How Art is Born Season 2
Bonus Episode

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BEST OF SEASON 2 PART I

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Reflecting on Season 2 of our podcast How Art is Born, we had so many wonderful, passionate, and talented guests on our show that we wanted to relive some of those moments. In this episode of How Art is Born, revisit some highlights from the first five episodes of Season 2 with guests AJ Haynes, Blake Jackson, Sebastian Jones, Diego Gerard Morrison and Lucia Hinojosa, and Wes Watkins. We hope you love listening back to these moments as much as we did!


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TRANSCRIPTION

Dele Johnson:

Hey! This is producer and editor Dele Johnson welcoming you to another bonus episode of How Art is Born Season 2. Reflecting on this season of the podcast we had so many wonderful, passionate, and talented guests on our show this season that we wanted to relive some of those moments. In this episode of How Art is born we’re revisiting some highlights from the first five episodes of season 2 with guests, AJ Haynes, Blake Jackson, Sebastian Jones, Diego Gerard Morrison and Lucia Hinojosa, and Wes Watkins. We hope you love listening back to these moments as much as we did. 

To start us off, we’re going back to our season 2 premier with singer/songwriter/performer AJ Haynes, frontwoman of the band Seratones, and reproductive justice advocate. Alan and AJ discuss AJ’s musical career, family, and her desire for a mutually nourishing relationship between artist and audience. 

Alan Brooks:

Welcome to How Art is Born, a podcast from the Museum of Contemporary Art Denver about the origins of artists and the creative and artistic practices. I'm your host, R. Alan Brooks, artist, writer, and professor. Today, I'm joined by the front woman of the dirty south based funk soul rock group, the Seratones, and reproductive justice advocate, AJ Haynes. Say hi.

AJ Haynes:

Hi.

Alan Brooks:

That's how we make sure people know the difference between our voices. Okay. To start off, AJ, could you tell us a little bit about who you are?

AJ Haynes:

Hmm.

Alan Brooks:

Big question, right?

AJ Haynes:

Who am I? Where do I begin? So I've been thinking a lot about lineage and ancestry. So Where am I placing myself in space and time right now, and I can say that I'm the daughter of Jane, granddaughter of Octavia, great granddaughter of Lotti, and just out here living my life as a free, Black, queer southerner and it feels really great. I have the privilege of making a life out of art and art out of life through my most recent project with Seratones, Love & Algorhythms. So I'm feeling really right. I'm feeling myself. I'm feeling it. I'm feeling where I am, daughter of an immigrant just sitting at a lot of really terrifying and beautiful intersections. So I guess that would be the quick roundabout way of saying I am who I am. 

Alan Brooks:

Well, so it was interesting because the question I was getting to was for me, a lot of times, when people are sort of given the motivational thing about being creative or even being revolutionary or an activist, a lot of it is around pushing through your own fear, but for me, I had to push through the fear of the community around me in order to be my fullest self, and I wonder, I did see that you were born in Japan. Is that right? Okay. So I wonder for you being born somewhere else, having another heritage to the draw on a culture and growing up in the south, identified as Black, does that inform just how you find your biggest and most expansive self?

AJ Haynes:

Absolutely. And it's always a process of discovery too. I recently discovered an indigenous Filipino culture. There was the leader of the community called Babaylan, and the Babaylan were typically like fem of center, but definitely, I mean, gender's a colonialization thing, whatever, but anyway, and the Babaylan, they were medicine people, they were doulas for all pregnancy outcomes. They were the witch bitches, they were who the kings or whatever the term would be within the tribe, who the lead folk would ask for consults, and I'm like, I'm always in this process of discovering something new and it's the process of discovery that informs my decisions because it's not static. All of these different identities, they're both and. They're here and they're centuries ago and just having that, I think specifically thinking about coming to the US whenever I was four or something. So my mother's from the Philippines, my father's from Louisiana. They met in Yokosuka, Japan, had me and my brother and sister, and then we moved from Yokosuka to Columbia, Louisiana and moved in with my grandma, and it was interesting to see myself as other because my first experience of the world and seeing people was like, oh, people are just people. They have different skin tones and that has no value. It's just like, oh, this is pretty, or it's an observation. There's no meaning attached to it, there's no value attached to it, and then I remember the first time this little boy said, what about colored people, and I was like, what are you talking about, purple or green? If that gives you, first of all, a sense of I grew up in the country.

Alan Brooks:

Seriously. I was like, when were they using the term colored?

AJ Haynes:

They were using the term colored, or the N word, and for me, Black identity was how we named ourselves. It wasn't like other people calling us Black. It was like, I'm Black and I'm proud. I'm Black and I'm beautiful because we are calling ourselves this because these white supremacists out here got other choice words and we're just not using them, and growing up, one of my best friends, I was not allowed to go to her birthday sleepover parties because her dad was a Klansman. That wasn't that long ago. I'm only 34, and so being able to shift... I mean, we're really just shifting time.

Alan Brooks

Okay. So there's so much to hearing how you see yourself in the world, how you see yourself within, that kind of thing. I want to go back a little and you talked about young memories of singing for your grandmother and stuff like that. Was there a certain point for you where you knew singing was going to be the thing that you did or was that kind of always with you?

AJ Haynes:

It's always, and is that the thing I'm doing still? I'm like, is that what I'm actually doing? I'm really lucky and really guided and I always... I mean, I'm going to sing, period. I was going to sing whether I'm getting paid to or not. My grandmother told me, taught me, get paid. There's money here and what you're doing is a service. For me, singing is an act of service. It's very much so, here's my contribution to helping people process, to helping, period, and so it's service for myself, it's service for my ancestors, it's service for people that are here and in the flesh. I don't know. I've always done it and was determined to try out having a rock and roll band.

Alan Brooks:

How'd you pick rock and roll?

AJ Haynes:

Reclamation. I was like, that's my shit. We made that.

Alan Brooks:

We made that. Yeah.

AJ Haynes:

And it's a lot of adolescents too, so rock and roll for me feels very much so like a part of the adolescences of this country, and it was also, those are the guys that I was hanging out with. We're all putting on DIY punk shows, listening to Led Zeppelin and I was like, I want to rock and roll band, damn it, and from there, it's like, I don't really... I was very keen on unpacking or at least continuing to draw the line from rock and roll in America to the African diaspora, and specifically looking at Yoruban culture and the trickster gods and goddesses. That's where rock and roll actually came from is its spirit.And then after living that discovery, then I'm like, actually, God, it's just Black music, how incredible, just you could do whatever you want, and then shifted from rock and roll to, I mean, where we are now, which I like to name myself as sci-fi punk, sci-fi funk. I mean, it's really Black music when I think of, I mean, Black as in dark matter, Black as in the thing that holds and also contains everything and is beyond, and for me, I think actually discovering Alice Coltrane was part of that shift of like, this is we can do this. We can play harp. This music is devotional.And devotion in ways that people may not have heard before, but immediately understand. You listen to Alice Coltrane and you're like, I don't need to know what mode this is in. I don't need to know. She was winging it. I mean, classically trained, impeccable musician all around, but she was like, this is spirit music, period, and so shifting from wanting to draw the historical cultural line with rock and roll and then just going straight to spirit, and it's like, okay, what does spirit want and what does spirit asking of me, and it sounds like it's filtered through all of my experiences and it's honest in that way, and that's how I feel like Alice Coltrane operates. She's just like, I'm going to do what I do.

Alan Brooks:

Yeah. Let it be what it is.

