An art enthusiast approached me with two burning questions; "How did you? and
"What do you?" I'm really never sure how to answer without suddenly bursting into
artistic rhetoric.

If you'd have asked Francis Bacon, he'd have said; "The job of the artist is always to
deepen the mystery." By nature, I'm a hyper-active chatterbox who can go on for
days at a time ranting about art technique, theory and philosophy.

(Yes, I'm a right-brained power nerd.)

To a point, I agree with Mr. Bacon; nothing spoils the rabbit-out-of-the-hat trick more
than knowing that the rabbit was hiding in a secret panel all along. However, I also
feel that giving a viewer a peek into an artist's methodology not only helps to make
their work more accessible but also more tangible. So with this page, I hope to satisfy
both points by answering as many questions you might have in as vague a manner
as possible...
I have been asked what I have against working on canvas. I don't have anything
against working on canvas, it's just not my thing. My work is my legacy and it would
kill me to see it disintegrate during my own lifetime. Wood panels last longer,
because they age better. Plus, they introduce a beautiful, organic sense of
imperfection that I feel compliments my style of painting.

In a way, the false assumption that I use mechanical methods in my production is a
testament to my compulsively meticulous nature.
I am reminded of Rodin -- my greatest influence -- and how he was often accused of
making life-casts of his models. In truth, though I often work from photo reference in
pursuit of a more candid moment -- be it found images or material that I shoot myself
-- all my work begins as a hand rendered drawing -- always has, always will.
I feel that there's an art to art that many self proclaiming "artists" have yet to grasp.
My work does not merely begin and end with the final image. It begins with the pure
pigments I mix my paint from and ends with my signature. From glazing and brush
techniques to sacred geometry and the golden ratio, my methods are as they were
since Michelangelo, just applied to contemporary themes. As an artist, I never stop
learning, growing or developing... To do so I believe, would be creative suicide.
In my observations, I have seen our
society evolve with our technology by
training us to absorb a lot of instant
information. For all we know, "A.D.D."
may not actually be a psychological
disorder but rather a side-effect of our
broadband, high-speed lifestyles. With
that in mind, instead of bombarding my viewer with tons of
superfluous information that forces them to slow down their
thinking and potentially alienating them, I instead decided to go the
other way and eliminate whatever I consider to be unnecessary information. In this way, I invite the viewer to fill
in the gaps with their own content as a sort of visual "ad libbing." It's the difference between speaking and being
articulate and ultimately, my attempt is to create an after image that lingers in the viewers mind.         -- David DeRosa
upon a time, at a gallery show far, far away...