Pandora's Box + The Tomb Artist Feature: Jerry Liu

Pandora’s Box and the Tomb, our latest exhibitions, opened at Light Grey Art Lab this June. Each show features adventurous, mysterious, and fantastical works centered around the ideas of what might come out of Pandora’s Box, and what might we find hidden in a tomb. These exhibitions are also part of a large-scale international art swap, where each participating artist gets an edition of each other’s works in the mail.

You can view all works in the exhibition on our website! Click here for Pandora’s Box and click here for the Tomb.

Jerry Liu– who also contributed work to our previous project, World Roulette– participated in both art swaps and exhibitions. He is a visual development and character design artist, currently living in Portland with his two cats. We asked Jerry a few questions about his work for the exhibition as well as his personal and professional artworks. Let’s dive in!

Hi Jerry! Tell us about yourself and your artistic practice.

I was born and raised in Sichuan, China. Growing up, I always loved doodling on the wall of my parent's house, and drawing always brought a sense of satisfaction and calmed me down. However, I never considered art as a lifelong career at that time; after all, there’s no artistic gene in my family. But everything changed after I graduated from high school. I started to think about my future, and it’s hard to see myself in a future without creativity. I repeatedly asked myself, where do I see myself in the future. And in the end, I can’t hide my passion for art and animation, so I made a reckless decision to follow my heart to pursue my dream in animation.

In the end, I decided to go to San Francisco and study at the Academy of Art University to study Visual Development, where I met some amazing teachers and inspiring friends. After graduation, I was lucky enough to join LAIKA, where I have always dreamed of ever since I was little. So I packed my packages and moved to Portland. I was so amazed by the talented artists there. When I look back to the bold decision to pursue animation, I’m really glad for that big step.

“Seal the Box” by Jerry Liu for Pandora’s Box

“The Tomb” by Jerry Liu for the Tomb

You participated in both of our recent international artist swaps and exhibitions, Pandora’s Box and the Tomb. Can you tell us more about the works you created for each show?

First of all, this was an amazing experience and I’m so grateful to participate in both exhibitions. Pandora’s Box seems a valuable “present” but also a curse and unexpected troubles, and the story of Pandora’s Box is very poetic to me. John William Waterhouse and Gustav Klimt are some great influences to me; the women and their brush strokes are so dreamy, romantic yet powerful, and this is exactly how I imagine Pandora’s Box. So I wanted to illustrate a version of Pandora that corrects her own mistake and takes her responsibility and seals the box.

I was obsessed with movies that related to the tomb, it’s thrilling, adventurous, and mysterious, so I just naturally drew to this exhibition. I love drawing on Photoshop, but there’s some traditional artwork charm that harder to show in digital artwork, such as rough texture and flaw. But imperfection makes it perfect, and I just want to include that in my artwork as well, so I added some texture to show gold leaf effect. And the result is far better than I expected.

What things outside art help shape your artistic practice? Hobbies, quotes, books, places?

I love taking a walk after dinner and exploring different neighborhoods, and since I moved to Portland, I started hiking with my friends, and it’s always helpful just go out and see the world. Things inspire me anytime and anywhere– it can be some kids’ chalk doodles on the path, or light shining through the forest and casting some random spot, or an ancient object from a local museum.

What drew you into the field of visual development?

I love cartoons and films, and I love the creative world that is beyond our reality. And I watched a lot of animations and every time, I just can’t stop thinking of the artists behind those genius works. Animation has countless possibilities and creativities– those imaginary worlds gave me whole new perspectives and visions. So after high school, I decided to study what I have been passionate about, so I went to San Francisco to study animations. At first, I got to learn both animation and visual development, and in the end, I just knew that I’m more drawn to design and to be creative, so I decided to focus on Visual Development.

What plans do you have for your work in the future? Any upcoming projects coming that you can speak about?

