James Gobel
Be and Breakfast, 2000, felt, yarn, acrylic and enamel on panel, 92 x 144 inches, courtesy of the artist.

The interview was conducted by Ilana Stanger of TheArtBiz.com.

Las Vegas is quickly establishing itself as a high-art city, which was just about the last association one would have with it five years ago. Did growing up in Vegas influence your art in any specific way?

Yeah, actually it did. I moved there when I was about 15. I’d come from Portland, Oregon, so it was kind of a visual shock for me. I’d never seen such lights or neon. By the time I went to college and went to art school there I wanted to celebrate that light, because I loved it. When I first began art school I did a lot of very glitzy stuff.

How did you fist get started with your current theme? Do you find that you get pigeon-holed by repeatedly depicting a specific, and specifically marginalized, type of person?

For the first couple of years showing my work that happened--I became pigeonholed as the guy who does the big, fat, gay paintings. More recently I’ve begun to do other types of work, and my upcoming shows will be of that. It happened naturally, and it’s up for debate whether people will accept the work or not.

What’s your new work like?

Until recently I used exclusively that subject matter, but now I’m working on interior spaces and landscapes. They all revolve around the same thing; they’re the paintings I would have done without the figure. They’re still based in photography. As I worked on figure paintings I found I became more interested in the background.

Do you use live models for your work?

Yeah. I started out using adult magazines, especially the personal ads in the back, but I found them to be limiting. I ended up searching out models.

Your paintings are layered with felt, yarn, and acrylic. Why do these materials work so well for you?

It’s part of the Vegas fascination. I used to do paintings with glitter, so that meant I spent a lot of time at craft stores. One day I picked up a bundle of felt because I thought it was pretty. Eventually I decided to try out that technique, and it slowly developed into what I’m doing today. It started out more cartoonish than they are now…not that my work is so realistic now, it’s still just yarn and felt with acrylic paint on top.

You were teaching at Santa Barbara right after you graduated--does it feel strange to be so quickly in the role of instructor?

Well, I started teaching right at the beginning of grad school as a teaching assistant. One of the reasons I went to grad school was to see if that was something I wanted to do. I like teaching, and that’s what I do now. It’s a way to hang out and talk about art with people, and then go back into your studio alone. Being in a studio can be lonely, and teaching is the social aspect of art.

What do you try to teach your students?

To look at a lot of art and make a lot of art and err on the side of quality.

Do you find it difficult to balance teaching and working?

No. The best way to have my days off is to teach. Teaching is like my weekend, and I spend the rest of the days of the week in my studio. When I first started it was more demanding, but for the most part it’s just a different way to spend the day. Also, I like looking at other people’s art as much as I like making my own. Teaching allows me to continue art research--to go to shows with students, invite artists into class.

What are your career goals for the next five years?

I don’t know. I typically think of myself one year at a time, but in five years…maybe to be on a new track, not necessarily to change my paintings but to take a new path like I am now with these landscapes and interiors. I hope to have the freedom to do whatever I’m doing, and I want to continue to show, and that’s basically it. I guess I’m not that ambitious--though a few European biennials would be great.

How did you end up signing with both your galleries?

They’re both through friends and just participating in art scene. The gallery in New York [Kravets Wehby] I got through a friend of mine who showed there and encouraged me to send slides. A friend also showed at the LA gallery [Hayworth], and since it was a new gallery that had just opened I got to meet the owner[Peter Bartlett]. It’s basically through participating in art scenes and getting a feel for where I would be comfortable.

Did graduate school get you into the art scene?

Yes. That was the most career changing decision I made. It exposed me to contemporary art on a much more intense level, and gave me the opportunity for contemporary artists to come into my art studio and give advice and become peers. Overnight things changed for me. There was a visiting artist every week, so over the course of a year I got to meet 30 artists, critics, and writers. Once a month or so I’d have the opportunity to talk to them on an individual basis, and studio visits were always optional. I was ambitious at first and signed up for too many visits, so I became more selective.

Did studio visits require preparation?

Just being exposed to that kind of situation for the first time--hanging out with someone you’ve read about in magazines--is mentally exhausting. You keep worrying you sound stupid, and in some cases you need to defend yourself depending on who you have in studio.

What advice would you give emerging artists?

Look at a lot of contemporary art. Work hard. Spend more time making work than talking about it. It’s easy to get caught up in dialogue and theoretical concerns, which are important, but work should come first. Studio time is the most important thing.

This article was originally created for TheArtBiz.com. It appears on NYFA Interactive courtesy of the Abigail Rebecca Cohen Library.