Artist Spotlight: September, 2023

Andrae Green

Green’s exhibit, “Palindrome: Back to Hope” was on display from November 12, 2023 through February 11, 2024.

---

Tell us a little about your background.

I was born in Kingston, Jamaica, into a family deeply rooted in faith and community. My father, a dedicated pastor, was an extraordinary self-made man who tirelessly provided for our family. My mother was equally devoted to faith, and our family life revolved around the church. However, the area in Kingston where I grew up, and where my family still resides, was plagued by violence. I witnessed clashes between the police, “gunmen,” and rival political factions from a young age. To cope with the turmoil around me, I found solace in comic books and the church, which served as my refuge.

During my formative years, my exposure to art was limited to cartoons such as Batman, Superman, and Spiderman. It wasn’t until I attended art school that I discovered the world of painting, encountering my first painting at the National Gallery of Jamaica—a captivating piece titled The Fishing Village by Barrington Watson.

My journey as an artist has been profoundly shaped by a traumatic period during Jamaica’s economic downturn in the ’80s and ’90s. Prior to this crisis, I lived in a world brimming with possibilities. However, the abrupt shift into poverty due to the economic turmoil left an indelible mark on me. While my family and much of our social circle were considered “middle middle class,” the economic downturn pushed us down the ladder. This wasn’t unique to my family; Jamaica as a whole faced similar challenges after accepting aid from the International Monetary Fund. This shift in our status implanted a subconscious sense of limitation that influenced my approach to life and creativity.

Today, my artistic focus revolves around revisiting that tumultuous time while reimagining a different outcome—one defined by self-determination, hope, and boundless imagination. This theme feels particularly pertinent now as I navigate through challenges presented by a struggling economy, reminiscent of what my family endured in the past.

As I reflect on Jamaica’s troubled history, memories of the clash between Michael Manley’s socialist policies and the Reagan administration’s approach come to mind. The resulting instability, fueled by CIA-backed drug money, ushered in violence and political unrest that deeply affected my community and my personal journey. Many individuals, including those close to me, were compelled to leave the country due to limited opportunities. Today, I find myself facing a similar situation. With a young family and aspirations for a brighter future, I sense a weight of responsibility to break free from the cycle of limited opportunities that my father encountered.

The concept of life as a circle resonates profoundly with me, reminiscent of beliefs held by ancient tribes. It’s as if I am destined to confront the challenges my father could not overcome and elevate my family’s circumstances. Despite moments of doubt when I consider the current state of affairs in America, I firmly believe that my talents and education can guide me towards a more promising future. Although my connection to Massachusetts may be minimal, I am determined to build the life my father would have wished for me, aiming to fulfill a portion of his unrealized dreams. This sense of purpose propels me forward on my artistic journey, in the pursuit of positive impact, much like my father did in his time.

When did you know you were an artist? 

My journey to fully embrace the identity of an artist and recognize the role of art in my life was a winding path, taking up a significant portion of my life. Despite its inherent ease, accepting this truth proved to be a challenging endeavor. It wasn’t until I reached the age of 38, with the arrival of my son, that I wholeheartedly embraced the “call” of being an artist. The Renaissance writers referred to it as “il terribile,” describing the possession of Michelangelo by the spirit of art.

In my younger days, I consistently indulged in drawing. My brother and I dedicated our summers to replicating Spider-Man comic books, striving to capture the essence of the comic artists’ style. Beyond mere imitation, what truly captivated me was the liberating sensation I experienced while drawing—especially when crafting my own original figures. A vivid memory stands out: at around the age of 10, my father challenged me to reproduce an image of an American fighter jet from a magazine. Though I meticulously recreated the image to his astonishment and pride, I missed the exhilaration that accompanies true creation. My initial artistic spark waned, and later, I faced disappointment after failing the most significant art exam in the Caribbean, which led me to abandon art.

Art remained a paradox for me—a source of freedom yet a puzzle regarding practicality. The question of whether it could sustain me financially lingered. My father, particularly skeptical of art as a viable pursuit, believed it wouldn’t yield a stable income. In contrast, my mother was steadfast in her support, procuring comics and art supplies. An amusing dichotomy emerged—while my father would temporarily confiscate my art supplies, urging me to read, my mother would quietly return them once he left. In retrospect, this tug-of-war shaped the artist within me. It fueled my continuous exploration of reading, drawing, and imagining. Today, my work predominantly intertwines history, learning, and imaginative creations.