AJ Haynes:

Right, right. Yeah. Absolutely.

Alan Brooks:

I want to ask a question about your art specifically. I find that there's a lot of people who think that there's a destination in art. If I just get X, if I just get the record deal, if I just get the publish and do whatever, and obviously for you, it's a journey. You seem to be very good about being like, here's where I am and enjoying that and then figuring out what your next goals are, but I guess how do you process goals as an artist? How do you measure what you've accomplished, or is it important to you at all?

AJ Haynes:

Yeah, it is important. I'm trying to work on the practice of gratitude more, honestly. Yes, goals are important. Yes, there's a business to this 100%. And like keep a good team around you, understand the mechanisms, the processes, but like, if that's the goal, okay. That's your goal. That's not mine. I have no interest in doing something that is not aligned with my ethics and my morals and my spirit. I have no interest in that whatsoever because then it sullies this gift, and I say so, yes and. How do I measure goals? Financially, yes, I'd like to make more money so that I can, and not only make more money, but how I make the money. This ties into reproductive justice. So reproductive justice is a framework created by a group of 16 Black women in, was it '94 or '92? In response to seeing how the democratic party was just like, no, we're not going to talk about reproductive health. That's not a winnable issue, and they were like, what? No. Loretta Ross is like, try again, and created this framework and reproductive justice is the human right to determine when to have a child, if you want a child, and being able to raise that child in a safe and sustainable environment, and I'm thinking about my child self. How is my child self safe? My child self is safe whenever I get sleep, whenever I'm not in fight or flight all the time because I've toured like that. I've lived like that before and I thrived in it. But is that sustainable? Is it sustainable getting drunk on Wild Turkey 101 every night? No, and so now, I'm like, I need that juice. I need that extra sleep. So for me, I want to have more integrative and creative ways of touring that are more engaged in the community just like this where I'm getting fed by the community and we're feeding each other, and just creating new ways of doing this because it's a whole new... Who knows what's going to happen in the next year and what's possible? These paradigms, these infrastructure shifts are broken, whatever, you create something new, you have something that has to die for something to be born.

Alan Brooks:

Well, AJ, I think that's a beautiful place to end.

AJ Haynes:

Yay.

Alan Brooks:

Thank you so much.

AJ Haynes:

Thank you.

Alan Brooks:

You have a really dope perspective on the world and I just love being able to hear it. So thank you.

AJ Haynes:

Thank you for my comics and for everything.

Alan Brooks:

Special thank you to today's guest, AJ Haynes.

AJ Haynes:

Thank you so much for having me. This has been an honor and a privilege. Make sure that you check out Love & Algorhythms, the latest album from my band, Seratones, and support your local abortion fund, or you can give to the National Network of Abortion Funds, or you can give to my home friends at the New Orleans abortion fund, all of it. Thank you.

 

Dele Johnson:

That was a lovely and inspiring conversation between Alan and AJ. Next up is the second episode of two episode season 2 premiere where Alan sits down with a friend of the show and the museum, Blake Jackson a Denver based photographer and film director. Alan and Blake discuss using art as a medium for expressing one’s worldview, and the impact artwork can have on those who receive it. 

R. Alan Brooks:

Welcome to How Art is Born, a podcast from the Museum of Contemporary Art Denver, about the origins of artists and the creative and artistic practices. I'm your host, R. Alan Brooks, artist, writer, and professor. Today, I'm joined by Denver-based, self-taught, multidisciplinary artist focused on photography and film direction, Blake Jackson. Say hello.

Blake Jackson:

How's it going?

R. Alan Brooks:

See, I make everybody do that so that they know, when they're listening, they're like, "What voice is different?"

Blake Jackson:

That's right. That's right.

R. Alan Brooks:

"Who's talking now?" Anyway, start us off, man. Can you tell us a little bit about who you are?

Blake Jackson:

Man, my name's Blake. I love long walks on the beach, blowing daffodils, watching them float off in the wind.

R. Alan Brooks:

Oh, really?

Blake Jackson:

No, my name's Blake. I'm from Cheyenne, Wyoming, the thriving metropolis of Cheyenne, Wyoming. Yeah. I moved to Denver in 2007, just trying to chase some dreams, and that dream led me to selling mattresses for about four years.

R. Alan Brooks:

That's how it goes.

Blake Jackson:

That's how it goes.

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah.

Blake Jackson:

And stumbled my way to becoming a full-time creative somehow, someway.

R. Alan Brooks:

for some people, art is an escape. Sometimes, it heals you. Sometimes, it's about sharing a message with the world. Did it function in any of those ways for you doing it?

Blake Jackson:

It was a mixture of all of that.

R. Alan Brooks:

Okay.

Blake Jackson:

So it was being able to go to a different world, for one. For two, it was just like, I wanted to be able to express myself.

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah.

Blake Jackson:

And it's really hard for non-artists to understand that expression of using art as a form of expressing yourself, because we're able to do that through the language of our vocation, of our art, of our craft, as opposed to just being like, "Yeah, this is how I feel. This is my worldview. We can show them."

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah.

Blake Jackson:

So it was that, and I just wanted to get what I wanted to say out. You know what I mean?

R. Alan Brooks:

Uh-huh.

Blake Jackson:

And it was just like one of those things where it's like, if you're an artist to your core, it's compulsive.

R. Alan Brooks:

Hmm.

Blake Jackson:

You can't live without doing it. You can't survive without creating something.

R. Alan Brooks:

Right. Okay. So you're going through these experiences, you're dealing with trauma, you're working through all these things. And I think you said that one of the things that stood out to you was, you wanted to be able to say something through art. At that age, at that time, what was it that you felt like you wanted to say?

Blake Jackson:

I wanted to be able to... My whole life, man, I don't really feel like people have really thoroughly understood me.

R. Alan Brooks:

Huh.

Blake Jackson:

You know what I mean?

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah.

Blake Jackson:

I have very close friends. I got people that I've known my entire life. And I think this is true for anybody. You can know somebody up to a point because you're not with them for their most intimate moments by themselves.

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah. You're not in their head.

Blake Jackson:

You're not in their head, right?

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah.

Blake Jackson:

And so, I've always just been wanting to be able to get out this perspective of how I see the world, my worldview.

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah.

Blake Jackson:

And I couldn't do that other than through art. And what's wild about my journey to becoming an artist, because I didn't consider myself to be an artist until 2018.

R. Alan Brooks:

Okay.

Blake Jackson:

2018, 2019 probably.

R. Alan Brooks:

Wow. I mean, I know you've been doing art.

Blake Jackson:

I've been making art my whole life and even at a professional level. But for some reason, I didn't consider myself to be an artist until... I quit my job to do photography full-time in 2017, right?

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah.

Blake Jackson:

And it still took me a few years probably, maybe even to 2020, till I actually felt like I had to release the shackles of what I thought people wanted me to be.

R. Alan Brooks:

Huh.

Blake Jackson:

And so, I was able to actually live as an artist,-

R. Alan Brooks:

Interesting.

Blake Jackson:

... express myself as an artist, dress the way I want to dress, because I can be like, "Yo, yes, you couldn't pull that off because you're not me. But since I am me, I can pull this off because it's the way that I feel. This is how I'm going to be able to express myself." Right?

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah. The most me.

Blake Jackson:

Yeah. This is the most me.

R. Alan Brooks:

Anyway... Yeah.