I think people are my favorite things to draw; I’d love to create more memorable character designs and tell a good story. And besides studio work, I’m always trying to improve my character design, and soon, I will publish an art book in China, called “Drawings From Saturday”. It’s a book that included most of the drawings I did in my spare time or after work. The book is more like a combination of doodles and polished work, because I used to get upset easily over some crappy drawings, and my friend told me don’t get stressed out about imperfection and don’t get overly protective about the drawing, and just keep drawing, art is a journey not a goal, so just enjoy the present and be creative. So I just want to deliver the same idea in this art book.

What is your workspace like? What about your space creates a good environment for your practice?

My workspace is very minimal– Mac, tablet, notebook, and some art prints on the wall. I get distracted easily if I have too much thing going on, so I always try to keep my workspace neat and clean. So I can be more focused. But I recently find some cool plants, maybe I will get some in my workspace, haha.

What advice would you give to an artist who is dealing with artist block?

I think art block is hard for everyone; I often ask my friends and seems like everyone has a different approach. Personally, I will go look at the different art forms, such as photography, floral arrangement, or just go Pinterest and browse random stuff and get inspired. Practicing gesture drawing is something I do often during art block, I will just use the cheapest printing paper and just doodle stuff, sometimes a good film will be a boost to inspire me to draw. I think the most important thing is not stressing out in art block, just enjoy what you like and find something that inspires you.

In your own experience, what are the characteristics of a good artist?
I think art is very subjective, and art comes in different forms, and various expressions. It’s hard to say for each artistic approach. But as a visual development artist, I think a solid foundation, a good understanding of the pipeline, and good teamwork. Animation is teamwork and as part of the team, being good at cooperating, taking feedback, and fixing it is very important.

Where can people find more of your work?

You can find my works on my Twitter, Instagram, and website!

Thanks, Jerry! Best of luck on your work and future projects!

Artist Interview: John Lee

As the Station Zero show comes to a close, we wanted to take one last opportunity to speak to participating artist John Lee. John Lee is an incredibly talented illustrator, with clients that include National Geographic, FedEx, Harmonix, and The National Park Service. We wanted to ask John about his influences, experiences and process behind his gorgeous and expressive work. And of course we couldn't help talking about his favorite aspects of Science Fiction.


Hi John! I know you're not local to Light Grey Art Lab, so where are you from? Where'd you grow up and do you think your surroundings playing a large role in your career as an artist?

I grew up in Memphis, TN and am absolutely influenced by the South. My childhood was spent playing war in the Memphis summer evenings, surrounded by fireflies and honeysuckle, watching kung-fu movies after eating home-made fried chicken at family gatherings, and drawing spaceships on x-ray backing boards with fruit-scented markers.

I always drew a lot as a kid, and my parents picked up on that at an early age. They exposed me to a lot of Caldecott award winning children's books, comics like Calvin & Hobbes, and traditional Chinese art collected by my grandparents or family friends. I also remember trying to duplicate the visuals from the video games that my brother and I would play (since we could only play a certain amount every week).

Currently, I find myself thinking a lot about the South in terms of my specific racial experiences within it when I was growing up. Memphis is a city with a deep and complex history when it comes to race relations-- after all, it's the city where Martin Luther King Jr. was murdered, and where rock was born from the blending of black and white musical traditions. However, I'm a 2.5 generation Chinese/Filipino, and there weren't a lot of kids who looked like me in school. There also wasn't really a place for Asian-Americans to fit into the larger common narrative of black/white racial history in the South, even if they were just as affected by prejudice as any other group. Recently, I've been doing a lot of research through museums and first hand accounts of family members, trying to piece together just how complex this history is.

I guess what I mean to say is that I think artists should reflect the times in which they live. And I think as illustrators, it's always best to inform your work, not just stylistically, but through content, with personal stories and experiences. You hear this idea tossed around as finding visual distinction through one's illustration "voice." Right now I'm mining my own formative experiences for -- something. Somewhere in this weird intersection of X-Men comics, Super Metroid, Han-dynasty guardian lions, dogwood trees, cicada broods, and schoolyard scraps, there's a story to be told that is currently influencing my trajectory as an artist.


In process work by John Lee

I see you're an instructor at the Memphis College of Art! What attracts you to teaching?

