Biography
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Born in New England, color was always important to Max. The turning leaves in the fall seem to transform the landscape into a natural kaleidoscope of colors laid out as far as the eyes can see. Add to that the breathtaking sunsets off the coast of northern California and it's almost as if there's not enough room on the palette to hold all of the colors.
But of course, it's not just nature that drew Max to the world of colors. Taken in by the vibrancy of Sainte-Chapelle's walls and windows, touched by the subtly of Van Gogh's Bedroom in Arles, smitten by the purity of Lichtenstein's yellow, he knew it was possible for colors to communicate a great deal with a few flicks of the paintbrush.
Epiphanies of course, rarely appear right out of the box. Often they take the perspective of life to put them in a context that makes sense. Such was the case with Max. While he dabbled with painting as a child, his work seemed more like a painful amalgamation of every bad third grade art project and some random washing detergent commercial. As such, he put his easel and brushes in the attic to collect dust while he went about going to college, joining the Army and later becoming a businessman.
A true calling can't be quieted forever, however, and at some point, after experiencing the cacophony of life the need to put brush to canvas reemerged. Gone is the lack of life experience that tinged (overwhelmed is probably a better word) everything from his uncertain youthful hand. Today a clarity of purpose and perspective guides his hand to use color to draw out an observer's connection with a canvas that for some is striking, for others subtle, but hopefully always worth gazing upon...

Artist Statement…
I put paint on canvas...
I put different colors of paint on said canvas.
I don’t typically cover the entire canvas with paint. Usually there are lines where there is no paint, just canvas. Usually.
What is my work about? Paint… and color, and lines.
Wait… Isn’t an artist’s statement supposed to be about something deeper? Ah... sure… OK… my work is about the metaphysical expression of the dichotomy of life between… Um, no, not really. I’m not even sure what that might mean. Actually, my work is about… life. Not necessarily the particulars, but just life in general.
Back in Mr. Clark’s biology class we always had a skeleton hanging around somewhere. Although it was there to help us understand how the various bones fit and functioned together, more often than not I was wondering what the person had looked like, what kind of life did they lead, were they fun to be around, were they happy, were they sad, etc. The skeleton tells us something about the person’s shape, but not usually much about their life.
In that same vein, my lines are the skeleton’s bones, although they’re important, it’s what’s between them that gives my pieces life. In my case it’s typically bright, vivid colors that sit between the lines, which are usually white. I start out with the lines, not knowing exactly how they will be laid out when I begin. Eventually, once they’re in place then I lay out my palette, sometimes starting with half a dozen colors and other times with just one. The colors of course are more than just pigment… in my world they play the role of love and joy and anger and fear and the rest of the emotions and motivations that make up the kaleidoscopes of our lives.
The lines in my art not only provide the skeleton of a piece, they provide a tool for the separation of its SNAPSHOT of life into various elements. Just as in life where we may have different groups of friends who know a different side of our personality, (work friends, college friends, childhood friends, etc) and rarely meet, my lines divide a piece up into distinctly different areas. Sometimes those different areas complement one another, other times contrast with one another and sometimes are indistinguishable from one another.
The truth is, I rarely begin a piece with an idea of what exactly it’s going to look like at the end. Although I may have an idea of a stencil I want to use or a mix of colors I’d like to try, the piece reveals itself as I paint and the colors and strokes seem to beckon me as I go along. Once I put paint to brush the work takes on a life of its own and it’s as if the world disappears and it’s just me and my canvas. An hour or ten later I emerge from my bubble with a canvas covered in a cacophony of lines and color.
And so there it is. My art is about life… the trivial, the momentous, the mundane and the extraordinary… as refracted through paint on canvas.
I put paint on canvas...
I put different colors of paint on said canvas.
I don’t typically cover the entire canvas with paint. Usually there are lines where there is no paint, just canvas. Usually.
What is my work about? Paint… and color, and lines.
Wait… Isn’t an artist’s statement supposed to be about something deeper? Ah... sure… OK… my work is about the metaphysical expression of the dichotomy of life between… Um, no, not really. I’m not even sure what that might mean. Actually, my work is about… life. Not necessarily the particulars, but just life in general.
Back in Mr. Clark’s biology class we always had a skeleton hanging around somewhere. Although it was there to help us understand how the various bones fit and functioned together, more often than not I was wondering what the person had looked like, what kind of life did they lead, were they fun to be around, were they happy, were they sad, etc. The skeleton tells us something about the person’s shape, but not usually much about their life.
In that same vein, my lines are the skeleton’s bones, although they’re important, it’s what’s between them that gives my pieces life. In my case it’s typically bright, vivid colors that sit between the lines, which are usually white. I start out with the lines, not knowing exactly how they will be laid out when I begin. Eventually, once they’re in place then I lay out my palette, sometimes starting with half a dozen colors and other times with just one. The colors of course are more than just pigment… in my world they play the role of love and joy and anger and fear and the rest of the emotions and motivations that make up the kaleidoscopes of our lives.
The lines in my art not only provide the skeleton of a piece, they provide a tool for the separation of its SNAPSHOT of life into various elements. Just as in life where we may have different groups of friends who know a different side of our personality, (work friends, college friends, childhood friends, etc) and rarely meet, my lines divide a piece up into distinctly different areas. Sometimes those different areas complement one another, other times contrast with one another and sometimes are indistinguishable from one another.
The truth is, I rarely begin a piece with an idea of what exactly it’s going to look like at the end. Although I may have an idea of a stencil I want to use or a mix of colors I’d like to try, the piece reveals itself as I paint and the colors and strokes seem to beckon me as I go along. Once I put paint to brush the work takes on a life of its own and it’s as if the world disappears and it’s just me and my canvas. An hour or ten later I emerge from my bubble with a canvas covered in a cacophony of lines and color.
And so there it is. My art is about life… the trivial, the momentous, the mundane and the extraordinary… as refracted through paint on canvas.