Blake Jackson:

When you think about The Matrix, which is a movie that literally changed my entire life, but in The Matrix, you have their subconscious expressions of themselves while they're in the Matrix. This is how I see myself, right?

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah.

Blake Jackson:

And so, up until a few years ago or a couple years ago, I didn't really feel like I was able to fully lean into my vision of how I look at this world. Right?

R. Alan Brooks:

Mm.

Blake Jackson:

And in addition to that, the reason I didn't really feel like I was an artist was because it took forever for me, not only to find my voice, but to find something that I feel like I could stick with, because I'm an Aquarius through and through. I'm mercurial. I change my mind pretty quickly.

R. Alan Brooks:

Okay.

Blake Jackson:

I can go one direction and change on a dime the next day.

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah. Huh.

Blake Jackson:

And that kind of permeated throughout every part of my life, specifically with how I want to express myself creatively.

R. Alan Brooks:

Hmm.

Blake Jackson:

I was drawing and I was pretty good at it, but I never dedicated myself to actually doing it for my whole life.

R. Alan Brooks:

Right.

Blake Jackson:

I had this period where I was obsessed with it, and then I put it down.

R. Alan Brooks:

Right.

Blake Jackson:

There's a period where I was writing a whole lot, and then I put it down.

R. Alan Brooks:

Hmm.

Blake Jackson:

You know what I mean? And so, I think that's why I have this such big love for photography. And then by way of photography, filmmaking is because it's stuck.

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah.

Blake Jackson:

It's stuck. It's stuck. You know what I mean? It was finally something where I'm like, "I'm good at this. I can make a living doing this." And I am finally getting the people in my world to see what I've been trying to say this whole time.

R. Alan Brooks:

Hmm.

Blake Jackson:

And so, that has been something that I've been able to hold on to.

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah.

Blake Jackson:

Yeah.

R. Alan Brooks:

Now I'm going to say, I'm really interested in this, quote, unquote, "idea" of an artist, right?

Blake Jackson:

Yeah.

R. Alan Brooks:

Because if you were making photography, I've known you to make photography for much longer than before 2018.

Blake Jackson:

Yeah.

R. Alan Brooks:

So was it the financial component that made you feel like, "I can support myself"? What made you feel like you're finally an artist?

Blake Jackson:

It was a feeling that my art wasn't compartmentalized.

R. Alan Brooks:

Okay.

Blake Jackson:

Instead of it being a waffle, it was a pancake, and the syrup was spreading out through all my pieces of my life.

R. Alan Brooks:

Interesting.

Blake Jackson:

So I didn't feel like I had to watch what I say to a degree.

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah. That's a good thing.

Blake Jackson:

That's a big thing. That might have gotten me in trouble the last couple years of being very expressive about my worldview, and it's probably cost me a bag because I'm very steadfast in my beliefs when it comes to liberation and anti-imperialism and being anti-capitalist and all that, right? But it allowed me to... 2020 was a really pivotal year for me because it forced me to slow down, it forced me to stop, and it forced me to focus on the world in a way that I hadn't focused on it before, and really get into this part of myself where my level of empathy could now be expressed in a way that was tangible.

R. Alan Brooks:

Mm-hmm.

Blake Jackson:

I've always been somebody that has cared for the underdog and the small person and the people that don't have a voice. But now, by way of what was happening in 2020, I was able to find a community that was able to allow me to put that empathy into people, whether it was through activism or through actions or mutual aid or digital activism or things of that nature, or philanthropy or fundraising. It really helps solidify what I feel like my role in my community can be.

R. Alan Brooks:

Hmm.

Blake Jackson:

And then since then, it's evolved even more. So 2020 I think was... I say this a lot to my friends. If you were able to come out of 2020, period, you're winning, for one.

R. Alan Brooks:

No doubt.

Blake Jackson:

And for two, if you're able to come out of 2020 and have this ability to still hold on to that part of you that a lot of people lost because of how crazy 2020 was, that part of you must have stuck around for a reason. So lean into that a little bit.

R. Alan Brooks:

Okay.

Blake Jackson:

It just kind of solidified it. I think we, as a society, went through a whole lot and it strengthened us and then it traumatized us as well, a lot of things that went on during that time, but I think it really solidified what we believe to be what's right.

R. Alan Brooks:

Huh.

Blake Jackson:

And what that's done for myself has allowed me to have a little bit more perspective of not only of my world and of what's going on in it, but being more aware of myself and how I walk within it.

R. Alan Brooks:

Hmm.

Blake Jackson:

And so, I've been able to use my art in a way to express myself in a manner that lines up with that dogma a little bit, but not necessarily hitting it nail on the head of like, "Okay. This photo signifies this," but more of, "Okay. You're going to find out who I am by way of my art, and then you're going to get this message on top of that." You know what I mean?

R. Alan Brooks:

No, that is dope.

Blake Jackson:

Because I use that as a Trojan horse to get people to listen to what I have to say.

R. Alan Brooks:

No, I love that, man. As you're talking, I feel like we have some interesting parallel paths. 

R. Alan Brooks:

All right. So we were talking about how people react to art. And with you doing photography and film, I would love if you have an example of when you created something where somebody specifically talked about how it affected them.

Blake Jackson:

Man, there's a few instances, but I would say it was... I have a couple of instances specifically.

R. Alan Brooks:

Okay.

Blake Jackson:

I actually have a few. But the one I want to speak about specifically was, while the uprising was happening in 2020, I was going to a lot of protests. At first, I was going there to document.

R. Alan Brooks:

Okay.

Blake Jackson:

I wanted to be able to be a fly in the wall, take it in, take photos, and just really approach it from a photojournalistic standpoint of, "This is an important time."

R. Alan Brooks:

Right.

Blake Jackson:

I didn't see any Black photographers out there or brown photographers out there. And so, this is our plight, and a class plight as well, but I wasn't seeing... We were being displayed in a manner that felt like trauma porn.

R. Alan Brooks:

Through other people's eyes.

Blake Jackson:

Through other people's eyes.

R. Alan Brooks:

No doubt.

Blake Jackson:

So that's what prompted me to go out there. And subsequently, things changed once I got tear-gassed the first time, and I was like, "Wait a second." Something clicked, and I was like, "Hold on." I don't want to be someone that's just taking photos of this, document it. I want to be someone that is a part of this movement and really tried to fulfill a role within that community.

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah.

Blake Jackson:

But before that, I went to a protest that was over in the Montbello area, and everyone had their fists up and things like that. So I took a photo of this gentleman's fist raised the air and titled it Break Our Chains.

R. Alan Brooks:

Okay.

Blake Jackson:

And that photo was probably the first time I could really see that I have a responsibility with my lens. I have a responsibility of what I take. I have a responsibility of my perspective, and I have a responsibility to make sure that I do it in a light that is going to be authentic because I'm not just some random dude.

R. Alan Brooks:

Right.

Blake Jackson:

I'm not just some random guy that you're going to find, like some people who are paying attention. That's when things changed a little bit for me of being like, I thought I was living within my purpose of being a creative and I knew I had to go deeper, a little bit deeper, because a lot of people reacted to that image in a way that felt like it gave them a sense of revolutionary spirit.

R. Alan Brooks:

Huh.

Blake Jackson:

It gave them a battery in their back.

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah.

Blake Jackson:

So I was like, "Okay. All right. Well, now that I know that people can identify with my work in that way, I have to be very intentional with how I do it, regardless of the subject matter, regardless if it's from a street photography, a perspective, or from making a short film. I have to be very, very conscious of that."