During high school, my aim was to attend the Edna Manley College of Art, but my poor performance on the entrance exam dealt me a blow. Over the following two years, I labored relentlessly to meet the prerequisites for college, and ultimately succeeded. Upon entering undergrad, a remarkable shift occurred and I felt a genuine sense of belonging and camaraderie. For the first time, I felt at home, surrounded by my people. Prior to this, I often felt out of place—whether at home, church, or even in Jamaica itself. Subsequently, I was awarded a grant by the now defunct Chase Fund to pursue higher education at the New York Academy of Art in the USA.

My time in New York profoundly transformed me on both mental and emotional levels. It propelled me to new heights, and it was during this period that I crossed paths with my wife. Our union blossomed, and five years into our marriage, we welcomed our first child, Judah. While art was a constant in my life, it wasn’t until the impending arrival of my son that something clicked. The desire to become a role model for him ignited within me, and the decisive moment arrived when I consciously chose to be an artist. The undercurrent of this sentiment had been present throughout my life. Had I always found joy in creating? Absolutely. However, it was a calculated decision, marked by the birth of my son, that propelled me into action.

Today, I stand as a testament to the power of embracing one’s calling and nurturing the artist within. This journey, though long and occasionally challenging, has ultimately culminated in a sense of purpose and fulfillment that propels me to create and inspire.

Was there a pivotal moment for you?

A turning point that truly defined my journey as an artist occurred when my son was on the brink of entering the world. I realized that pursuing art wasn’t just an option—it was a necessity. Until then, art had been an ever-present part of my life. As I’ve mentioned previously, I had achieved accolades in the field, completed a master’s program, and more. Yet I still grappled with uncertainty about my abilities and whether I truly desired this path. This, I believe, is the artist’s mind at work—a tendency to overthink and ponder endlessly, often caught in a cycle of self-examination.

The impending arrival of my son, Judah, introduced a new dimension of motivation. Another factor also played a significant role—an inquiry my father posed shortly before his passing. The moment is etched in my mind. The clock had just struck 8 pm, and he had returned home after dedicating the entire day to his role as a pastor. Immersed in his Bible, he called me into his room and posed a question that has lingered in my thoughts for two decades: “Andrae, what can you say you have achieved in your life?” At that time, my relationship with him was complex; our interactions were often distant, and I harbored feelings of resentment towards him. The question only served to deepen the rift between us.

I now recognize that the birth of my son and the weight of my father’s question from years ago hold immense significance in shaping who I am today. They became pivotal forces that guide my journey as an artist.

Where do you find inspiration?

My wellspring of inspiration stems from a harmonious blend of my family, faith, interpersonal connections, and the socio-political landscapes I observe in the world. Furthermore, I draw inspiration from the rich tapestry of art history, including both timeless masterpieces from the past and contemporary artistic expressions. One striking example of this interplay is seen in my artwork, Figure in Repose with Two Sharks, where the conceptual foundation originates from Damien Hirst’s renowned piece, The Impossibility of Conceiving Death in the Mind of the Living. Another instance is my creation, Stoic Whales (2016), which was directly inspired by David Lynch’s cinematic creation, Mulholland Drive.

Presently, my artistic focus revolves around the “Divers” series, which was kindled by a question posed by my father two decades ago: “What have you accomplished in your life so far?” This query continues to resonate within me, driving me to explore life’s complexities, aspirations, and obstacles through the metaphor of diving. This series delves into diverse facets of existence, including fear, failure, ambition, and joy, all conveyed against the backdrop of water—an element symbolizing my father’s attempts to teach me to swim, an endeavor where my proficiency never matched his expectations.

As a new chapter unfolded with the birth of my son, Judah (born in 2017), and my aspirations became more pronounced. I sought to become someone he could look up to with pride. To lend a concrete framework to this aspiration, I drew from a cherished childhood memory: my family’s Sunday trips to Kingston harbor for ice cream, where I observed local boys leaping into the harbor’s enigmatic depths. This poignant image of their enthusiastic dives amid an environment adorned with repurposed materials and discarded objects profoundly resonated with me. Despite their surroundings, these boys emanated excitement, exhilaration, and hope. This portrayal has functioned as a wellspring of imagination, calming my apprehensions while infusing me with optimism.

