Art . Artist Interviews . CultureOn October 27, 2019 by admin

Twenty years ago, I set out to become a teacher of the literatures that have given me the most—meaning, clarity, purpose. I said I wanted to ensure that these important voices were heard and learned from. A year ago, I realized that a lot of emerging artists around me were also saying important things that I believed the world needed to hear. I write this blog to listen to, meditate on, and amplify those voices. Voices I believe are essential.

I met Vince Ballentine around the time I realized I needed to add this artist interview element to The Mother’s Nature. He’s one of the people who drove home for me this obligation I have¬—with pleasure—to ensure that vital artists’ voices are heard. One thing that struck me about Vince’s work was that his street art speaks so loudly to so many people from all walks of life. It resonates deeply, not only for the sheer beauty, the presentation, the sensitivity of the paint, or the ideas carried, but for the presence. His portraits and scapes are living, breathing, they have a pulse. You almost cannot look away until you have fully acknowledged who is looking out of the paint, just as we would not evade the eyes of a living person we’ve met until we acknowledge the soul.

Vince’s paintings possess the power (soul?) to reflect back to us not only who we are but, like living water, that which lies below the surface, far more than we have yet conceived. Vince’s paintings are, for me, possessed paint. They show me what I haven’t seen yet by compelling me to look deeper, not with a shout or demand, but with the powerful gaze of a man who knows himself. Meet Vince…

PAINTING: From the Beginning

when did you start painting?

V: the first time I ever remember doing something creative, I was drawing. I couldn’t be more than 5 years old. And I was so proud of it and my mother said, “oh, that’s so good, yadda yada!” I remember drawing the whole thing. It was like the first thing I could be proud of, like, “look: I did it!” And everybody was like “oh, ok, that’s cool! That’s cool! Yay!” and I remember Uncle Andre. I love Uncle Andre to death, but he takes one look at it and he’s like, “why’s the head so big? Arms all little. Why you mess up the face like that!? You’re s’posed to color in the lines! That’s the best you can do?” I was kinda like, “damn.” Defeated. But it was interesting though because that was my first taste of criticism. That was my first critique at five years old.

The most immediate reaction was, “oh, yeah, well, I’m gonna show you!” So, it turns into the next one. And then next one was kinda like, you know, “that’s better.” It wasn’t good, “but it was better than that last piece of trash you showed me!”

mm hmm, yeah…

V: so, high school kid, again, the same thing. Everyone’s just like, “ok, you’re good.” I had Mr Brown, Malcolm Brown. He’s just like worldwide dude. Love that dude to death, but… it was Mr Hoffman.
We’re going around the room and everybody’s saying what college they’re going to, this is AP Art…the only advanced placement class I got, you know what I mean! So, we’re going around the classroom. One guy’s Parsons, another guy is Carnegie Mellon, Cooper Union. And then uh, at the time I had got accepted to the art institute in Chicago.

that’s good!

V: yeah, I felt somewhat proud! And the thing is, it’s not like we went and visited a bunch of schools. We went to Chicago, to that school, and I got in, and that was it. Everybody’s going around the classroom and he gets to me and I was like, “yo, I’m going to the SAIC in Chicago.” And he’s like, “how!?”

It was like, “hey, you’re my teacher!” It took everything in me not to like jump scissor kick this dude smooth in his neck! “Bruh, what- what do you mean, ‘how?!’ cause I didn’t get a recommendation from YOU?” Dude, how did I, like, manage that? I know other people besides you, punk!

Which actually leads to the next story of rejection when I was at the art institute. Literally, in Chicago it was the first time I did a fine art spray paint piece and the first time I got arrested, so… it was a nice little flip, you see what I mean? Museum… Jail…

Coming from Cleveland, we had our artists that I really respected and I was able to connect with and all this good stuff, but again, it was just in Cleveland so I knew what that was. Going to Chicago was mind-blowing. I’m out in Chicago and I show my art work, and the teacher goes, “eh.”

“Eh?!” what, what do you mean, “eh?”

“No… no… do better.”

So I felt like, “this dude just Uncle Andre-ed me!” But at the same time though, he was critiquing everybody. There were people in the class that I was looking at like, “this guy’s incredible! Why are you here?! Why aren’t you out there making money already?!”