I actually just quit teaching at MCA this summer, so my website is a little out of date--which I apologize for! I had the privilege of teaching there for 2 years, and taught foundational level courses for illustration (composition and color), as well as a senior-level portfolio development and professional practice course.

I think what I love the most about teaching is that I get to share. You can sit in your studio and just absolutely geek out about a color temperature shift in a Winslow Homer piece, and then bring it into the classroom where everyone not only gets it, but is just as excited about it as you are. This idea of being unapologetically ecstatic about things that you love is essential for leading a creative lifestyle. It's also the lynchpin that binds the illustration community together, and why I feel like illustrators are some of the nicest people out there.

Additionally, for me teaching is one way to pay it forward. I remember when I was first starting out as an illustrator, I was fresh out of school with a tangential degree and nothing but a barely functional ability to draw. I was referred to Nathan Fox, who was living in Kansas City at the time, and I dropped him a line for lack of any other options really. Nathan was really awesome, invited me over to his studio, and essentially got me set up. He did a review of the work that I had cobbled together as a "portfolio", showed me how he interacted with clients, and even went so far as to give me some of the documents that he used to for invoicing and contracts. It was the crash course that got me started, and I owe a lot to him because of it.

So when I would interact with students, I would try and keep that experience in mind. What did I want to know at that stage in the game? What did I need to know? Every student's path and style of learning is different, and my knowledge base is only so deep, so I definitely felt like I had varying degrees of success as a teacher. But at the end of the day, I wanted to feel like I helped someone towards their larger goal in some small way. Because everyone deserves that chance, and maybe one day they'll pay it forward to someone else.


Typography process for Station Zero by John Lee

That seems like a really wonderful and generous approach. So if you could give one word of advice to anyone who's just starting out, trying to be a successful freelance artist, what would it be?

My very first piece of advice would be to be careful on whose advice you internalize. Know the context in which people's experiences are formed. In my case, I still consider myself a journeyman illustrator in a lot of ways, and that I still have a lot to learn and a ways to go in terms of my career.

My second piece of advice for students and artists just starting out would be to reevaluate what your definition of success is. Decide what your goals are within art, or illustration, or whatever, and use that as your true north for every decision that you make here on out. Maybe you want a Ferrari one day. Maybe you want to write a children's book that changes how a whole generation thinks about storytelling. Maybe you want to settle down and have a few kids.

Whatever it is, be honest about what you want and then go for it with all of your being. I think about an awesome interview with Bruce Lee that I heard: "When you want to move, you're moving, and when you move, you are determined to move. (If) I'm going to punch, man I'm going to do it."


Process for Station Zero Show by John Lee

From looking at your work it seems like you like to draw everything under the sun! Is there any one subject that you like drawing the most and why?

For a while, I was really into drawing little feral Mononoke-hime-like kids. I like to draw foliage, and also rocks because I'm boring. I've also been drawing little cartoon sheep since I was in 4th grade, and I use them currently for my "branding." But mostly, I just like drawing people. And I don't really mean figure drawing in the academic sense. Honestly, anatomy, muscle groups, etc. kind of bores me to death. I mean drawing people in a way that captures some kind of honest expression or story. I think Harvey Dunn said to his students something along the lines of "if you want to paint the people, you must become one of the people." Sterling Hundley put it another way in a critique at the Illustration Academy when he said "the great unwashed masses are us." So, I really like just going out in different situations and drawing people as much as I can.

You post on your blog a lot of images of you doing observational drawings in your sketchbook at museums and other inspiring places. What about drawing from real life do you enjoy most, and what is your favorite environment to make art?

For me, drawing is much more effective at capturing an experience than say, photography. When I look at a drawing that I've done, I can remember where I was, who I was with, whether the sun was on my face, or it was windy at the time. etc. It's probably a byproduct of having to invest a lot of time and concentration into making a drawing, as compared to simply clicking a button. Drawing is more personal, and becomes more than just reproducing what's in front of you. You have to constantly edit information, accentuating some things while downplaying others.

On a more technical note, drawing from observation allows you to perceive form, value, and color more precisely than from a photograph. These repetitions build muscle memory and strengthen your perceptual vocabulary, which you can then use back in the studio.

