David Michael Slonim American

In the tradition of 20th century painters like Joan Miro, Alexander Calder, and Pablo Picasso, David Michael Slonim explores the expressive potential of abstract line, color, and texture. He notes that his artistic heroes were themselves drawing on the rich history of abstraction as a form of expression throughout human history. "From ancient cave paintings to the art of the Egyptians, Greeks, Japanese, Chinese, Africans, Celts, Native Americans, and more," Slonim says, "art of every culture has expressed the belief that there is more to life than meets the eye. This is one reason the art of every culture includes examples of abstraction." Humor, pathos, and spirituality often coexist in Slonim's paintings, inviting the viewer to experience layered responses which may vary over time. Like music, his paintings are meant to refresh the mind and soul.

Slonim’s first successes in the art world came in 1998 as a landscape painter, with subsequent gallery and museum exhibitions at Overland Gallery, Scottsdale, AZ; The Wickenburg Art Museum, Wickenburg, AZ; Richmond Art Museum, Richmond, IN; and the C.M. Russell Museum, Great Falls, MT. Turning to abstraction in 2014, he has exhibited with galleries in New York, Boston, Denver, Indianapolis, Scottsdale, Jackson Hole, and The Hamptons, with solo museum exhibitions at Indiana University East and Richmond Art Museum. Slonim is also an award-winning children's author/illustrator, recognized for excellence by the NY times, Wall Street Journal, Amazon Editors, and NY Society of Illustrators. He and his wife Bonnie have four adult children and four grandchildren.

Statement

In the studio there is a moment when the painting begins to "breathe," when I feel my blood pressure drop and there's a sudden sense of quiet. That's typically how I know a painting is done--I can feel it.

That feeling of rightness is always a bit of a shock. Often it feels like I'm watching it happen, as if the work is painting itself.

Good paintings come out of a place of curiosity and openness. So I listen to jazz, or classical, or 70's funk while I paint--whatever it takes on a particular day to maintain that open state of mind.

Each painting is a search for harmony and emotional resonance, growing out of multiple drawings, miniature color studies, and doodles. They drift over tabletops, stick to the walls, or scatter on the floor.

But at some point, you have to let go of "the plan" and let the painting tell you what it needs to become. Experiments in space and color eventually give rise to something more. The result is almost always a surprise.

I've heard artists of all types acknowledge the unexpected resolution as part of their creative process. As Robert Frost put it, No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader.

When a painting moves a viewer it's a gift, but it's a gift the artist received first, alone in the studio. Sharing that feeling with others is the reason I paint.