And then he would look at mine and give me an accurate critique – it wasn’t necessarily under the critique of someone that was really refined. So, I felt good about that. But I saw his work and I respected it, so it was ok. And then he tells me, “go take the train north, sit by the window.”

Again, I’m a young punk kid, so I think I know everything. I get on that train and my face was glued to the window ‘cause it was like, “oh, that’s incredible, that’s incredible, that’s incredible, that’s dope.” I wanted to stop the train and get off and walk from that point, let me just examine this by myself, for myself. What is this?

Uniqueness and individuality – lines that people were using, the depth of the images, expression of characters, colors and styles, the different letters, and all of it happened in the cloak of night, couldn’t see, getting bitten by rats…. And you still achieved all that!?

That realllly exploded my head. And I hadn’t done that much, you know. I started to understand – with the help of art school for sure— line weight and how to find parts. Art is very mathematical as well, visually mathematic.

yeah, we had classes where she would hit the clock and you couldn’t pick up your pen for 27 minutes or whatever it was. You had to commit.

V: yeah! Yeah… Ink pen, that’s like my favorite medium in the world because you can get so many variations of depth with that one tool. But that’s where it starts to lead everywhere else, so – left Chicago, went to Philly. Philly: learned a whole bunch, oh my god, what’s going on. Moved out to Cali. Cali: learned a whole bunch, oh my god, this is crazy. Go to New York, same difference. And the beauty of it is that I can finally see different. It’s immediate: you can see your progress. I wish I still had the Uncle Andre piece to be honest with you!

why are you so motivated to get better— be better?

V: everyone has a purpose; everyone has a reason to be here. I want to be acknowledged, I want to be recognized for what I do. I could be considered the best to like 8 people, but to me that’s the base. Always wanted to be great at my thing. I always was a niche person… in the niche world that I’m in – I want to be one of the best to do it.

V: I’m starting to see things— I mean, it’s always a progression of seeing things, but, since I quit that job: getting out and being able to paint, my skill set went from zero to 60 real quick. I started to develop so fast! And then having to work fast – over the summer I did a piece for NYC Spread Art on Dodsworth — that was the one that you came to help me with, the two story one, with the scaffolding, that was two days. To be able to do a piece in two days meant you had to commit to a stroke and leave it. It wasn’t a bunch of fixing, tweaking, this, that and the third. There’s a high, there’s a low, move on! Colors just stack on top of each other. You’re cutting within that, move on! As opposed to, let’s say, before even with characters where you have to push it to find what it is, to find the shapes…

one thing I hear is: you’re deep in the actual physical activity of making work, which is not the case for everyone.

V: you mean they don’t actually like painting!?

no. some artists are just more concept-driven. It’s more about “I have an idea, I have something I wanna say, I’m just gonna find a way to say it.” You talk about the involvement of getting into a line and following the line, developing a line.

V: yeah. You have to believe in your line. You just have to be happy with how it lays. There’s abstraction to everything, that’s where stylization comes from, so, if I make this eye and then I put this thick descriptive eyebrow on it. Now if you do that with one stroke then it’s, depending on how that stroke is – is it wavy, is it straight, is it curved– that becomes dictated by your style. Your style becomes how you see, create, flow. You know how they say your first impulse is usually your best impulse. That’s exactly how painting is. So, the same way as you could make a line and then wanna correct it. No, you made the mark already. What’s the next mark after that?

So, you’re looking at balance from the very first line. It’s like the game of chess even. The game starts with the very first move. That very first move is pivotal.

perfect metaphor

V: it’s life or death right there.

PRESENTING: Stepping In

V: Sometimes the conceptual artists: that’s all they got! And, I don’t always respect that, the overly conceptual artist, for the simple fact that anybody can do it. It becomes a point where if it’s open for interpretation, then it’s open for interpretation. If you can’t immediately say if I like it or I don’t like it, that says something right there. There should be an immediate reaction.

that person didn’t have an authentic experience?

V: yeah. Yeah, yeah, but at the same time, be able to cross different platforms. I know some conceptual artists that are very elitist; it’s like they got on some special 3-D glasses that nobody else has. It’s like, “I see the world for how it really is; you’re just too dumb to know.”

so, what do you want, what type of experience do you want the viewer of your work to have?

