Xeze

Your works are filled with vibrant, almost overwhelming colors. How do you decide on your color palette for each piece?

I don’t decide, I just bullshit it all until it feels like it’s right. Do I have red? Do I like red? I’ll use red. Did I contaminate my yellow paint? Guess it’s green. I also like to use colors I like. And if I don’t like them, I won’t use them.

You describe your art as coming from the most painful parts of your existence. How do you transform pain into such vivid and surreal imagery?

I think my work is less about depicting pain and more about putting a spotlight onto the dichotomy between different states of being that can all exist at the same time. It comes out all bright and colorful and swirly because I can’t make myself pay attention to it otherwise. I think the transformation of pain into art is a distinct point that can’t really be pinned down. I don’t know if the pain ever becomes the art, but instead it contaminates my view of the world and I just can’t stop myself from subconsciously vomiting it all out onto the canvas.

There’s often a mix of humor and darkness in your paintings. Do you see your work more as catharsis, satire, or a bit of both?

I feel that my work falls somewhere between satire and meaningless-bright-color land. Most of the time, I’m not thinking about what I’m doing until after I’m done.

The characters in your works seem to live in a psychedelic, uncanny world. Who are they to you—self-portraits, archetypes, or entirely imagined beings?

They’re just my guys.

Nostalgia and childhood pressure appear as recurring themes. How has your past shaped the visual language you use today?

I think about all the shit that happened to me and laugh until I cry. Then I think about commercial entertainment, and shopping, and theme parks, and rollercoaters. And then I think about myself. I feel like I always think about myself. I think about how I will sound in this interview. Crazy, self absorbed, 18? I think that’s why I’ve been putting it off.

I don’t know, I don’t think much about my visual language, my style is a combination of things I like, combined with the limitations of my ability as an artist.

Your art could be seen as both grotesque and playful. How do audiences usually respond, and does their reaction matter to you?

People gravitate towards it because it’s bright and shiny and colorful and in your face. It takes a certain kind of person to appreciate the yucky parts. Some people say it’s great, and some people say that I’m talented but I’m wasting it and I should just paint realistic landscapes.

Brooklyn has a very diverse and energetic art scene. How has living there influenced your practice?

The city is good, it kicks me up the ass sometimes.