My favorite situation for drawing is when it starts a dialog. So like when I'm drawing, and someone who is into it comes says hi, and a conversation starts. I guess it goes back to that idea of liking things unapologetically.


Sketches by John Lee

What is your process like, and what materials do you typically use?

My current illustration process is in a lot of flux as I'm figuring things out currently. But in general, my finals are either some kind of linework with digital color, or messy digital paintings that are collaged together from scanned bits and scraps of all sorts of things like monotypes, palette paper scraps, blotting sheets, etc. On the digital side, I use an older 09 Macbook Pro, Wacom Intuos 4, PS CS6, and a Canoscan LiDE 600F scanner.

I'm a drawer first and foremost, so all of my painting sensibilities tend to emerge from that. For instance, I have a tiny Winsor & Newton watercolor set that I have for sketching, but most of the heavy lifting is done with Caran d'Ache Supracolor watercolor pencils. I use Nasutomo Niji water brushes, one with water and one with 60/40 ink and water, a technique I stole from James Gurney. But again, I really like them because they kind of remind me of scummy Chinese calligraphy pens. I also use a little Zebra ballpoint pen for drawing when I don't have anything else, because of James Jean.


John Lee's art making materials

Most your work has an amazing rough quality to it, but is still very recognizable and controlled, with beautifully harmonious color combinations. What are your biggest influences that have helped created you as an artist and how have they helped mold your style into what it is today?

I think in general, I don't like having absolute control over my imagery. I want things to surprise me and my drawing to have elements of tightness and looseness, all within the same image (which is funny considering I work mostly digitally). I love when you're looking at a John Singer Sargent painting, looking at all these chunky daubs of murky browns and blues, and then suddenly this beautiful portrait emerges from it. I love the idea behind Cezanne's paintings where you're giving just enough information and then your brain has to reconstruct the rest.

Absolute representation is already known. We know what something looks like when it's realistic. Where's the fun in that? I tend to focus much more heavily on composition and design than the actual rendering of things.

In terms of color, I heard it explained this way (by Jeffery Alan Love, again at the Illustration Academy): "There are those that have to sneak up on color, and there are those that explode it." My grasp on actual painting color theory is tenuous at best, so I tend to sneak up and "find" my color schemes halfway through my pieces. However, the undergrad printmaker in me comes out at certain times and says "if it's red, make it freaking' red" so that's why you'll see some pretty garish saturated colors in my drawings. I think it's important to be honest about your influences. It's terrible when people won't admit being influenced by someone, even when it's really obvious. I think it's also important to look at who your influences were influenced by. I look at and absolutely love a lot of work, but I find myself only really going back and looking at certain people. Chronologically, it goes something like: John Singer Sargent, Howard Pyle/Harvey Dunn/Dean Cornwell, Charley Harper, Coby Whitmore, James Gurney, Gary Kelley, Sterling Hundley, James Jean. Obviously, the more contemporary your influences are, the more dangerous it becomes.

Graduating with a BFA in Creative Writing, I'm sure you have a list of favorite books. What are some of them and if you read sci-fi novels what are some of your favorite of those as well?

My favorite book is One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. I don't know if it's not cool to like that book, or whatever, but man. I love the scale of that book, the weaving narratives, and beautiful matter-of-fact vignettes of the supernatural. Italo Calvino's Cosmicomics is on that list for much the same reason. And as a Southerner, I love Flannery O' Connor's A Good Man is Hard to Find. I actually don't read a whole lot of sci-fi! I think the last one I read before The Jewels of Aptor was A Canticle for Leibowitz, by Walter M. Miller. I get most of my sci-fi dosage from other media. So like, Battlestar Galactica, or the original Ghost in the Shell and Appleseed comics by Masamune Shirow, or incompetently dropping marines off to their deaths in an occasional game of Starcraft.

What about Sci-fi intrigues you, and how did that influence your approach to your cover?