V: immediate! Predominantly, my work is on the street, so it’s for people that don’t have background. For people that couldn’t even care less about some art work. So, if you’re gonna give ‘em something, you gotta give ‘em something! They could have walked by something for six years, and until you point it out, they’re like, “I never knew that that was there!” So, knowing that, you have to immediately already engage people.

There should always be levels. Let’s say it like this: the presentation of it needs to be finely crafted. If something is finely done, you can see the curves in it, the line, the detail – that’s immediately gonna get your attention. And after it has your attention, then what happens?

That’s what I mean. I’ll do a piece and it’ll immediately – even just by sheer size— it’ll be so big that you’re just like, you’re IN it! And I think that metaphor reflects on most art in general. Some people’s concepts can be so big that they can’t get into it. But it’s not a matter of stepping back, it’s a matter of stepping in.

And I don’t think that a lot of people care to do that, especially when it’s an extremely conceptual piece that isn’t immediately finely crafted. I’m gonna quote this guy’s work, Dasic Fernandez. He does these mad colorful images, of let’s just say a woman, and she might be in a puddle or something so you see her reflection in the puddle, and they’re massive. But the beauty of it is, it’s immediately engaging. The first thing you do is say, “Whoa!” but then you start realizing the drips are coming off of her so, where is gravity? Why is the gravity negative? Why is she in this position? Why- the conversation just continues and it can open up doors that other people don’t see.

As opposed to the flip side of that is a lot of modern conceptual art, it’s just like, “bruh, this is a blank canvas! But I’m not smart enough to know what you’re doing with this right now?!” (teeth sucking) Get out of here, kick rocks! (laughing) You know what I mean?

YES!

V: ‘cause if that’s the case, if I’m not smart enough to understand your art, then – you’re not smart enough to survive where I live every day. If you can’t walk a mile in my shoes I won’t walk a mile in yours! Meet me half way and we can both go there.

ohhhh!

V: so, long story short – if you see some of these street dudes who don’t have that same education, that same background, they don’t have the same motivation, they just wanna go do some dope shit, and you walking past something, like Dasic’s or uh, Dasic and Ruben have done some work lately; uh, there’s Danielle Mastrion, she’s done some fantastic stuff; Shiro does the same character over and over again, but I love it every time I see it. But it speaks to the people that are lookin’ at it.
And there’s a lot more of us walking that block than there are people who have season’s passes to the Met. That’s for real. There’s a lot more people that are playing pick-up basketball than have been to Madison Square Garden. So, let’s take it out of their hands and let’s give it back to the people.

so that’s who you’re painting for?

V: the people. Definitely. Definitely.

GIVING: The Conversation

V: the mural on Halsey, on the Dreamway, with the big Indian headdress girl—that one set it off in so many different ways. So, a kid walked by. And one of the organizers, actually, yet again, Tatu, man, love him to death! He was the founder of Xmental Inc, sponsoring the wall. He said, “we have homework on everybody else but you! We didn’t know about you.”

“Oh, word!? Alright, just let me paint first, and if it’s not good, then shit on me then.”

Halfway done, he was just like—his boy was like—“man, you should be teaching!”

A kid walks by and says, “I wanna paint.” Say, “I wanna paint.” That’s dope. I got that kid wanting to paint. And the beauty of it is, I want the kid to say, “I don’t wanna mess it up, though,” which means that “I’m really gonna concentrate right now.” That’s what I want.

Then one of the promoters comes by like, “if I was a little girl seeing this, I would be so impressed. Because it’s not many images of us out there.” You don’t see large, beautiful pictures of black people. It just says something when it’s inclusive, when it speaks to everybody! Instead of a lot of pieces where if you’re not this black person, you’re not Rakim, if you’re not Biggie, if you’re not – this type person, we ain’t got no holla for you. I really should stay away from that.

so, what’s the conversation? What’s your conversation?

V: that’s exactly what I’m saying: everybody is on their expression, and I don’t wanna be brutal, but – eff your expression. Your expression should be reflective of what you’re coming from. So, when I’m in Bed-Stuy, I’m doing Bed-Stuy. I’m [painting] for the people that live there. Cause after you leave, your piece is still there. Graffiti gets wiped out, but I do a piece of art that’s actually gonna be there for a minute and represent something!