R. Alan Brooks:

Mm-hmm.

Blake Jackson:

So that was probably one of the times that I was able to realize that people are receiving my art in the way that I wanted to.

R. Alan Brooks:

Hmm. Okay.

Blake Jackson:

Mm-hmm.

R. Alan Brooks:

That's dope.

Blake Jackson:

Yeah.

R. Alan Brooks:

Pleasure talking to your, brother. I appreciate it.

Blake Jackson:

Thank you.

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah. Thank you for being here. It was a really cool conversation. This was huge.

Blake Jackson:

Man, this was great, man. This was a great conversation. I appreciate you, bro.

 

Dele Johnson:

That was a candid and insightful conversation between Alan and Blake for episode 2 of season 2 of How Art is Born. We’ll move on now to some highlights from episode 3 with guest Sebastian Jones. Sebastian is the founder and president of Stranger Comics and a longtime friend of Alan. The two graphic novel grandmasters discuss what it takes to run a successful independent comic book company.

 

R. Alan Brooks:

today. I'm joined by Los Angeles bass publisher writer, teacher, founder, and president the stranger comic Sebastian Jones say hello?

Sebastian Jones:

Hello. Hello everybody. Hello Denver. <laugh>

R. Alan Brooks:

So, Hey man, I wanna start this out. So like, uh, in 2017 I decided that I was gonna, uh, leave my insurance job and, um, and go full time in comics and I had no foundation anything and I, I had wrapped for years, so I was thinking, okay, with the charisma and hustle that it takes to be an MC looking at all these other comics creators, like I'm definitely gonna be able to stand out, you know? And I, and I came at it really hard. And then I met this motherfucker with <laugh> 10 times the careers man, 10 times the hustle of anything, you know, it actually was very inspiring to meet you, man. Um, just to see how you handle all your stuff, but also it was like, wow, man. All right. Cause uh, the few that I, the few things that I'd done before I saw you do your thing, I was already standing out and then to see it like happen on another level, I was like, yo, these are possibilities out here, man.

Sebastian Jones:

<laugh> uh,

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah, man. So do you, uh, I guess want to talk a little about like how you sort of form the way that you approach comics as a business

Sebastian Jones:

You want, like the trade se trade secret hustles

R. Alan Brooks:

<laugh> right,

Sebastian Jones:

Right. How to get charisma, like no fuck. Um,

R. Alan Brooks:

Behind the curtain,

Sebastian Jones:

The behind the curtain that sounds like it could be really naughty. Um, so how do, how to approach it as a business? Well, I think, I think for me, it initially came down to the content. Um, the kind of the kind of content that I wanted to create would essentially, uh, dictate the audience that would come rather than catering to an audience. I'm trying to please. And I think a lot of times, um, especially now, you know, we talk about this shit as all old bastard, you know, especially now it's like, oh, most people are trying to catch a trend and by the time that you've caught up the trend, it's moved on to something else, you know, like, oh, that's a hashtag and now there's new hashtag and so forth. So, so for me, I was like, and this is many, many years ago.

I started Stranger Comics with, with, with the guys back around 2008, 2009. And even with this, even if I said it now, I think just philosophically you take the same kind of, um, approach mm-hmm <affirmative> on how to build a brand that if it does not succeed, at least you can say, you know, it nourished your soul along the way, it nourished your, you know, you held firm with your own integrity and kind of put out the material that you wanted. So isn't there, isn't such a thing as a, yeah, you might not have a movie. You might not be a best seller, but if you can make a decent living or you can pay some bills, um, and make some folks happy then with, within the, the almost uncompromising vision that you have, well, then cool. You've done something right. Mm-hmm <affirmative> um, you, you you've kind of figured it out.

So for me it was like, okay, um, how can I tell stories that essentially, um, you know, celebrate the ceremony of black culture yet, um, within the stories create a, a deeply kind of human global experience mm-hmm <affirmative> so you've got these, you know, so that's just essentially some foundation, um, relatable themes, relatable stories, but then the backdrop is fantasy and it is this world I've created. And, you know, um, so it, honestly, bro, it was just, it was, it was born out of me wanting to reflect my own vulnerabilities. Hmm. Uh, my insecurities, my guilt and my wrath and uh, and, and try, and, and then if a reader could read this shit, they could then maybe put themselves in and be really honest and naked with it. Maybe the reader can then put themselves in those shoes and then connect with the story. And then maybe me as a writer. But I, I don't think, I even thought that far ahead to be honest.

R. Alan Brooks:

Hmm. You know, I think there's something really dope to be said about, um, expressing something purely from your spirit, not, not trying to like read the market or predict what's gonna be popular, but then also, uh, deciding what your definition is of success.

R. Alan Brooks:

This is, it is a, uh, Steven King quote that I I'll, uh, mm-hmm, <affirmative> he basically says, uh, amateurs, wait for inspiration. The rest of us, just get up and work, you know? Right. And I, and I think that's the real thing, like inspiration, I think is great for the idea, but the actual execution of the idea that's gonna be work and you have to treat it like work and set aside a time to do it and just do that shit. Right. Uh, in regards to the stuff around, um, your art pulling you away from your family, we also talked about sort of, uh, intangible goals. Is, is there like a sort of plateau that you see that you'll reach that will allow you to, to spend more of that time? Or is this sort of like, you're a lot in the life as a creative person?

Sebastian Jones:

Uh, it's a great, it's a great point. Um, you know, getting up there in years is, yeah, I do want to spend time more time with my family. So I think there's a, a financial stability, um, that needs to happen, um, excuse me. Um, and in order of that to happen, you need to put in the work. Um, so I think they'll hit a point, you know, God willing where I'll be able to spend more enjoying my time. Right. Um, with the creations and with family and less time worrying about, you know, is it, uh, is it X for the cost of the printing of the comic versus Y uh, should we better go with X, you know, and urgency and those types of things, but, um, you know, being in the game and having the attrition to get through that, you know, we are we're, we are inching there, you know, we're, we're getting to those places. Thank, thank goodness. But, you know, again, I think in this whole, this whole day and age of people looking for the out, or the quick fix or the, you know, the, um, the immediacy of new business, which is wonderful in entrepreneurship, but, but without the understanding of the attrition, right. You know, like in the pandemic, everyone started businesses, which is understandable and commendable, but at times I think there's not the realization of cost versus income. Right. Versus the reality of social media paying for your, um, for your business.

R. Alan Brooks:

All right. So we were talking about, um, the people being distracted by their devices and apps and all that stuff. Sure. And it seems like people largely come to art in order to have some kind of emotional experience like, uh, TV shows, movies, books, whatever it is. Um, and you also talked about sharing your vulnerability in your art. Um, mm-hmm, <affirmative> it, it's a really important thing for me as an artist to, to make an emotional connection with whoever is reading what I'm writing. So I guess I wanna hear a little more about what that means to you to make that emotional connection with the reader and, uh, and to share your vulnerability, like what it is that you're trying to get across.

Sebastian Jones:

Um, I, I guess it's just, um, I feel like it's a cathartic release. I feel it's, um, in a lot of respects it's, um, I'm, I'm lucky I'm blessed to be able to do it versus I think sometimes people are other writers I chat to, um, they hide their vulnerabilities more within certain characters. And some like here is a, a representation or fictitious representation of what I wish I could be, or, you know, and, and so on. I wish I, you know, great writers, whatever, whatever works for you. Right. Um, for me, I think it's just, um, no, I'm gonna rip that fucking scab off and I'm gonna show you, here's me bleeding right here. Here's my, here's my, my, my soul bleeding. And, um, and maybe you can relate as a reader like, yo my, so I've bled for the same reasons I've, you know, had a loss I've had relationship lose.

