tea
and bones with mike
He’s an occasional
contributor to this very website. He’s
also an oilsmith, weird music junkie, zombie film groupie, retail slut par excellence, furniture suit, and now
a proud father. Far too modest, he would
be one of the last people to make any great claims of his art, but I managed to
draw him out of his shell and share a few things with “the public”. (by the way, all images on this page were used with full permission from the artist...thanks,
Mike)
us: How about you start with the basics...where
did you grow up, your siblings, and such like that.
Mike: Armada, Michigan. Lots of cornfields and
plows moving to and fro. Two older sisters who introduced me to the joys of
music (such as The Beatles, Duran Duran and Devo) and movies (such as Star
Wars and Blood From The Mummy’s Tomb) and a younger brother who I
corrupted as much as possible.
us: Armada, huh? We understand that's a
pretty...uh...rural area. What did you do for fun as a kid?
Mike: Played Atari and Dungeons and Dragons games
with the neighbor kids. Went to the movies once in awhile and traded comic
books.
us: What did your parents do for a living?
Mike: My dad worked with machinery blueprints,
making changes on them and using AutoCAD for Tooling plans. My mom raised the kids.
us: Now you've established yourself as quite the
artiste. When did you first really notice "art", and what was it?
Mike: I've always been more into pop culture than
snooty elitism. I never went to the Detroit Institute of Arts and ogled the Van
Goghs; instead I devoured Marvel Comics' offerings of the 1970s. I was taught
how to read by my father reading issues of The Incredible Hulk to me.
us: Do you have a preferred
medium?
Mike: Oils. I love pencils and ink, too, but you
just can't beat the way oil blends and the colors available.
us: What's that thing in the corner of your
art? How are you signing that?
Mike: Just an "MM" in a box. Too lazy to sign my full name.
us: What do you think "speaks to
you" most about the artwork that you like?
Mike: Well, I love realism. I'm not one for putting
a triangle in one corner of the canvas, scribbling some lines in the middle and
then a blue circle at the bottom middle and selling the piece for $500.00. I
love pictures that have depth and a dynamic sense of style.
us: Is there any underlying "message"
in the art that you create yourself, or any common themes?
Mike: Not really, just that I watched too many
monster movies as a kid. You could psychoanalyze me and say that I consider
myself "monstrous", as I was teased as a child for being overweight
or that I'm angry at the world for having been teased, thus the focus on
negative imagery. I just think this stuff is cool.
us: Who (or what) has influenced you
most as an artist?
Mike: I adore the detailed works of Basil Gogos,
John Bolton, Bernie Wrightson, Simon Bisley, Frank Frazetta, Steve Bissette,
Brom and all the artists of pulps, comics and magazines who have worked their
wonders over the years. In terms of closer influences, my aunt was a wonderful
artist who worked in pastels, and my good friend Dennis and brother Phil have
dabbled in drawings, mostly focusing on giant mechas and spandex-clad
superheroes.
us: Your aunt...was she an artist by trade, or
was it more of a hobby for her own enjoyment?
Mike: Own enjoyment. She did lots of Indian portraits and some
clowns and stuff. Don't think she ever
sold any of it.
us: I just saw a piece on Dave Attell where
there's a guy in Key West who airbrushes art on people's bodies. I guess that's not really a question, is it?
Mike: Nope.
us: Frank Miller has said that every artist has a
few "blind spots" in their work.
For example, when he was working on the Dark Knight series, he realized
that he simply couldn't draw a car, which of course led him to practice nothing
but cars for a while. When you encounter
something like that, do you tend to avoid it and draw/paint something
different, or try to work through it?
Mike: Work through it. Feet are hard to draw the first few times.
us: Any forays into 3-dimensional art
forms, such as sculpture?
Mike: Heh! Batman and Spiderman sculptures in high
school. Both are long gone. Not my cup of tea.
us: What about whittling? Ever whittled
anything?
Mike: Next question, please.
us: What do you think about the new
generation of computer-based artists? With all the tools available, do you
think the computer medium is maybe a less-legitimate form of art?
Mike: No, not at all. Some of it's quite amazing.
What I'd hate to see is an over-reliance on computers to the extent that it
replaces traditional drawing methods because it's flashier, newer and easier.
We've seen this quite a bit in Hollywood with special effects largely being
done on computers. In some cases, that's a good thing. A case in point where I
consider it a bad thing would be with things like werewolves. Compare the
realistic, painstaking work that monster makers like Rob Bottin and Rick Baker
put into films of the early '80s such as The Howling and An American Werewolf In London to
the weightless, fakey cartoons that ran rampant in An American Werewolf In Paris.
us: What do you think of the current
school of thought that artists without degrees are unemployable?
