ROB WILSON: Light Out of Darkness
About the Work I call these PHOTO-PAINTINGS. I take photographs in camera raw, I edit them in Adobe CRW and I import them into Photoshop at the highest possible resolution. I make many layers, I use many tools, I "paint with pixels," all in the computer, using a Wacom tablet and stylus. I print on high-end Epson inkjet printers, giclée on canvas. I sometimes augment the print with acrylics. A number have been sold in art competitions and through galleries. The work is a form of Photorealism, except the derivative starts with the photo itself rather than the attempt to emulate it in another medium, which I acknowledge is a much finer skill. I do not consider myself a fine artist, nor am I trying to deceive with fake paintings. I have great respect for painters who can create an image entirely with their eyes, brain, and hands, using brushes and paint. I cannot even draw. I have been a director, I have a good eye, I see meaningful moments (when I am calm and focused) and love the play of natural light. This gallery is called "Light out of Darkness." The title is a metaphor for the darkroom, where I used to spend countless hours. I had a sign on the door, "Please keep door closed, or all the dark will leak out." It was my refuge from reality. I once got to spend time with Ansel Adams in his darkroom, watching him plunge his gnarled fingers into the fixer, teasing out the ideal range of blacks, whites, and grays in a 16x20 print of "Moon Over Half Dome." He was a perfectionist; once the print was safely in the wash, he turned on the light and lifted it up, ran his famous eye closely over the beautiful image, then ripped it in half; not good enough. I was mortified. This work is very absorbing, and a sanctuary from our troubled world. Working in the dark, I become lost in the process; I escape all worry. I dive into the abstract depths at the pixel level of the picture, past the surface into a surreal space the camera cannot reach. It is an almost hypnotic journey, to a place where I vanish and emerge hours later. Every now and then, someone likes the result and pays me money for a framed inkjet print. I enjoy their company.