About
Artist Statement
I try to make respectable, serious art, but something always goes wrong. My good intentions are inevitably overcome by the allure of the comic grotesque. If it isn't weird, funny, or both, I lose interest. This goes back to my childhood, when I had the same sense of humor and strange fascinations without all of the societal pressure and judgement. As an adult, I have responsibilities that I take seriously, but my art allows me to continue to play, laugh, and question the world like I did as a child.
Many of my artistic interests began early in life. My love for drawing the figure started with Ninja Turtles, followed by baseball players, and then X-Men. I collected comic cards and admired illustrators like Greg and Tim Hildebrandt for their realism and drama. I would stare at those cards for a long time. I read comic books, too, but I was always disappointed when the pictures inside weren't as detailed as the covers. I wanted images that I could really spend time with and get lost in. I wanted stories, but I didn't necessarily want to look at word bubbles. I feel the same way today. In my narrative paintings, stories are implied but not stated overtly.
Gross things and comedy always went together in my mind. I thought farts were hilarious. The whole body was hilarious— all of those orifices, bumps and bulges, hairy parts, private parts, and smelly feet. I didn't understand why everybody was walking around acting so serious in bodies that were so perfectly designed for comedy. As I grow older, I understand how bodies can be unpleasant reminders that time is passing, and that we're not going to live forever, but I don't want to be in denial of my own mortality or feel ashamed of my body. I want to retain my sense of humor and age gracefully. Depicting grotesque bodies and exaggerating forms to the point of absurdity allows me to laugh and take pleasure in harsh realities that I might otherwise choose to avoid.
It’s not just the body and death that cause shame, but any imperfection, struggle, or failure. These are parts of life that we shouldn’t feel bad about or hide from others. We should be proud of them, because they cause us to learn and grow. In my sculpture “Journey through the Digestive System,” the digestive organs are metaphors for the different stages of life and the changes people experience as they move through the system. It makes me feel better about my own messy journey and proud of how I came out the other end.
Making art is about play. If I’m not having fun, I know I’m trying too hard to live up to adult expectations. I’m thinking in a results-oriented way or trying to impress viewers with my skill and intellect. The process becomes tedious and the results are predictable and dull. Play, on the other hand, is open-ended. It allows me to let the world in as I work, make spontaneous changes, and be flexible as ideas develop. It’s messy and inefficient, but completely engaging. Adults are expected to execute and achieve- not play. I have to give myself special permission to indulge in unstructured time and follow my juvenile impulses wherever they take me.
Bio
Nathan Margoni is currently the Director of Education at Krasl Art Center in St. Joseph, MI. He received his BFA in Painting from the Cleveland Institute of Art and his MFA in Sculpture from SUNY Purchase College. He has exhibited work at Schulamit Nazarian (Los Angeles, CA), the Urban Institute of Contemporary Art (Grand Rapids, MI), and attended residencies at Wassaic Project (Wassaic, NY), Vermont Studio Center (Johnson, VT), Millay Colony (Austerlitz, NY) and Kaus Australis (Rotterdam, NL).
Contact
nathansmargoni@gmail.com