So, to you it’s really more about holding up a mirror.

V: holding up a mirror and exposing things that people don’t see, like colors. There’s a lot of blight – so people are used to these drab colors, rusted out, blown out buildings, you know what I mean. And there’s this bright spot. It’s not for everybody, but when I was a kid and got Uncle-Andre-ed, and crapped on by the high school teacher: let me have a piece that I can go to and reflect on and say, “ok, but this is the type of stuff that I wanna do, because this is the type of stuff that I admire.” Actually have something in the world that exists. It exists so someone else can exist with it, and not have to go to a museum. Not have to go to a gallery. Not have to know somebody who knows somebody to get a glimpse of this thing that’s supposed to be precious ‘cause Banksy did it! See something that wasn’t there before: that’s the main thing – it was a dirt wall before. Look at it now. I don’t understand how people can not like that. How do you not like that?

i think what you’re telling me is that you’re painting to have a conversation. That’s what the painting is about.

V: definitely, definitely. When I leave, what am I leaving? Once you know how to paint – what are you painting? When people look at it, what do they say?

LISTENING: The Tribe

if your journey is to get better then you have to be able to soak in so much – and be able to give a LOT.

the reason why you’re getting better is so you can see better, so you can hear better, and so you can respond better?

V: yeah

i’ve never heard that. And you actually started saying this at the very beginning of the conversation when you described the train ride. You really want this engagement.

V: yeah!

because there’s actually no conversation without the engagement.

V: yeah… yeah, yeah! I want five year old Vince to look at this and be like, “man, that’s what I’m gonna be like in the future!?” I’m gonna be looking at my Uncle Andre and then I’m gonna look at 2016 Vince and be like, “I’m gonna be that!? when I’m 30-something years old!?”

“Word! Let me just keep going then,” you know what I mean?! Really push the envelope! Do something that’s really gonna be provocative, have a conversation.

Case in point, we’ve talked about this before. We can talk about all types of police brutality, we can talk about disenfranchisement, we can talk about prison industrial complex, but nobody’s actually gonna talk about racism. Let’s just talk about that. Let’s just talk about what the core problem is. Let’s just talk about money, and how these people got it and these people don’t.

I’m a conduit. That’s what I do. I’m gonna represent y’all.

A friend was in Brownsville working with this group, doing this thing at the bottom that says, “black girls matter.” And a black girl approached: “how are YOU gonna tell ME about ME in MY neighborhood!?” She was immediately offended by the whole thing. And the painter turns around like, “well, first and foremost, I do have a biracial daughter.” What’s actually a smack in the face to you, chick, is “I’m doing it. What are you doing?” Done. Washed up! What can you say after that? You can complain about it, but you’re not gonna do anything. And I think that’s where the conversation needs to start. Instead of having a bunch of shit to say, go DO something! And let’s talk about what you did.

so, what’s the next piece of your conversation?

V: I don’t like the fact that murals have the stigma of painting dead people. I think we should immortalize people while they are still alive and they can come and see it and see what impact they’ve had on the world. In a huge mural that anybody can come and see – that’s something – so they can see if people love ‘em or hate ‘em! I still wanna do my Blackstar piece, Mos and Kweli, I want that really bad.

From here, it’s definitely – show people that we can still hold onto now, push, get behind, you know, be motivated by. I think the THINK BIG piece, in a sense, it was different for me, ‘cause it was all letter based. When we were sitting around knocking the ideas back and forth, it was, “well, we wanna do something Biggie,” and I was like, “I’m not painting a mural of Biggie!” Because it’s like 9000 murals of Biggie already! And he was like, “ok, well it’s gotta be Biggie related.” So, I threw this, he threw that. The thing was though, to come out and to just say, “Think Big.” It just, it stuck with me to the point where it was: “no, I HAVE to do this now!”

I’m making landmarks. I don’t know who I’m affecting. I have no idea. I could be affecting you positively, negatively- don’t know. But, the fact that I am affecting people is what makes the difference. The fact that I am causing conversation. The fact that somebody’s looking at that and they either think it’s dope, or they don’t. They don’t have to think- for what? Why should I care? Make ‘em care. That’s where we come in.

