Philip Koch, The Voyage of Memory, oil on canvas
38 x 38", 2008
I've come to the realization that I don't fit in on any of the branches of the art world. My paintings have been alternately described by others as both "traditional","realistic", "visionary", and even "tinged-with-the-surreal." I don't disagree with any of that.
It is not my intention to criticize the contemporary art world. After all, I am part of it. One thing bedeviling me is how much of contemporary art is so concept driven. It breaks down boundaries and grasps for the newest of new media. Often I find the work bewildering.
Artists of course are thoughtful people. We have a lot to say with our work on multiple levels. But my hope for my paintings is to have all that cognition fade away to let the viewer lose themselves in my work. I'm after a visceral reaction to nature, not an intellectual discourse on it. My paintings are a celebration of how deeply nature resonates within us as human beings.
There's another whole wing of the art world that produces works that would satisfy the most savvy art collectors of the 1860's. No one loves the old masters more than I do, yet whenever I try to duplicate their methods it's felt like I was trying to squeeze my size eleven foot into a size nine shoe.
Philip Koch, White Mountain Pond, oil on panel
7 x 10 1/2", 2014
There is something unique to every epoch. We see and feel a little differently that the generations before us. Their best recipes revealed their sense of their experience. My task today is finding new forms to convey how life feels today. We have to write a new cookbook.
What I am doing with my paintings is marrying the excitement of my early years of abstract color-drenched painting with my deep affection for the romance of 19th century paintings of the landscape. It's not the most obvious match. And it puts me on a branch of the great tree of art where there's not a lot of company.
I suspect that all of the people who view my paintings each have their own sense of not fitting in. I hope my paintings take them to a place where for at least a moment they can feel at home.