I've always been fascinated by the idea of an artist's "style"; that thing about their work that makes any piece instantly identifiable as one of theirs, especially as it pertains to illustrators. I've always considered myself a fan of illustration before an actual illustrator, and when an artist catches my eye, I tend to latch on. I'll try and track down every piece of theirs I can find, collect on a nearly obsessive level, and look over their work in chronological order, seeing how their "style" changes. These artistic focuses tend to continue until I find some way to deconstruct what it is about their work that I find so captivating; trying to break down the sum total of the art into its base components. Oddly enough, I've never really been able to explain what my own style is, though there are people that claim they can pick out a piece I've done from across a room.
In my work, I can pick up pretty much any piece I've done in the last 15 years and see pretty clearly which artist I was really in to at the point. In no particular order, there has been the Sam Kieth phase (specifically what he referred to as his "tiny line" era), the Bernie Wrightson phase, the Tony Moore phase, the Eric Powell phase, the Drew Struzan phase, the James O'Barr phase, and probably at least a half dozen more. And I would be incredibly remiss not to mention the John Dyer Baizley phase.
I first came across Baizley's work about year before I started tattooing, so 2011/2012. It was the same time I started listening to his band Baroness. It was immediately impactful; this staggering mixture of Pushead and Mucha, wrapped up in all sorts of iconography that seemed to imply so much more than what was on the page. The fact that Baroness also quickly became one of my favorite bands only intensified my adoration of the man. And as I started to tattoo, I found that the work he did, as it influenced my work, was a stellar application for tattooing. My coworkers, supportive friends, and online followers had all heard me lamenting about how frustrating I found the experience after a period of time, as I couldn't seem to even conceptualize imagery that didn't seem to just come out as a lesser version of something Baizley would do. But I needed to draw, I needed to tattoo, so the work continued. Eventually, I moved away from the style, as Baizley's influence on album art and concert posters became more and more prevalent, and it bothered me that we all seemed to just be biting Baizley. However, many of the pieces I did during this period of time remain my best selling prints and most lauded illustrations, even though they are nearly a decade old.
So, earlier this week, while driving up to my dads place in the country to visit and help out with some winter-y tasks around the property, I spend about three hours just blasting through Baroness' discography. It had been a while since I had spent a lot of time listening to them; though YELLOW AND GREEN was in daily rotation for more than a few years after it came out. Subsequently, because I'm such a fan physical media, the cds were sprawled across my passenger seat for the three hour round trip, the stunning album art clearly visible in the afternoon light. Additionally, there are half a dozen Baizley prints on the walls of the bedroom. And then I got an email reminding me of an event I'm participating in for Surly Brewing next week, in which a bunch of the artists that have done labels for the brands Darkness beer are all going to be selling art and signing bottles and such next Tuesday. I thought it might be fun to make up an exclusive piece for the event. So I sat down and started drawing.
The idea came quickly, and felt like a nice throwback to the Baizley-ish pieces I used to do. In about three hours, I went from rough sketch all the way to the shading study over the clean pencils. All that was left to do over the weekend was ink it and color it and then get the prints made. And I was really stoked with how it came out. Really very quite stoked. Much more so than I usually am with anything I'm working on. So much so that I began to become suspicious of it. So I sent the sketch to a few of my friends, and they confirmed my growing suspicions. It may just be a bit TOO much like Baizley. Sure, there are things he would never do (because he would probably do them better). And yes, the work he is doing now is actually fairly different. But once the thought hit me, it wouldn't leave.
So. Maybe I'll still ink it. And maybe even color it. Someday. But probably just for my own satisfaction. Because, at best, I feel like all it will be is a really really good imitation of the work of an artist I adore so much.
Somtimes, you've just got to walk away.