I've had, um, regret, I think a lot, if I would say there's a common theme, um, to maybe just openly talk about it is how do you heal and how so therefore, how do the characters heal? And if you've had some shit happen to you, if you can then go, oh, I can relate to this person, oh, look, there is a light for them. There is an opportunity for, for redemption and salvation and being better, you know, and being the cool, cool badass and whatever along the way, fine. Right. The John Wiki of it all, or the whoever you are, you, you know, if you're into that dude, you know, or, or whatever, whatever you're into, right. It was like, you know, the old samurai movies, the seven samurai, yo Jimbo, and then the spaghetti westerns and all these wonderful things that allow us, you're like, oh, shit, there is that.

I can, I can find that too. So I think in that, in that that's healing for me. And I think, and I hope it's healing for a reader. It's like, what would, how do we fuck with second chances? Yeah. We were given a second chance cause we already was regret. And I have a, um, a cheesy line that I wrote in one of the on teams. It was like, I think I wrote something like regret lingers longer than sin. So if you do the sin, does you regret out outlast the actual sin? How long do you continue to beat yourself up and, and so on?

R. Alan Brooks:

That's interesting, man. Yeah. I think, you know, for me, I'm always exploring some version of, um, how do I remain openhearted while still having the strength to do what I need to do in the world

R. Alan Brooks:

I appreciate you being on, uh, seeing you do all your stuff, like the, the level of dedication you have and, um, integrity. And the fact that we can have like realized conversations, you know, like all of that to me is constantly inspiring. I'm always happy to see whatever success, like any success that comes your way. I'm like that dude deserves it. You know what I'm saying? Mm-hmm <affirmative> yeah. So I it's really, it's really great to be able to, uh, sit and talk to you during this time.

Sebastian Jones:

Um, thank you. I, I appreciate it.

Dele Johnson:

Our next guests of season 2 were the Mexico City based wordsmithing couple of Diego Gerard Morrison and Lucia Hinojosa. Alan chats with this dynamic duo about how they each found their passion for experimentation with language in both English and Spanish. 

R. Alan Brooks:

I'm your host, Art a Brooks, artist, writer, and professor. Today I'm joined by Mexico City-based writer Diego Gerard Morrison and Artist Lucia Hinojosa. Say hello.

Lucia Hinojosa Gaxiola:

Hello. Hello,

R. Alan Brooks:

<laugh>. All right. So, uh, just to start us off, uh, you know, I mentioned a little bit of what you do, but can you say a little bit about who you are, and what kind of art?

Lucia Hinojosa Gaxiola:

Um, well, I am, uh, Lucia and I am an artist and experimental poet from Mexico City. I work, uh, with interdisciplinary practices, very much mixed and, and fluid. Um, I work with, with sound, with drawing, with, um, concrete poetry, um, installation, many things. And I also love to write, and I question every day what writing is and how can writing be expanded, you know, like, uh, sort of poetry, uh, so sort of like a poetic, um, exploration that, you know, expands boundaries. Um, and I also edit the Experimental Journal De Somatic, which is a bilingual journal with Diego Gerard, and we've been doing that for many years.

R. Alan Brook:

Nice. All right. Diego?

Diego Gerard Morrison:

I'm Diego Gerard Morrison. I'm a writer, editor, and translator based in Mexico City.

R. Alan Brooks:

Okay. So you guys both, uh, do a lot of work with words. And, um, Luci you were talking about sort of, um, what it means to sort of try to stretch the boundaries of what words can accomplish. That's a really fascinating thing to me. Um, some years ago I was reading a CS Lewis book where he was talking about, uh, the limitations of language to fully convey an experience, you know, like the difference between writing about skiing versus actually skiing. And I wonder if in your approach of using, uh, mixed media, like multidisciplinary, uh, practices, is that you trying to bridge that gap? Is that you're trying to find new dimensions to communicating some kind of idea?

Lucia Hinojosa Gaxiola:

Um, yeah. Well, I, I, I like to think about, um, language in the body, you know, not, not so much in the mind, huh, but in both places. And, um, I like to really think that we are creatures of language. You know, that's, that's the great thing that we share, um, you know, in, in consciousness. So, um, since you wake up in the day, you are, um, in, in some sort of way, you are experimenting language, you know, even if you're silent. So, um, yeah, so I really try to, to question, um, you know, symbiotics and semantics and sort of this, uh, the, the meaning of meaning kind of. And I think language is really, um, the vehicle for that. Um, so I don't know if bridging, but definitely diluting, you know, diluting like one, uh, one boundary with another. Um, so it, it's kind of utopic sometimes.

Um, but I really, really question and, and feel that, um, we can, we can have different approaches towards language and sometimes, um, I kind of have this, uh, way of explaining or metaphor about leaking. You know, like, uh, we are sort of leaking language. Um, you know, we are cuz because language is, is in the, in the boundaries and in the limits and in the relation between even non-human things. Um, but we are sort of embodying that. And, and, and language is being like leaked, but it's also being coming towards you. Um, in a way, I don't know if this is to,

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah, no, this is good. Cause I was thinking about, um, how when it's face to face communication with someone, um, the communication exists largely in like context or things that are implied, um, inflection, how we use our voices, our facial expressions, body language, all those kind of things. But when we are writing something, if we're trying to communicate something, if we're trying to create an experience, uh, the words often largely have to stand on their own. So it's interesting to hear you talk about bringing in different means of communication and how all that stands for you. So, uh, Diego, when you are doing your work, do these themes come into play? And then also, I wanna know, like since you're both doing the, this magazine and working together from time to time on certain things, how this sort of, uh, I'm gonna say chemistry of communication, <laugh>, how it kind of fits in.

Diego Gerard Morrison:

Right. Um, I would say that, uh, I think we arrive mostly at the same place when we work with language, both through cni. Hmm. I do think we do arrive to that place through different, different means and different routes, if you will. Mm-hmm. <affirmative>, I think language is the great mediator. You know, we're constantly mediating language and mediating experience through language as well. So as a novelist, um, I'd say care first and foremost of experience. So I try to use language to experience the census, the sensory experience of being in the world. So I think in the end, we do come to a certain place, which is similar, but I do it more through an analytical place, you know, and, and come to that, through knowing that language is an abstraction and then mediating experience through, through abstraction, you know?

R. Alan Brooks:

since we're talking about the effectiveness of language to communicate, is there usually a specific message that both of you are trying to communicate? Or is it just about sort of the exploration of what language can do?

Lucia Hinojosa Gaxiola:

Well,

R. Alan Brooks:

That's right. I come with the good questions, <laugh>. Go ahead.

Lucia Hinojosa Gaxiola:

It, it's funny, but I'm, I'm not that interested in being, um, effective, you know? Um, for instance, I'm, I'm quite interested in, in disruption or in, you know, I have a, um, aunt who had syndrome, uh, recently passed away, but she had a stuttering, um, difficulty. And I loved how, um, language got so refreshed, you know, in this, in this stutter, Huh. And, uh, how, how there were other means of communication that naturally happened, um, through this impossibility, you know, of, of, of, uh, effective communication. So, um, I really try to be open to, um, you know, breaks and crevices and, uh, and, and holes and, and, and things that are not, um, you know, not perfect or not, um, optim optimal. Um, so I'm, I'm more of a, of an investigator or of, um, observer of, um, of, of where are these things located and what they can do and how they can, you know, teach us, like they, the, the work can be instead of me creating the work, the work happens in a way by relation and will teach me something, you know, that I wasn't aware of. So, um, so yeah, I think, um, my approach to, to language has to do with those sort of, um, relationality aspects, um, and with, you know, intervals and silences and, uh, translations as well mm-hmm. <affirmative>, uh, written and spoken language. So, um, it's not, it's not very much about the narrative, you know? Okay. And Diego is, I think, uh, is very much about telling the story of that,

R. Alan Brooks:

Right.

