Kevin, you discovered art early in your childhood. What was it that
developed that passion for art?
I received a lot
of encouragement as a child, which I think is essential. At first art
was simply fun; as time went by it became something I could do well,
then developed into a process of exploration, of giving visible form to
what was in my mind. It gave me the ability to create a world of my own.
Why did you choose the medium that you did?
Oil was the medium
taught me by my first painting teacher, Bill Martin. It's also the most
versatile tangible medium known to me. There's a sensuous fluidity to
oil that's very seductive, very rich; it's almost infinitely flexible.
However I've found myself wanting to branch out into other media as
well, particularly the three-dimensional. The medium I think in, so to
speak, is drawing. I find it's vital to my well-being to do at least a
little drawing every day.
I’m sure every artist would love to study art in Italy as you did. What
were the circumstances that afforded you such an opportunity? What was
your experience like?
In
1991 I was a painting student at San Francisco State. I had the good
fortune to get into the overseas studies program of the California State
University. I was among several students who had the chance to study
through CSU at the Academy of Fine Arts in Florence. It was a real
privilege to study there, and I learned a lot; but overseas study isn't
all roses and chianti: it was a tough, academically demanding year. I
really grew as an artist, changing my technique and my style.
How is it that you chose to be a commercial illustrator? And who do/did
you illustrate for?
As an artist I
must live by the skills I've developed over a lifetime, and this is a
viable way to do that. My clients range from ad agencies to
architectural designers to entertainment companies. I also take portrait
commissions, which I enjoy quite a lot. Most recently I've been doing
storyboards for a science fiction film.
What
led you in the direction of visionary or imaginative art?
I was a child in
the 1960s, so that period left a powerful imprint on my imagination.
I've always loved the hallucinatory intensity of the popular art from
that period, notably the album covers and concert posters, with their
brilliantly-colored eclectic melding of forms and styles. At eleven, I
saw a book on the works of Salvador Dali; they amazed and fascinated me.
I was also very impressed by Maxfield Parrish, whose landscapes
entranced me. I began to perceive that art could be about something
deeper, an expression of spirit. At age 14, I discovered the paintings
of visionary artists Bill Martin and Gage Taylor, which fully opened my
eyes to that possibility. This pursuit has been my passion ever since.
What inspires you? Where do your ideas come from?
The best ideas
come to me when I'm not looking for them, but just drawing in an
open-ended, stream-of-consciousness fashion: in short, when I'm
doodling. Once I've come up with an idea that strikes me as worth
painting, then it's a matter of putting it into a form that lets other
people see clearly what I have in mind, which is a more deliberate and
labor-intensive process.
Beauty inspires
me: beauty of light, color, form and space. In my art, I prefer to concentrate
on the beautiful and the transcendent; I'm not really interested in
creating works that explore the dark side of human experience, although
I acknowledge its existence. I want to create works that awaken
spiritual longing, which are characterized by immanence and
transcendence.
How is it that you developed your unique perspective system?
Many years ago I
read a book entitled "The Magic Mirror of M.C. Escher," by Bruno Ernst.
From it I learned how Escher developed his system of cylindrical
perspective projection, which he uses in prints like his lithograph
"High and Low." I soon realized that one could extrapolate this to a
spherical projection system. I was particularly taken by the idea of
creating an image that would be immersive, that you would
walk into and which would form your visual environment, projected on the
surface of a sphere that immerses the spectator. You could say it was a
primitive form of virtual reality, at any rate in its visual component.
Your globes are absolutely beautiful! What gave you such an idea? What
are the globes made of?
Once
I'd figured out how to make a spherical perspective system, there was
nothing for it but to go ahead and create something based on it. I didn't
have the resources to create a walk-in spherical painting, so I turned
the whole affair inside-out,
making small globes with images projected on the outside rather than the
inside. It's as though you've taken a person's field of view and turned
it inside-out.
The globes are
made of paperboard, which contrary to what one might suppose is quite
solid and durable. Each one began its life as a standard globe of the
moon, which I sanded and gessoed to create a ground for oils; it was a
laborious process.
Since your artwork seems to involve mathematics, are you involved at all
in sacred geometry?
I've never studied
sacred geometry per se, but I am sympathetic to that way of looking at
the world. I'm interested in geodesics, which involves the geometry of
regular solids, which in turn are rich with instances of the golden mean
and other numbers which are often traditionally regarded as having
special significance. I also find fractals extremely interesting,
although I haven't yet used them in my work.
Where do you see yourself going from here?
As I mentioned,
I'd like to do some three-dimensional work, which I suppose would be
sculpture. I'd like to design gardens, which to me are a form of sacred
space. Right now I'm working on a geodesic form of my walk-in painting;
it's really a kind of temple or shrine. Stained glass might make the
best realization of this idea. I'd also like to do more work in film,
including design and conceptual art as well as storyboarding. And I
think it would be fun to make a graphic novel. So there are many
directions in which I may go, and which comes first depends on my
choices and on the opportunities that present themselves.
What
advice can you give to fellow artists?
I feel it would be
presumptuous of me to advise other artists what to do. When I find the
answer to the vicissitudes of the creative life, I'll be sure to let
people know!
If you were to paint an ideal vision of the future, what would it be
like?
To me, an ideal
future is one in which human technological society has achieved balance
with the natural world, so that we're living in harmony with nature and
with one another. I'm convinced this will involve optimum utilization of
resources, and the application of Buckminster Fuller's "livingry not
killingry" approach to technology. I also feel that a high degree of
individual freedom is essential to a desirable future.
What would this
look like? I imagine that visionary architectures will be among the
artifacts that will help to transform our relationship with nature. A
much higher standard of esthetics in the things we make would also be a
sign of a more evolved civilization. I feel we need to respect the
natural world of which we are an attribute, and that reverence for it
will be manifest in the way we live our lives, in the things we make,
and in the way we treat each other. We have the potential to create a
world far better than has ever been seen, or to wreck the biosphere
while building a dystopian state that makes George Orwell look like an
optimist. It's up to us.
To view more of Kevin Kihn's
inspirational
artwork, please visit his website:
http://www.starfireart.com/. If you would like to send him an email, his
address is:
kevin_2050@yahoo.com.