PEOPLE’S CHAMP: The Calling

V: I feel much more the people’s champ than I do fine artist. I don’t speak of art in these highbrow conversations. I just want that to be appreciated.

is that part of the reason why you wanna be as good as you can possibly be?

V: no, the only reason that I do this is for me. I don’t do this for women, for money or fame. I do this because I – I really have to do this. It’s just that if I don’t do it, I’ll die.

no, I get that, when I really get in, get in the flow, there’s definitely something that happens – everything’s on fire, your face is on fire, your heart is on fire. You can feel those words coming! You’re just in the line, right? You don’t wanna get out of it.

V: yeah, yeah…

i feel like half the work I do is just – writing can be just bullshit, it can just be work! But I work that hard for the moment to get into the line! and that moment is rare, and it is precious and it doesn’t last that long, Rafael’s gonna wake up or whatever is gonna happen. But I get that, I get that.

V: yeah, yeah, yeah… Or better yet even, sometimes I’ll black out doing stuff, it’s just a blur – I don’t really know how it happened or what happened – but I know that’s what’s left – and that’s kinda dope!

It’s funny cause I saw something recently that I did– and looked back and like I’m 10 times better than that now – from last year! So, whatever we’re doing we have to try to stay on this path the best way we can, somehow. The best we can.

yeah, when you’re standing on the trail – you really can’t step off the trail. You have to keep – wherever it’s going, it’s going. You just gotta—

V: yeah, you have to pull things onto your trail, you can’t go [off to] get it!

yeah, no, you really can’t!

V: no. sometimes it even means food. Days will go by and I’m like – I haven’t eaten, dang!

if there’s one thing I should get right, what is it?

V: how about this? Sometimes it’s face value. Sometimes there’s nothing else, besides “what do you see?” Immediate reaction. It’s like a Rorschach test. What do you see? “Oh, I see a kid with glasses, and I see the flag in there, and it looks like, kinda like a liberty type thing going on.”

Alright, good, carry on.

“The unidentified become the leaders of these situations.”

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This is the easiest interview I’ve done. Vince is illustrative and insightful; his work speaks for itself, just like his stories, language and metaphors.

But, as always, I can’t help but be left with something more: the artist in the community. Raised in a tight nomadic family of six in a highly individualistic, capitalistic nation, I’ve long struggled with what Amerikkka tells us is an unsolvable paradox: my own desire to be distinctively, recognizably individual while also equally a necessary member of my tribe—an integral member of my pack.

Vince describes himself as wanting to be recognized for what he does. I think we all want that. He works hard to be good, to keep getting better, not only so that he can be the people’s champ, a real and insightful conduit for the community, but also so that he is acknowledged for what he does: he gives something precious. He wants the community to acknowledge what he gave!

For many of us, creatives included, what we do is who we are. Vince cannot separate himself from his need to create. Without his ability to make art, he would perish; he would cease to be himself. In other posts I’ve referred to that inner voice that tells him to paint, intuition, as the voice of the soul, while his motivation is the will, the muscle of his soul.

And therein lies the answer to the paradox we’ve been sold. Humans were never meant to be self-sufficient, separate money-making LLCs. We were born pack animals and that’s unlikely to change: we’re born to connect, give and receive. How to connect was and is ever present in the urge to be what we are made to be. When we do what we are, we can be seen for what we really are. We manifest ourselves in the world. And those manifestations are our gifts, gifts other people need. In the giving and receiging, we connect. When we give what we have, we become necessary members of our tribes, we slip into our places like the missing pieces of a puzzle. We give our part so the tribe can thrive. The desire to be both distinctively individual and deeply connected to the tribe is not a paradox, but the necessary marriage of yin and yang that allow and feed one another, making it possible for each to fulfill its potential. It’s a symbiotic completion.

In giving, we become seen—and through that recognition we connect with our tribes. The tribe sees itself more fully in the layered pools of Vince’s work—through his eyes; the artist receives his vision through the tribe, in which he chooses a waking submersion.

We fall in to Vince’s work. We look deeper, together. We commune.
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