Diego Gerard Morrison:

<laugh>? Yeah. I, this question about precision fascinates me, you know, I am obsessed with precision in language. Mm-hmm. <affirmative>, I often think that the most stunning images comes through, uh, mapping together images that are not precise, in other words, um, normally the, the most interesting images in writing come as metaphors of uniting two things that don't really go well together, you know? Mm-hmm. <affirmative>, and that can be understood as a rupture and language as well. So I think precision and rupture are not necessarily things that antagonize each other, you know? Hmm. I have a, um, an obsession of looking for writers whose work I know is good, but I can't really figure out why. And I think often because of how jarring the images are together, you know, so mm-hmm. <affirmative>, I, I, I do think precision and language can, can come from a place you don't really anticipate at times.

R. Alan Brooks:

This is interesting. Yeah. Like, uh, it's sort of beautiful to hear, um, we see, you know, you going for disruption and Diego, you going for precision. Um, but being able to see the relationship between them both, um, and that they're not necessarily opposed. I wonder, uh, as, uh, you both know at least at least two languages, Is that correct?

Diego Gerard Morrison:

Correct.

R. Alan Brooks:

Okay. So do you find, cuz it seems like, uh, the subtleties of, uh, different languages might allow for a different degree of disruption or precision. Do you find that bringing in, uh, different languages as you're writing something, uh, becomes sort of a useful tool in either of these goals?

Lucia Hinojosa Gaxiola:

Yeah, it definitely becomes, um, like a very fertile sort of, um, nourishing, um, and very like malleable and flexible thing of, you know, what things are, You know, like mm-hmm. <affirmative>, like, there's like a double veil of, of meaning and, uh, you can sort of use, um, it's, it's completely a different voice. When, um, when I write poetry in English, I really like it because I, I'm more aware of the construction of the word. Cause actually I learned lang, I, I learned English like very well when I was older, you know? Okay. In my, in my twenties. Um, so I, I I kind of, it, it's a different form of approaching language cuz you can sort of dissect more, um, you know, like the word rotate and the, and the word ro and how like ro is inside rotating, you know? Yeah. And like, what, what, what that could mean or what that does.

And when you, when you're born with your mother tongue with your language, it's, it's even more embodied so you have less distance to sort of see the little, the little things that are inside of words. Hmm. Um, and, uh, so I, I, I love using both and reading in both languages, writing in both languages, but, um, you know, it's like having two, two chairs and which chair do you wanna sit in today? Yeah. So, um, yeah, I think that that expands way more. Um, you know, it's, it's, yeah, it's like having more options to, to create in your own mind, you know?

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah. I love that. That's, yeah. That's dope.

Diego Gerard Morrison:

Yeah. I like to think of, uh, languages in terms of knowing more than one language. It's a vantage point. You know, it's a way to, to access the other, the other language from a point of view that you wouldn't have. So, um, to, to, to give an example, I think Spanish is a very nuanced language as opposed to the precision of English. Hmm. Spanish can be much more complex, and that is not to say that it's a better language or a worse language to a different way of understanding words. And learning to, you know, make them play together is a very interesting thing as well, because you can find ill crevices and nooks that tend to go and explore at times.

R. Alan Brooks:

This is really interesting. It's, it's, uh, sort of beautiful to to hear, um, well in some ways to hear what English looks like from the outside and, uh, you know, the kind of subtleties that you're finding as you go back and forth between these two languages. I wanna, uh, go back a little, um, like, so Diego, for you, how did this, this pursuit of language begin? What got you into writing to begin with?

Diego Gerard Morrison:

So, um, I had the privilege with, I mean, it might be a privilege and curse at the same time of growing up in a bilingual home. Okay. Like straight down the middle. So my mother spoke English to us because she was American and my dad is Mexican, so he spoke in Spanish most of the time. So I had a, like an early incline to read and write in both languages. Um, but I wouldn't say I was into language as I am today until maybe my late teens or something just in school developing a skill, you know, And it was my, my parents also lived very remotely when I was young, so they, in, they passed on to me, uh, very, um, maybe unhealthy reading, reading habit,

R. Alan Brooks:

<laugh>.

Diego Gerard Morrison:

Uh, so I think I took it from there. Uh, yeah, reading literature was always in my life, so I think it was a very, um, easy thing to, to, to, to go into later in life.

R. Alan Brooks:

Well, so what did it, what did it mean for you when you're reading? Like, what core did it strike? You know, like how did it, why did you keep doing it?

Diego Gerard Morrison:

Yeah. This is gonna sound very purist, but I think, uh, reading fiction mostly because this is what I mostly read and mostly read today, it gave me a tool to understand life as it was happening outside, you know, outside my body, in my body. So give me a tool to understand feelings, emotions, abstractions, and ideas as well. So, Wow. That's it, it's clung to me. Yeah.

R. Alan Brooks:

Hmm. Okay. And then Lu how about you? How did, how did you sort of, uh, start on your path to pursuing words?

Lucia Hinojosa Gaxiola:

Um, well, I think, uh, my, my grandmother was a big influence. Uh, she adored poetry. She, uh, she, sorry,

R. Alan Brooks:

You're being Censored <laugh>

Lucia Hinojosa Gaxiola:

The street. It's raining, there's traffic anyway, Right on. Um, but yeah, my, my grandmother, uh, loved poetry. She always said, you know, poetry saved me. Um, she, she had a, a a, she struggled. So, um, she saw since I was young that I had that interest as well. So she really, really, uh, pushed me and, you know, gave me books like, uh, you know, books that probably a, uh, uh, seven, eight year old girl wouldn't, uh, wouldn't read. But I also, um, had, you know, like a little bit the fat Yeah. Fat shirt, you know, the of the, of the books since I was young. Cuz I, I loved carrying my books. And, um, I loved also like the material aspect of the book. And, you know, once I remember it fell into like a puddle and then, you know, it got all wet, the book and then it got, um, dried and like the, the, the waves that happened, you know, the wave dried, um, and the form, like the sculptural aspect of the book.

And I think that sort of, that drift, um, of the object and the meaning of things really stayed with me. So I think that's, you know, this obsession of, um, the, like, the material aspect of words are, is something that probably started since I was really, really young. Um, and I, I always wrote in huge things, You know, I have a collection of notebooks since I was also really young, eight years old or something. So the notebook practice is really, um, I'm, I'm kind of addicted, you know, to, if I don't have my notebook with me, I, I get really nervous. <laugh> <laugh>. Um, so actually when I met Diego, um, is when I started reading novels. I didn't, I didn't really read novels before I read, um, poetry. So, um,

R. Alan Brooks:

Well that,

Lucia Hinojosa Gaxiola:

Yeah, it's been like a long interdiscipline sort of, um, search. Um, I, I started then with art and with film, so I wanted to be a filmmaker that I wanted to do. And, and slowly I've been, you know, putting all the, the aspects together and, and understanding one I wanna pursue.

