Abstract art is for kids
At my opening last Friday at baby grand Gallery, very early in the evening, I was approached by someone who works at the Grand Opera House. He had been looking at my work for a few days and was full of compliments—loved the work, went on about specific paintings. He told me he's a painter himself, takes lessons, and had recently realized how difficult it is to actually do good abstract painting. He'd tried it and had given up, gone back to representational work. He mentioned who he studied with, and said one of my paintings reminded him of that artist's work.
Then he said something else: the ushers the night before had all been talking about how their five-year-olds could do this.
I stopped him. "Oh, don't tell me this. I don't want to hear this."
This statement makes every abstract artist cringe and roll their eyes. It hurts. So we tell ourselves the people saying it are ill-informed, and we dismiss it. That's what I did initially. I tried to focus on his positive words—and he did go back to speaking about what he liked, doing the kind of critical analysis artists do when they encounter paintings they can engage with. I suspected he meant to convey that he and I were in an elite group, separated from those others who didn't realize the qualities of abstraction.
But after the fact, when I recalled the conversation, that one negative comment stuck out from all the positive things he'd said. That's just human nature, isn't it?
The next day, I thought: I need to reframe this.
Because this is actually a positive.
In my practice, and in the practice of many artists, mostly abstract but even representational artists, we really try to work from a place where the intellect is not ruling. We endeavor to release our habits of how we encounter the world so that we can experience it as children do: in awe and amazement, with curiosity.
I have all the training. I can do representational work. (People are always amazed when I occasionally paint a straight-on representational landscape, or a glass of bourbon, or a portrait, or a drawing of a house. ) Sometimes I want to flex those muscles, prove to other people—and myself—that I still can.
But I return to abstraction because I'm drawn to the exploration involved. It comes from the same place that children live in, and that's really my aim as I go into the studio: to leave behind, not all the learning I have, but to not let it constrain and constrict me. Achieving that childlike state is an achievement. It means you can look at the world in awe and wonder and discovery. Look at that flower. Look at the way the sun hits it. I practice that every day. I practice being in awe. I practice gratitude. It's for my spiritual health, yes, but it's where I live in the studio.
So if that is what those people were saying when they said I painted like a five-year-old? I'm laughing. I'm delighted. Yeah, I've achieved something—painting like a five-year-old who does know all the rules of composition, who does know how to use color and light, how to use line and shape to evoke sensation.
What helped me reframe this was remembering walking through the Guggenheim at a Mark Rothko exhibit. I remember one painting clearly—just being in awe of the emotional response this man was able to elicit from viewers through his combination of color and technique, the feathering of edges. And hearing people, no doubt from a tour bus, walking by grumbling: "My five-year-old could do this." "I don't see what's good about this."
If this means I'm in the same league as Rothko, and Frankenthaler, and all the others about whom they say the same stuff, I'll take it. I don't think I'm quite there yet, but thank you for the compliment.
About the Exhibition
Moving Deeper into Light is my solo exhibition currently on view at baby grand Gallery inside the Grand Opera House in Wilmington, Delaware, running through May 31, 2026. The show features new work from my "Seeking Spirit in the World" series as well as abstract landscape paintings and works from prior series, rooted in observation of the Brandywine Valley, resolved in memory and intuition.
Exhibition Details:
Where: baby grand Gallery, Grand Opera House, 818 N Market St, Wilmington, DE
When: Through May 31, 2026
Want to visit? The gallery requires appointments (available Monday-Thursday, 10am-3pm). DM me and I'll arrange your appointment and personally escort you through the exhibition.