartmentalize. More accurately, I can’t easily do both at the same time.

However, the yang-yang is very satisfying. I remember reading an article about Tony Bennett, who creates art and (obviously) sings. He says that as a result, he never really needs an escape vacation, since his competing passions provide that. I agree. However, a week in Rio might be nice.

WHAT IS YOUR PROCESS? HOW DO YOU CREATE A PIECE OF ART?
First, I think of the idea. I gain inspiration from the grocery aisles, the local hardware store, and yard sales. I come up with a theme, and an arresting visual. If I am satisfied with that, I come up with a list of luminaries, and usually have fun with that.
I have that list run off on cold-press watercolor paper, and take some reference photos of my still life idea. Thanks to EBay, I can find just about any props I ever want. If you can think of a prop (no matter how obscure), you can normally secure it for 75 cents more than the next bidder. Sometimes, I compile these reference photos for composition. Sometimes, I will use live reference, but I usually have some photographic reference, since I depend a lot on height/width dimension.

I used to paint in a quiet place in the basement. With four kids in the house, it’s the only place where I can hear no noise, and no requests to “take me to the movies.” I like the oasis, but the light is no good. Lately, I’ve moved my base of operation to the kitchen, which streams natural light. Sometimes, I paint outside, but the temptations of a suburban pool and gardens sometimes pull me away from the subject at hand.

I almost always secure scans high-quality; professional scans of my work, and occasionally run off prints. It’s rather expensive to do so, but I am still bedeviled to part with work with no personal record of the piece whatsoever.

WHAT IS YOUR MOST SATISFYING PART OF THE PROCESS?
The idea stage. And the final touches. I hate to admit it, but I don’t really love the mid-process. It still scares the shit out of me. With watercolor, I always worry that I will make an irrevocable mistake. Occasionally, I do, and throw away the uncompleted
painting. I’ve become better and recognizing when a piece isn’t going to “make it.”
I’ve also become better at a successful completion rate.

WHERE DO YOU COME UP WITH IDEAS?
Absolutely everywhere—in the grocery aisle, at the greengrocer, at the bar, at a restaurant. Recently, I thought of a piece called “Good fortunes,” at a Chinese restaurant, and couldn’t resist writing the list during my son’s graduation (shame on me). This is the curse of being creative. It can and should occur anytime, anyday, anywhere. Lately, my kids have been phoning in ideas—from London, from Philadelphia, from Santa Fe. It has become a family obsession.

GIVE US AN EXAMPLE OF ONE OF YOUR UNDERLYING LISTS
I had a kick creating this list for a piece I called, “…since sliced bread”.” I instantly came up with the visual: A glorious shot of everyday Wonder bread with shafts of light from God illumining this “gift to earth.” In contrast to this, I came up with a rather
Arbitrary list of the greatest inventions, at least in my opinion:

The personal computer. The ipod. The microwave. Anti-lock brakes. The Pill. The DVD. The VCR. Cell phones. Luggage with wheels.
Air conditioning. Antibiotics.The escalator. Digital photography.
The seedless Watermelon. Plastic. Television. The Internet.
Solar Power. Laser surgery. Contact lenses. Teflon. Velcro. ATM’s. answering machines. Snowboards. Wraps. Teleconferencing. The remote control. Power steering. Egg beaters. Polyester.
Hair extensions. Bottled water. Icemakers. Digital blackboards.
The three point play. Google. TIVO. Home-made, unsliced bread.

YOU SEEM TO HAVE HAD A LATE START IN THIS ART WORLD. ANY REGRETS?
Some misgivings, but no drastic regrets. I am now 60, but can hardly believe it. I was raised in a Midwestern, post-war, baby boomer “achiever” mentality. Consequently, I was driven to pursue creativity at a profit. I was fortunate enough to land a challenging job, and eventually create a financial future for 5 kids. For the most part, I gained much from that year. In retrospect, I wish I had chosen art 5-10 years earlier, but in the grand scheme of things, it’s inconsequential. I figure I still have 15-20 good productive years. I think art will actually extend my life. When I am given the chance to give advice to young kids, I do advise them to pursue art full time. This is driven by a late-life realization I have that “If you have god-given talent, you must pursue it. You have no option. No out. In fact, the only real “sin” in life is to have a creative gift, and squander it.”

WHEN IS IT TIME TO MOVE ON TO YOUR NEXT “STAGE?”
Not yet. When I told a respected fine artist I was ready to move on, he gave me sage advice. As long as you are in a fertile stage, thinking of new ideas, you are not
“done” with your current genre. You will tire of your current style before anyone else does. Stick with it until you are spent. Time will tell you when to move on.

DO YOU HAVE A NEXT “PHASE?”
Yes, but I am reluctant to express it until I do it. As any creative person knows, explaining before the fact eliminates the need to actually create/actualize the vision.

FAMOUS LAST WORDS?
Live creatively. Paint with a passion. Die happy.