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah. Nice. Well, listen, I gotta say, uh, I really enjoyed talking to you both. It, it was a nourishing conversation. I felt creatively nervous. I appreciate it.

Lucia Hinojosa Gaxiola:

Thank you so

Diego Gerard Morrison:

Much. Thank you so much. I for this time.

Lucia Hinojosa Gaxiola:

You're a great host.

Diego Gerard Morrison:

Great host,

Dele Johnson:

We’ll wrap up part 1 of our best of How Art is Born season 2 with our interview with musician Wes Watkins. Alan and Wes discuss when the latter first picked up a trumpet, his complex relationship with music, what “jazz” is, and being art. 

R. Alan Brooks:

Welcome to How Artist is Born, a podcast from the Museum of Contemporary Art Denver, about the origins of artists and their creative and artistic practices. I'm your host, R. Alan Brooks, artist, writer, and professor. Today I'm joined by Denver-based musician and Cosmos, Crusader, Wes Watkins. Say hello.

Wes Watkins:

Hi. I'm Wes.

R. Alan Brooks:

All right, man. So let me, uh, when did you, when did you first start playing trumpet? Like, how'd you get into this?

Wes Watkins:

Okay. I could never remember a time when I didn't want to play trumpet. Huh. The, my earliest memories before I wasn't play trumpet, I was asking my parents to play trumpet. Okay. Love Stevie Wonder. Big part of Sly and the Family Stone and gospel music. Yeah. Trumpet always hit me. I don't know why. Huh? I was singing, I was playing keys. And then in middle school, um, you know, out in Green Valley Ranch, I went to MLK. You know, I'm a Montbello kid. Okay. So I went to MLK and I was like, can I be in band? Right. They said they can give instruments to us. And my parents were like, All right. So I get into band and there was a dude by the name of Martin Martinez. Now Martin used to play, uh, uh, with, um, Lou Soloff. Lou Soloff being the lead trumpet player from, uh, Blood Sweat and Tears. Okay. Lou Soloff was that trumpet player. And he played Tonight Show Martin played with him on the Tonight Show or Letterman. Okay. In Vegas at the time, I think. And, uh, I think, I'm not sure, but I think that's, I, if I recall correctly, it's a long time

R. Alan Brooks:

On a prominent talk show. Yeah. , he played on a prominent talk show.

Wes Watkins:

Yeah. And, uh, so I ended up, that was my middle school band director. . . And my sister, sister right above me got into DSA as a drama major when I, and she was in ninth grade her freshman year. And everybody said, Why don't you go to DSA? Yeah. I said, I don't wanna leave Martin Martinez, he's a trumpet player. And, uh, I really like kicking it, even though like there was ruckus to be had . . And then I went to DSA for high school. Okay. And then Martin was kind enough to like, grace me with some lessons. And my, my parents did what they could, but we couldn't do a whole lot. You know, like, and um, he kind of blessed me and taught me a bunch of shit. And. That's trumpet.

R. Alan Brooks:

See, you know. Okay. So there's a lot of musicians, uh, performers, period, who, um, who perform through like a filter. Right. Like, um, they don't exhaust their souls completely. The reason I bring this up is because when I see you, the times that I've seen you play or sing, or really just anything musically, it feels like there is no filter. Like you were just coming completely outta your soul. Do you feel like I got that right?

Wes Watkins:

Well, yeah, because I'm not, I don't mean to hurt nobody's feelings, but I'm not making art for anybody else. Mm. Sometimes I hate playing music. . It's miserable. It makes me feel miserable. It just exaggerates all the things I relive traumas, past traumas. . . But for whatever reason, I feel like it's the right thing to do, so that I have to do it. Yeah. It doesn't mean I want to do it. .

R. Alan Brooks:

So then what is, what is the act of, uh, playing music, creating music in the moment? What does it do for you?

Wes Watkins:

Well, it depends on what's happened in the day, I suppose. Huh. You know, um, I would like to say it depends on the gig, but I suppose if I wanna be candid and a critical thinker, the gig depends on what's happened with me. . If I'm gonna be a front man, I have to admit, like everything I do is going to be dependent upon how I'm feeling. Yeah. And not just that, obviously, you know, being in any live band, there's collaboration. . But like, I'm lucky enough at the end of the day to have such amazing musicians who would not only intuitively know me Right. But will follow me. I'm lucky in that regard. You know, there's not a whole lot of, uh, non-consensual s a phone on, Look, I'm serious. I'm so sick of non-consensual saxophone . Um, like, you look at me and you play intentionally. That's one thing. You look at me and you just playing over everybody. I don't give a fuck. Go home drunk Sally.

R. Alan Brooks:

I've definitely fired musicians for doing that.

Wes Watkins:

I haven't. Yeah. No. I believe in a world of reform,

R. Alan Brooks:

It can reform in another band. I'm trying to trying to get my gigs handled. Yeah.

Wes Watkins:

 Also, this brings up, a question I had for you that I thought about.

R. Alan Brooks:

Okay.

Wes Watkins:

Kenny G is Jazz, Miles Davis is Jazz. Oh, Robert Glasper is Jazz. I don't know that I definitively agree with all those statements, but that's what our world says. . . So my question that I have is, what is Jazz?

R. Alan Brooks:

That's a big question. I actually don't feel like I'm qualified to answer that.

Wes Watkins:

Well, I just mean to you, I feel the same way. Like, I don't know. I'm not qualified to answer that question.

R. Alan Brooks:

Well, I, I would say more you more than me. Right. Because like, uh, I'm hiring Jazz musicians to back me up. I'm much more of a Hip Hopper.

Wes Watkins:

But I think Hip Hop is Jazz.

R. Alan Brooks:

I mean, they're certainly close cousins.

Wes Watkins:

Well, I think about, I think about origins of Hip Hop, right? Yeah. I think about sample based culture, right? . I think about DJs playing records that are instrumentals and MCs coming up on the park in New York and rapping over that. And then I think about, uh, Charlie Parker. . and Ornithology or Ella Fitzgerald and How High the Moon . . And it's the exact same thing. . Contra fact, you know, to rewrite the melody over a tune that already exists. . And that is Hip Hop. And then I think about the last poets. When the revolution comes. Right. And then I think about Gil Scott Heron, the revolution will not be televised. Right. It seems like the same thing to me. .

R. Alan Brooks:

Well, it feels like you answered the question way better than I could have. Well done.

Wes Watkins:

Well, I just think that oral history is Jazz.

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah. Huh. Okay.

Wes Watkins:

Yeah.

R. Alan Brooks:

Uh, specifically Black American oral history. Does that feel?

Wes Watkins:

Yeah. But I also think about Ife from Yoruba of Nigeria and I think about oral history.

R. Alan Brooks:

Okay.

Wes Watkins:

I think that I had a buddy . say to me years ago, Nick Hamberg, I mean Nick J Pedals of Spade he says the human connection can water. And he seed, he writes his songs, says Human connection to water seed. I was the only black dude in Pedals of Spade, but it was Nick J who said that to me. And, uh, I think to connect on the human level makes it really interesting. When I started thinking about it was safer, probably always. To pass things down orally to pass him to your community and your kids, your family in general, orally then to write it down, even though we knew we had to write it down . We said maybe this is a wiser option. . Because of what if the wrong people get their hands Yeah. On the right wisdom.And I think that's Jazz. . . And that's why collegiate, Jazz is a fucking joke.

