Uncle Charlie

Uncle Charlie (Charlie Hardwick) is a Houston based poster artist who has been making rock posters for over twenty years now. His clients have included bands such as Radiohead, Red Hot Chili Peppers, and the Beastie Boys. I first learned about Uncle Charlie when I was teaching myself how to silkscreen in high school. I was making fliers for my own band at the time, and after handing one to a teacher of mine, she informed me that she was married to one of the premier local poster artists. Naturally I became quite familiar with his work and even got the chance to interview him briefly. Anyway I figured he would be good to share with you all since he is a good example of a working artist from my area of the country that you all may not have come across otherwise.

While these are examples of his most recent work, all done in giclee, some of his older silkscreened posters can be seen in a very thick book entitled The Art of Modern Rock. What I like about his posters is the use of color, as well as the overall sense of completeness he gets through composition. There are many subtle touches, both in terms of design/decoration and in terms of imagery. You really want to look at these posters and explore them. I find that there is usually something a little bit disturbing or grotesque in each of his posters, which is interesting when paired with the bright attractive colors.

While I find his newer work to be more refined and perhaps more mainstream, his older work had a particular quality to it that I believe embodied the character of his signing name, Uncle Charlie. Cartoony and grotesque figures dominate his posters from the mid-90s, and each seems to tell a short but usually horrific story.

For more information and images, check out Uncle Charlie's website

STATEMENT #4

As a person of mixed racial and ethnic background, I am quite familiar with existing in and identifying with two different groups at once. Although I identify with two unique cultures, I am often pressured to choose between the two. It is an awkward, sometimes uncomfortable position to be in, and at times it makes me feel that I am not a part of either camp, but in my own grey area between the two. I suppose this is the reason for my fascination with people's perceptions of each other, and my own perception of myself, which is constantly influx. The act of making art has, as a result, become for me a constant reexamination of myself, as well as a way of questioning notions of truth and identity.

What defines identity? As people, we individually identify with communities greater than ourselves, with society, collective entities that often dictate certain protocols, perception, and cultural codes. In a sense, then, we are what they say we are. These groups use various tools and constructions to differentiate themselves. Clothing and fashion, social cliques, race, sexuality, language, possession, and nowadays technology are all basic methods of building an identity. And yet, on a much more personal level, there are the much more interesting and mysterious relationships that individuals develop through their experiences that really seem to either define, or completely shroud them. Intimate elements, and nostalgia, in the form of keepsakes, heirlooms, words and text, and collections, help us to remember who we are. While these things are ephemeral by nature, they carry a timeless quality.

Exploring this ironic truth raises questions about reality and perception, as well as the idea of simultaneous attachment and detachment. I try to achieve a similar sense of uneasy truth in my work by juxtaposing or combining seemingly opposing imagery, dealing with collections and series, and through my choice in materials. Wood, paper, string, and clay maintain the natural and handmade quality that I think also exists in my prints, while simultaneously belying the occasionally modern and technologically generated content of my imagery. I also believe that such natural materials and the direct human involvement in their manipulation helps to give my objects and prints their own intimate and timeless quality.

Statement 3

What defines identity? There is more to it than "identity is who you are". As people we individually identify with communities greater than ourselves, with society, collective entities that often dictate certain protocols, perception, and cultural codes. So, to an extent, we are what they say we are, or what we are supposed to be. As a person of mixed racial and ethnic background, I am quite familiar with existing in and identifying with two different groups at once. Although I identify with two unique cultures, I am often pressured to choose between the two, which makes me sometimes feel that I am not a part of either camp, but in my own grey area between the two. What interests me about all this is picking up on the tools and methods that people use to identify themselves, and then visually re/deconstructing them. Some examples might be clothing and fashion, social cliques, race, sexuality, language, possession, and nowadays technology.

I attempt to do this in my work in a number of ways, though primarily by juxtaposing or marrying seemingly opposite imagery. By presenting an image or collection of images that has something amiss, something that seems contradictory to our normal way of perceiving, I hope to momentarily confuse my audience. The approach varies depending on the project, but I try and stick to simple materials in the presentation of my prints and collages. Wood, clay, string, and nails maintain the handmade quality that I can think can be found in prints, while simultaneously belying the occasional modern and technologically generated content of my imagery.

My way of working, as well as my desire to engage the viewer through a sort of “double-take” reaction, stems from what I believe to be the human experience as well as my own personal life and my imagination; my own personal search for self, which is constantly influx. Through playing with notions of truth and perception, I want people to temporarily join me in uncertainty, and investigate, question, and reevaluate the way in which they see the subject matter as well as themselves.