My absolute favorite thing about science fiction is that it stretches our imaginations. How many scientists, programmers, physicists, etc. discovered their passion by watching something like Star Trek or Star Wars as a kid? I also love science fiction when it can make an otherwise fantastic situation feel emotionally real. A series like Battlestar Galactica does that really well-- it forces us to engage with the story in terms that we can all relate to. For my cover, I chose to show one of the main characters, the White Goddess Argo, as the figurehead on the bow of an old frigate. The Jewels of Aptor is a post-apocalyptic story, so there's been a tech reset for the surviving humans/mutants and they use old sailing technology to get around. The true identity of Argo is constantly in question throughout the entire story, so I wanted her to feel kind of ambiguous as to whether she was actually a carved figurehead, or if there was some actual life behind her. I also wanted to use the heavy drapery to tie her back to a previous period in art history, to suggest that the world that the book is describing is actually one that we know very well.

Thanks again to John for taking the time to chat with us! You can find more from John Lee on his website, on tumblr and on twitter @johnleedraws.

Podcast: Talking With Daniel Fishel & James O'Brien

Although the You Can Do It, Put Your Back Into It exhibition ended last Friday, for this week's podcast we seek advice and encouragement from a couple of talented illustrators who have made it a point to stay creative, inspired and motivated.


In the first half of the show, we chat with New York City-based illustrator Daniel Fishel about determination, overcoming mighty odds, and finding a positive edge to the tough parts of being an illustrator. Daniel has been a huge advocate for up-and-coming illustrators through his very active online presence and his participation in various creative panels.

Daniel's work can be found here on his website and his tumblr.


For the second half of the show, we have a great conversation with Twin Cities-based James O'Brien about his 20+ year career as a professional illustrator, as well as his experience as both an instructor and mentor in his time teaching, advising and leading in collegiate-level education. Jim addresses some insightful strategies for overcoming fear, the benefits of a visual journal, and some incredibly thoughtful advice on how to keep going if you really want to be in a creative field.

To see more of James' work, visit his website and blog.

Download the MP3 or Subscribe via iTunes!

Talking With Daniel Fishel & James O'Brien
Length: 01:20:09
Synopsis: As the You Can Do It, Put Your Back Into It exhibition ends, we seek advice and encouragement from a couple of talented illustrators who have made it a point to stay creative, inspired and motivated. In the first half of the show, we chat with New York City-based illustrator Daniel Fishel about determination, overcoming mighty odds, and finding a positive edge to the tough parts of being an illustrator. Daniel has been a huge advocate for up-and-coming illustrators through his very active online presence and his participation in various creative panels. For the second half of the show, we have a great conversation with Twin Cities-based James O'Brien about his 20+ year career as a professional illustrator, as well as his experience as both an instructor and mentor in his time teaching, advising and leading in collegiate-level education. Jim addresses some insightful strategies for overcoming fear, the benefits of a visual journal, and some incredibly thoughtful advice on how to keep going if you really want to be in a creative field.

Interview with Tom Cassidy

This week we're hosting a guest performance/lecture by Tom Cassidy, a local artist and expert on mentalism, mail art, slam poetry and linguistics. His fascinating and unusual work has been featured globally, from publications to performances. To get a little taste of what's to come, we asked Tom a few questions about his work and process.

Can you share a little bit about your history and involvement with the literary and poetry communities? 

I’ve been an active mail-artist since 1970 and have accumulated over 30,000 pieces of correspondence art–pre-zine-culture smallpress, postcards, poems, collages, drawings, pass-&-add sheets, etc. And I’ve been a contributor to dozens of alternative, underground and visual poetry smallpresses, from Modern Correspondence to Popular Reality, from Shavertron (a mostly serious zine based on cult-sci-fi-guy Ray Palmer’s belief that ancient aliens inhabit inner earth) to Joe Bob Brigg’s Drive-In Newsletter, from Lost & Found Times to the Portland Scribe (for which I wrote a column about correspondence art in the 70s). I co-founded the performance poetry troupe The Impossibilists and have shown or read at over one hundred galleries, festivals, bars and colleges; my works have been in over 200 shows blahblahblah (I didn’t participate for a resumé or batting average). I also hosted Open Mics for 25 years and heard over 12000 writers and folksingers as a type of penance.