R. Alan Brooks:

I'm really waiting for you to come out of your shell and tell me what you think about things. So stop, stop. You know, being so...Nah man. Uh, you know, uh, like it's interesting for me to watch the same process happen with Hip Hop. Right. Because they're, uh, things that are like, um, spiritual about like how you freestyle your delivery and stuff like that. And then to have people break it down to like, this is how you spit bars. You know, like have college courses on it on the one hand, I

Wes Watkins:

Think. But this college course is about how to spit bars.

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah.

Wes Watkins:

Wait. Okay. Continue on. We're just gonna skip over that.

R. Alan Brooks:

It's all

Wes Watkins:

Thing. We'll talk about that later,

R. Alan Brooks:

But I think on the one hand, like writing it down gives it a different place in history. It helps to sustain it, but it's like a diminished version of it, sort of.

Wes Watkins:

Now we can record it.

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah.

Wes Watkins:

Jazz didn't always have the option.

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah, that's true.

Wes Watkins:

Blues didn't always have the option. Yeah. Ife from Yoruba of Nigeria. What were those folks songs like when that started? Right. That Atlantian-ass religion. They didn't have the option. You didn't have the option.

R. Alan Brooks:

So you think you're saying that sort of like a recording is better than, um, making it like a course in a college or something like that?

Wes Watkins:

Much rather that people listen to what I was saying than they read it off of piece of paper and pretended like they listened.

R. Alan Brooks:

That's interesting.

R. Alan Brooks:

Huh. Okay. So you work in an art environment. Your life is playing music outside of that. Um, I don't know man. Like what's, what's important?

Wes Watkins:

Wait a second. Hold on. I work in an art environment and what?

R. Alan Brooks:

Uh, your life is music outside of that, right? Because so, um, cuz you have to work in the structure of a place, uh, that is not the art that you create, but it is an art environment. You were talking about some of that frustration cuz a lot of people I think that are gonna be listening are gonna be people who, um, who have their passion, that's their art and then have like their day job, they don't care for as much.

Wes Watkins:

Oh.

R. Alan Brooks:

Um, so I'm, the question I was getting to was like, how do you balance that, Right? Because you're surrounded by art and your day job, but it's not necessarily like, um, it's not your art. It's not your expression. And then outside of that you get to go fully into your expression. So what is that? I don't know. What's that like for you?

Wes Watkins:

I would like to say, You don't live in art environments. You. Are. Art. I think genre was made to intellectualize what musicians intuitively do genre of any art form Uhhuh is made to intellectualize what art intuitively does. . , an artist was made to intellectualize the character that art holds. You are art. I don't exist in an art environment. I am art. And so between music and there and I'm unapologetically myself, either way. . I have no time to play games. I know the stories of Courbet and Jonas Burgert and Leonor Carrington and Max Ernst and I sit and I research. Every art I encounter, I sit and I research De-gas. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Degas

R. Alan Brooks:

So what does that do for you when you're research and, and you're encountering? Is it like, is it feeding your soul? Is it like Yeah. What, what's the effect?

Wes Watkins:

It's made me decide that I cannot remove the art from the artist because I don't believe in artist. I think artist is the intellectualization, of what those who are art are. And then there's product. . I think that I, um, unfortunately now when I find out about the characters of some of these people Yeah. Especially in an art museum or any museum, I cannot eliminate the things that, that Degas did to women, especially. I cannot eliminate the fascism of, uh, Dali, which we don't even have any Dali on display, you know? . And in the same way I think about activism, cuz activism and artistry I think are very similar. I cannot eliminate the, you know, the racism of a, of a Gandhi. And so working at the art museum has made me decide that I need to be better.

R. Alan Brooks:

That's interesting

Wes Watkins :

Because I, as an artist, look, I want to have a damn good story by the end. But that does not mean that I want some grandiose thing. It just means I, I want a good story, you know? Like, I don't want that story not to be tainted with years of mistakes. So like, I'm in my thirties, I gotta make it at least another 40 years so that I can have 40 years of hopefully less mistakes.

R. Alan Brooks:

Okay. So you brought up, uh, not being able to separate the art, the person, the creator, from the art. Um, and you brought up activism. Are those things connected for you as a creator?

Wes Watkins:

Absolutely. I think about, uh, Nina Simone who says, uh, well the artist's job is to reflect the times. Yeah. Part of why I think museums are silly because it's a humans negating that their nature things last forever. Conservation teams like, don't get me wrong, I love museums. I'm a museum junkie, but like, it doesn't make sense to have things last forever. But for me it is that Nina Simone or that Robert Cole Scott, that Courbet. I have a quote. Would you like to hear a quote?

R. Alan Brooks:

You came equipped.

Wes Watkins:

I was doing, doing some research

R. Alan Brooks:

Yeah.

Wes Watkins:

Uh, at the museum earlier, Uhhuh, because I, I've fallen in love with Courbet Let's see, uh, um, Gustav Courbet says. In our so very civilized society is necessary for me to live the life of a savage. I must be free of even governments. The people have my sympathies. I must address myself to them directly. There is no separation from being an artist to art. Yeah. You are art activism, artist meant to reflect the times. And we have no choice. You are art. You will always be an activist whether you want to be or not, because your opinion matters to those who are not art.

R. Alan Brooks:

So then what is your vision when you're creating art? Um, for how it affects people? Like what, what do you want to happen when people encounter?

Wes Watkins:

I'm never thinking about affecting people.

R. Alan Brooks:

That's interesting. Okay.

Wes Watkins :

I make art because something is on my mind or something is going on with me. It is. That is the language. Music is the language, you know? So then I just, um, I just write, you know, and whatever comes out is what's coming out. Yeah. I don't care how people perceive it. If they don't like it. Okay. You don't like it? I don't care. Somebody's probably gonna like it and people don't like it. I don't actually care. I didn't write it for anybody else. I never write for anybody else. I'm just writing. I'm not writing even for myself. I'm writing. And, um, but also, you know, many, many artists have said it's not the artist job to be the critic. Even though I encourage everybody to be a critical thinker. Be a critical thinker.

R. Alan Brooks:

Okay. Well, uh, thank you. Thank you for talking to us man. It was really, really dope.

Wes Watkins:

Hey yo, thank you for having me.

Dele Johnson:

Thank you so much for revisiting some of our highlights from the first half of season 2 of How Art is Born. We’ll look back on episodes 6 through 10 a couple weeks from now. And How Art is Born Season 3 will be coming to a podcast platform near you this spring!

 

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[Image description: A photo of R. Alan Brooks in a comic book store. He is wearing a tan fedora, a red graphic t-shirt, and beaded bracelets.]

Photo by Joe Rogers

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ABOUT R. Alan Brooks

R. Alan Brooks teaches graphic novel writing for Regis University’s MFA program, and Lighthouse Writers Workshop. He’s the author of “The Burning Metronome” and “Anguish Garden” - graphic novels featuring social commentary. His award-winning weekly comic for The Colorado Sun, “What’d I Miss?” has been praised for its direct engagement with social issues. His TED Talk on the importance of art reached 1 million views in 2 months. His graphic novel work is featured in the Denver Art Museum's renovated Western exhibit. He hosts the Denver Museum of Contemporary Art's "How Art Is Born" podcast, as well as his own “MotherF**ker In A Cape” comics podcast, and has written comic books for Pop Culture Classroom, Zenescope Entertainment, and more.

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Instagram: @ralanwrites
Website: ralanwrites.com