A sense of place has always been important to the artist. His studios have always provided inspiration in how these fictional get-togethers are formed. “My last studio of fifteen years was built in 1852, and there is a harness racing horse track down the hill and in full view when you look out the south-facing windows,” Gordon recalls. “The town had a track-folk vibe that birthed many characters. But the skeletons were a direct reaction to what I guess I’ll call a ghost or spirit. Not all time but many times while I would be painting, I would feel a presence behind me and the hairs on the nape of my neck would rise and there would be heavy pressure on my left shoulder. I’m left-handed. [It was] like someone was resting their hand on my shoulder and watching me paint. My father had just passed away, so I imagined it as him for the most part. I started putting skeletons in my painting to celebrate my invisible studio friends.”
He’s moved spots since, but the skeletons remain. “My new studio, while even older a building, has not had any ghosts,” he adds. “And the skeletons now are pretty much how I explore anatomy poses and how fabric rests on the body. They skeletons. They are the backbone. They are my most basic visual tool, but the most useful.”
Yet, the artist’s fascination with backdrops goes back much further than his studio tenures. Gordon was born in 1974, living just down the street from his cousins in Michigan. He remembers kids everywhere in that neighborhood, and says he probably played in each of the yards on his block growing up. He recalls this time as “the most amazing childhood. And the colors he remembers from the 1970s remains his go-to palette, and “those memories and remembered visuals are what keep me inspired now.” Gordon attended the Columbus College of Art and Design in the early 1990s before moving to the Center for Creative Studies in Detroit. Eventually, he became part of the RVCA Artist Network program, for which he’s designed apparel and installations. At his desk, depending on the medium, different emotions arise from creating. “Drawing is pure bliss to me,” Gordon says. “My acrylic paintings can be a struggle, as I know I can paint over and over them until I’ll get it right. Most paintings, I have painted each figure up to six times. The paintings are treated like a curio cabinet, and the drawings are posters to me.”
I started putting skeletons in my painting to celebrate my invisible studio friends.”