Mike: I don't think that's the case. I'm sure
there's lots of very talented self-taught artists out there who have landed
quite lucrative positions. I think perseverance is much more important than
just having a piece of paper.
us: Do you find that your experiences with school
have helped or hindered your own artwork?
Mike:
In my case, I definitely believe that school helped. Although I didn't
go to a prestigious art school, I do know for sure that my instructors helped
me quite a bit with composition, perspective and – especially – adding contrast
to my work.
us: You've worked a LOT of retail. What was the most bizarre "request"
that a customer ever made of you?
Mike: Well, that would be a certain customer who
asked me to take an expired coupon, then reacted with a creative expletive when
I didn't.
us: We also hear from our sources that you enjoy
banging the drums. How did that start?
Mike: I used to bang on tables, washing machines
and such at home. My parents broke down and bought me a second-hand kit from
the Armada Flea Market in my early teens.
us: Do you think you'd ever want to
pursue anything further with the music angle of your life?
Mike: I hate to sound stodgy, but no. I have taken
that as far as I really want to go. Now that I'm a parent, I feel like I should
take it easy and focus on upgrading my house, making money and raising my
daughter. Maybe I'll teach her how to drum and draw if she wants.
us: What did your parents think about
the drumming?
Mike: Surprisingly open-minded. I'm sure I rattled
the walls a lot with my John Bonham imitations. They never once complained.
us: That’s pretty cool. Most parents can get quite edgy about
that. What about the artwork?
Mike: Again very supportive. My mother was the
best, asking me for doodles and giving me pointers on my paintings when I had
something askew.
us: Our readers are probably screaming
now, so it's time I asked about the movies and music. Let's start with the
movies. What the hell? Lucio who? Dario what? What do you think was your first
foray into the non-mainstream cinema?
Mike: I know it's easy today to go down to the
local Best Buy and obtain a copy of Zombie Lake and The House With Windows That
Laughed all letterboxed up nice and neat with Dolby Digital encoding on
DVD. The case wasn't so 10 years
ago. I loved the '80s, the biggest
decade ever for horror films. However,
the genre almost dried up completely in the early '90s probably due to
overexposure and endless slasher sequels provoking boredom. Horror was salvaged somewhat by Wes Craven's
popular Scream, but even that was lacking real substance. Worse yet, it
instigated a recursive, "know-it-all" formula that many horror films
of the '90s latched onto with profitable glee. I turned to cult magazines such
as European Trash Cinema, Videooze and Video Watchdog for reviews of import Spanish tapes of Paul Naschy
werewolf-fests, Lucio Fulci's rotting walking cadavers and the hypnotically
terrifying Blind Dead. These were
films that weren't on cable and probably would never be. They delved into a more adult, subversive
sense of superstitious dread and painter-like sense of composition than most
American films. Part of the fun of these
films was that they were so rare and hard to track down. You could bet your ass that if you found a
copy of Joe D'amato's ode to necrophilia and bloody heart-munching Buio
Omega at your local Blockbuster that it was an extreme oversight by the
selfsame company who banned The Last Temptation of Christ and Debbie
Does Dallas from their racks.
us: What was the last movie you saw (not
counting repeat viewings of movies you've already seen)?
Mike: The Hulk. Why the hell did they make Bruce's father a
killer?
us: Have you ever seen something (a movie, music
video, painting, sculpture, whatever) that was so shocking, you thought to
yourself "I never want to see
that again"?
Mike: Not as far as fiction. I've seen some of
Clive Barker's decidedly gay imagery and the pseudo-snuff of Asian atrocity
films like Men Behind The Sun and Guinea Pig. These are things that are extremely
unpleasant and upsetting. In terms of the films, I find them (along with the
Spanish short Aftermath) to exist solely for the revulsion effect. I choose
not to collect them and watch them again and again not because I find the latex
and karo syrup to be offending, but rather that there's not much story to them.
Explicitly filmed gore can be effective in films if it's set up and advances
the storyline. If it's just a half hour of a human being taken apart on an
operating table and eaten, it loses it's repeatability appeal. Give me Fay Wray
and the Empire State Building or Indiana Jones in some underground cavern any
day. I shy away from debasing stuff like rotten.com as much as possible and the
only thing I've seen that really upset me was the on-air suicide of R. Bud Dwyer
which was included in a Skinny Puppy backing video tape from one of their
concerts.
us: Have you ever gone to a cemetary
just for the atmosphere?
