Trial and Error while collaborating with my son.

(again, but with different art)

I was recently offered an exhibition at Bankeråt in Copenhagen, opening later this year in October. There’s a natural, laid back coolness to the place, some lovely permanent art installations, and I was generally thrilled to have a section to myself for a month. I’ve been eager to start the next memoir series, detailing a three-part story from my early 20s. It involves my old band having two run-ins with the NYPD, playing a show at CBGBs on Septeber 10th, 2001 and the subsequent events of the fateful next day.

Bankeråt is not the place to tell that story. The nuance of discussing global power struggles and the carceral state in America is incongruous to a bohemian cafe that hosts drag bingo. While pondering what to show instead, my son Alexander cranked out a beautiful drawing of a Food Hall that inspired the direction I’ll take instead. He makes these Where’s Waldo type compositions where you’ve got to find tiny details throughout. A pineapple, someone grilling a burger, or a fish.

So I digitally redrew his original pen and ink piece, and laser engraved it into a block of wood paneling. Now I’m working out color schemes in anticipation of staining it.

My son loves to draw, does it constantly, and he’s got strong opinions about his aesthetic preferences. Lots of women, cute animals, and vibrant colors to start. Everyone’s kid is a miracle and a marvel unto themselves, but in my case there’s a humbling aspect that makes me think he’s the real deal. I look back on my own work when I was his age and realize: this kid is better than me.

This is no easy task. There’s so much visual information, it’s like sorting through the thoughts of a… well, a child. Every room has a story’s worth of details. Humanoids serve food to cats who wear bow ties and sit upright. The building’s exterior has been blown away and wallpaper sags, peeling away and exposing the brick structural walls. Business trundles along as usual. A cat performs on stage in the background while a woman swings above the entire scene.

Staircases lead above and below the scene, indicating we’re seeing just a portion of a mega-complex. A penguin serves a fish dish, oblivious to the flying saucer that has crashed behind them. I love the chaos and lightheartedness.

My color schemes were deemed to overwhelming by the focus group (wife), so it’s back to the drawing board. Something subtler, that allows the details to show without disappearing into the ocean of chicken legs, soup pots, and rogue fruits.

Updates incoming.

Chris & Alexander.