Collaborative Accident

To describe artist Daniel Gulick is to say he's a Jack of all Trades. He reminds me of this most days when he messages me to tell me of his profession of the day, "Today I am an astronaut." "Today I am a plastic surgeon who specializes in adding extra toes." "Today I am a firefighter." "A sailor." And it goes without saying, Gulick is always a painter. He has always been a painter. We chatted back and forth online for a good month or so before we determined that we should meet up in person and discuss art. We made plans to grab a drink on a Tuesday night.

Tuesday came around and I didn't text him. He didn't text either. Apparently neither one of us felt like grabbing a cocktail with a stranger. I went shopping with a girlfriend instead.

It was as she and I were in the personal items aisle discussing the merits of the various types of offerings (well we're feminists, ok?) when two fellows walked by and caught my eye. I turned and whispered to her, "I think that might be the guy who I'm supposed to be having a drink with tonight...And look at me. I'm a wreck. Oh this is terrible...Maybe he won't recognize me." I was sure he didn't. I messaged him shortly thereafter to ask if we had indeed been shopping in the same vicinity, and if we had, comment on his extreme height.

It was him. And yes, at 6'6", he's really tall.

And the messages continued, "I'm a gummy bear chef today." "Goat breeder. But only the rare breeds." "Amateur pole dancer. I always fall." And then we finally decided to sit down face to face. He invited me to his studio to see his latest work, a collaborative show with his friend and fellow artist, Brian Scott Hampton. He said, "Bring whiskey." I said, "It's after 9, I hope you have red wine."

As I walked up the drive, I was greeted by a looming man and an equally looming dog -- Hoover -- Gulick's great Dane.

As I entered his studio, I saw bright exploding canvasses, hung, stacked and suspended about. It looked just as you'd expect an artist's studio to look -- messy and colorful with an odd and unconventional sort of order. The type of order that only makes sense to the creator. Every artist has his process and Gulick is no different in that regard.

Chemical Reaction.

I asked him how he developed his process. "Well, it was on accident. I literally stumbled into it back in college. I was working on a piece and I stumbled into the table and knocked over some paint thinner and it spilled over onto the painting. I grabbed some rags and tried to clean it up and the result just got better and better. It just kind of happened and I just went from there."

This accident has resulted in something other worldly. And I let him know that to look at these, they remind me of what you might see if you were to go scuba diving in Atlantis.

"Well, I've been really inspired by outer space and exploring different realms lately," Gulick said.

I pressed for more details regarding his process. "Only Brian (Hampton) knows my process. Before this, nobody has seen me paint. It's like your Grandmother's secret fucking cookie recipe. (To collaborate) I really had to let go of a trust issue. I trust Brian. He has his own style but we have the same kind of eye. We know what works."

Gulick then began to point out where his contribution ends and Hampton's begins. "There's a juxtaposition. Two different styles surviving on one canvas but they don't look like they're competing and they don't look contrived. Instead, the art looks organic and natural. My style of work is very free flowing and expressive. Brian's work is very meticulous and process-focused. When we work together, it just flows but there is definitely still an element of unpredictability. We don't know beforehand how these paintings will evolve. That's why we've called the show The Moment of Risk. We each have to let go of control a little bit."

Looking over the canvasses, I can see the layers of paint and then chemical decomposition. They are all abstract with unpredictable and unexpected shapes flowering and spidering out in gradient waves of color. Some of the shapes hint lilac hued orchid blooms, other shapes resemble bloody intestines. Organic, indeed.

Gulick is currently working as a tattoo apprentice with his friend Tony Carrera at Pen and Ink (Gulick and Carrera have been creating murals together for years), an art instructor, a muralist and a production designer for Extreme Makeover Home Edition.

"With the show, the process kind of varies. Usually, they'll send me a 3D model of their design; I'll send sketches; They'll either approve the sketches or send feedback; And then I usually fly out and help create it on the build site."

In addition to their numerous gigs, Gulick and Hampton have carved out time to get into the studio and create.

"For us, the studio is a laboratory. We get to just come in and play and experiment. This show is an opportunity for feedback. We really want people's honest reactions and input. I mean, we think it's great. Whether people love it or hate it, we'll keep painting. We're having fun. We're doing what we love to do," Gulick said.

The Moment of Risk is on display at Pen and Ink Gallery, 1530 S. Harvard Ave., beginning Oct. 8. From 8-11pm patrons can take part in a reception and meet the artists. The exhibit is on display through October.

Send all comments and feedback regarding Arts to natchley@urbantulsa.com.

Visit nicci6.com or facebook.com/SeekingNicci6 for more topics from Nicci Atchley.

--

Visit nicci6.com or facebook.com/SeekingNicci6 for more topics from Nicci Atchley.