Mike: Yep.
My wife has made tombstone rubbings with charcoal and I've wandered around. Never in the dark, mind you; too creepy.
us: What do you find so appealing about your
choice of avant-garde (and I don't mean that in the traditional sense)
filmmakers?
Mike: I wouldn't really consider the Euro-cult
stuff to be avant-garde. I appreciate Fellini (especially "Toby
Dammit" from Spirits of the Dead) and Bergman (Persona in particular)
for their work in the '60s. As far as contemporaries, I think David Cronenberg
and especially David Lynch are the bravest auteurs currently working. The fact
that films as engrossing, uncommercial and downright weird as Mulholland
Dr. can be released nationwide gives me hope for the current state of
cinema.
us: When you sit down to watch
something, what is the best thing it can do for you (shock you, make you think,
make you laugh, make you forget, etc)?
Mike: I think that creativity is the most important
thing. Whether it be the comedic creativity of an episode of THE SIMPSONS or
the lamented FAMILY GUY or the gut wrenching scene of a man's head popping off,
growing spidery legs and running around upside down across the floor in John
Carpenter's The Thing, I like entertainment that hasn't been done
before. I like unique ideas in any format.
us: If you could recommend one movie to our
readers, what would it be? Why that movie?
Mike: I know everyone's seen it and that it's old
and passé by now, but if a child was born today and they were cut off from the
outside merchandising world of cartoon shows and commercials and the first
thing they saw in a theater or on TV was one film, I would recommend Star
Wars. Not the greatest writing or special effects (by today's
standards) but very exciting and very fun. Probably 1970s nostalgia talking
here, but I just never get sick of the film.
us: The music...what was the first piece of music
that made you think "wow...that is different, and so amazing"?
Mike: I grew up on The Beatles (again I never get sick
of them, endlessly listenable) and started to love synthesizers. Early new wave
stuff like Duran Duran's first album was an introduction to expanded sound
possibilities outside of a guitar and drum setup. I never heard Kraftwerk until
college, so I had to make do with synthpop by bands like New Order and Depeche
Mode. They're all amazing works. If I had to pick one "desert island"
disc, it would have to be something by Skinny Puppy. They are the perfect blend
of experimental music, intricate synth patterns and horror movie ethic that I
hold so dear.
us: What speaks to you the most about
the music you like? What do you hear in the tones and rhythms?
Mike: Again, I like sounds that cannot easily be
identified as a simple acoustic guitar and steel bass drum. I like intricate
patterns, a sense of epicness, originality and experimentalism. I also like
driving drum beats that are memorable and get me moving when I don't feel like
going to work.
us: What was the last band you heard for the
first time?
Mike: Katatonia.
They're okay.
us: Has the music you listen to influenced your
artwork? How could it NOT, right?
Mike: Actually, no it hasn't. I love listening to
music while doing artwork and it provides motivation. However, it's the imagery
of film that influenced my artwork, some of the music that I listen to and most
of the books that I read.
us: Well, I stand corrected then. Speaking of the artwork, is there any one
person, non-artist, non-musician, just "regular person", that has
given you inspiration, either directly or indirectly?
Mike: I can't narrow it down to one person. My
entire family and friends have all influenced me with words of encouragement
and sometimes specific constructive criticism which has helped immeasurably.
us: Would you ever consider
collaborating on a sort of comic series with anyone you know? Because someone
might be considering such a thing...
Mike: Ever, yes.
Now, no. My job and my insane
attempt to get my bills paid off is taking up all my time. $4700 to go and my wife's school loan from
1999 is paid off. Yay!
us: When we talked to local musician shift(less), he expressed a dislike for
people in general, a preference for machines. For a long time, the common idea
was that the world was getting smaller, but one could argue now that it's
growing larger. With less face-to-face communication among people, what do you
think that bodes for society? Or do you feel, as he does, that it's a good
thing, that human interaction is mostly a "necessary evil"?
Mike: I have great respect for Mr. (less) as a
musician and I regret downloading his album off the internet and not buying it
like I should have. I do have to disagree with him on this respect, though. I
don't think that humans as a whole are necessarily a bad thing. I know that
sometimes a bad apple can spoil the basket (to use an Armada analogy), but
misanthropy was just a stage for me, one that doesn't make sense when you look
at the big picture. There's much to be happy about in this world and getting
together with friends and loved ones is important for the exchanging of ideas.
I agree that the technology of video games and the internet and so on has put a
dent in real interaction, but I feel that most people's natural instinct is to
gather and this will prevail.