Within my ongoing series, I embark on a cyclic dialogue between my late father and my young son. Through these artworks, I endeavor to engage in conversations that never occurred during my father’s lifetime and to impart life lessons for my son’s future. The backdrop for these exchanges is a reimagined rendition of Kingston harbor, a location that encapsulates my formative memory of resilient boys plunging into its waters—a metaphor for surmounting life’s adversities. Through these artistic expressions, I delve into the intricate dynamics of familial connections and emphasize the significance of transmitting wisdom and experiences across generations.

What is your favorite medium?

My default mediums are drawing and painting, as they’ve been integral to my artistic journey. Drawing has been a natural inclination for me for as long as I can remember—it’s a language that flows effortlessly from my creative core. Yet, it is painting that holds an exceptional place in my heart. The allure of painting captivates me on multiple levels: the historical connections, the philosophical depth, the malleability of the medium, and most importantly, the journey it takes me on.

In the realm of painting, every stroke guides you on a unique journey. My mentor, Vincent Desiderio, aptly terms it “Going to Hell and Back.” Each canvas becomes a portal to what the poet St. John of the Cross referred to as the “dark night of the soul.” This phase isn’t an indication of weakness or failure, but rather a pivotal step in spiritual growth and transformation. It’s a period of shedding attachments, confronting profound truths about oneself and the divine. Moreover, it’s a juncture where one can discover heightened faith, hope, and love, emerging with a richer intimacy with the divine. Embracing and navigating the dark night of the soul necessitates courage and trust; it leads to the dawn of renewal—a new life, a new day, and a renewed self.

Painting grants me the platform to methodically and thoughtfully unravel ideas, ultimately arriving at a personal truth that resonates both intellectually and emotionally. Within the confines of painting, I wield a scalpel to excise my internal demons—fears and anxieties rooted in the world. Surrendering to the process of painting is akin to undergoing a transformation that propels me into a new state of being.

What truly elevates painting for me is its unparalleled plasticity. Picasso astutely remarked, “Painting is a blind man’s profession. He paints not what he sees, but what he feels, what he tells himself about what he has seen.” Painting transcends limitations—it embraces everything and anything. It’s a realm where creativity reigns supreme, and one can utilize diverse elements to craft a visual narrative. This unfettered freedom is what resonates most profoundly with me and cements painting’s cherished place in my artistic repertoire. 

Can you describe your process?

My artistic process is intricately intertwined with the pursuit of uncovering my personal truths. Typically, inspiration strikes in the form of mental images or reflections on familial experiences—each of these images represents a question about life, a query for which I seek answers.

To begin, I prefer translating these mental snapshots into small drawings. I find that immersing myself in the composition’s structure is paramount before venturing into the realm of color. The art of composition holds immense fascination for me. It’s where I intricately weave the layers of my intended messages, subtly embedding the narratives and emotions I aim to evoke in the viewer. Once the foundational drawing takes shape, I transition to crafting a “bozzetto,” a small-scale mock-up or preliminary painting that guides me before I embark on the main work.

Subsequently, I delve into the creation of concise sketches, each dedicated to a specific element within the composition—whether it’s a figure or an object. These sketches are building blocks for the entire imaginative landscape I’m aiming to manifest. Over the past year or so, I’ve introduced another layer to my creative process—constructing a digital composite of the composition. This recent addition enhances my ability to visualize the final piece, enabling me to refine the nuances before I commit them to canvas.

Once these preparatory steps are meticulously accomplished, the true creative journey commences—a journey I often liken to a crucible, where the fusion of ideas, emotions, and artistic techniques melds into a singular expression.

Is there anything else you’d like us to know about your work?

My intention is for my work to spark a challenging introspection within the viewers, inciting them to confront thought-provoking questions. Can one transcend their circumstances? How can we fully embrace the present moment? Is it possible to be one’s true self without compromise? How can I contribute to addressing the socio-economic and political issues that impact not only myself but also my community?

In addition to encouraging this self-examination, I aspire for my art to kindle a sense of hope—a vision of a promising future. This hope, nestled within my heart, drives me to create. I firmly believe that hope imbues life with purpose and significance. Through my artistic endeavors, I strive to inspire this very hope, fostering a brighter tomorrow that’s grounded in our collective efforts to better our world.

Read about other artists on the Meet the Artists page.