When were your first introduced to mail-art, and what did you find most interesting about the culture of exchange? Can you also explain how it works?

I was first exposed to mail-art when I met by Dana Atchley (Ace Space Company) at California College of Arts & Crafts in 1973. Dana, a road-tripping documentarian of America’s cultural underbelly, was an early social networker and plugged me into The Eternal Network, which was what the great untethered hum of mail-artists was then called. I mailed drawings and manifestoes to folks whose work I saw in FILE magazine and slowly developed my own network with those whose works I enjoyed (including visual poet John Bennett with whom I still correspond and collaborate).  It was exhilarating, satiric, bolt-loosening, subversive and fun and it still is, though nowadays I only regularly correspond with about two dozen artists. I only noticed decades later that my network has a heavy bias towards concrete/visual poetry, stuff that’s anti-other stuff, and humor. As to how it all works? Inefficiently, with personal touches all over the connections, slowly, with carrier pigeons; and “with a lick, because a kiss wouldn’t stick.”

Is the work produced from this project your own? Everyone’s? A Collective? The last person to receive the piece?

Every mail-art piece is different or same-but-different and most envelopes I receive contain several folded visual poems or drawings and/or a very limited edition zine and/or a collage or a copy of a collage you add to then forward, maybe an artstamp sheet or a handwritten letter. I’ve received everything from a McDonald’s cheeseburger (address and postage on its yellow paper wrapper), to a bottle to throw in the ocean, to a rock in the mail. But mostly I receive mad chaotic missives from people I’ll never meet; it’s like being LinkedIn by your most aberrant gene. Many pieces are collaborations but, though they’re signed by all who add to the piece, who-did-what isn’t specified or consequential. I’ve kept pieces I was “supposed to” forward and have forwarded pieces I’d never want. Even decades ago, it wasn’t the wild west, it was and is what’s really going on among artists when they’re not getting all artsy, careering around and hustling for grants.

You said that most of the artists in the mail-art community are only known by their aliases or pen names. Is there a sense of achievement, seniority, or leadership amongst the community,or is all work just work? 

Originally the aliases added to the playfulness of the network and occasionally the name-itself was a large portion of the exchange (for example, correspondents named Occupant, Greet-O-Matic, RayJohnson’s New York CorreSpongeDance School). Though the movement (which of course was then an anti-movement) was an art-for-art’s-sake effort to share expressions outside the worlds of commerce and institutionalized art, the aliases weren’t bids for anonymity so much as alter-egos that superseded regular ground rules of communication and created exchanges in which gender, age, “art-status,” and, significantly, whereabouts didn’t matter. I was Space Angel for several years, before assuming the name I still use, Musicmaster. Over the years however I’ve participated in dozens of projects as other personalities, even using the names/alter-egos of other artists. I enjoy being an agitator, outsider and prankster because most things in our world need shaking down; and when I collaborate with (often drawing on top of works by) others, I feel a bit more anchored and part-of-something than I do when creating in isolation.

There is, alas, now a history of mail-art, with Ray Johnson as deity and a number of mail-art history books (I’ve contributed chapters to three of them), and hundreds of extensive museum and university archives. It may not be true that we all age into respectability, but many of us do, and too many of us embrace that.

What is your creative process like for making work?

I’ll read a piece about this–when I sit down to write I just draw–at the February 2 talk. I love process far more than product, and am so prolific that I occasionally knock out a homer. Much of my work is fueled by a mix of caffeine and beer.

Can you explain your connection between what you do on stage and what you do on paper, how your approach to art-making and language relate?

Though I enjoy performing what might be best described as stand-up poetry with trapdoors to hell, I’m very self-conscious on stage and play a character that’s crafted and rehearsed to seem more off-the-cuff and comfortable than I really am. Writing to escape the logic and baggage of language is difficult for me; no matter how randomized or chaotic my experimental pieces get, I usually feel the quicksand of linear logic, narrative, a need to explain things to a judge. My drawings are less inhibited; and while I sincerely want people to enjoy what I do when I’m on stage, I’m far, far less concerned about what they make of my artworks.