Statement–August 2009, on "Priscilla," first published in the catalogue "Michael Boles: The 2007-2009 Anna Lamar Switzer Endowed Teaching Chair"

Michael Boles, Priscilla, 2008. Aluminum, pigmented silicone, bronze, lexan, and acrylic.
39" x 89" x 1." Available for purchase–please contact the artist.

Priscilla. She's got to be my favorite. She was my first, that is, in this digital series. She is, however, somewhat of a hybrid, as there is a considerable amount of hand-cut metal in her. At the time my digital learning curve resembled something akin to how my EKG would look during a wild pig attack. Nonetheless, she works well for me, and holds the inaugural water jet sculpture title.

How often do we have a huge pimple come up on our nose or get hit in the eye with a rock doing yard work prior to a formal event? After much deliberation and attempts at augmenting her name with things such as, "Ruby," "Bump," and even "Aneurism," I decided that Priscilla alone was good enough. One mustn't dwell on her momentary shortcomings.

As she was being made I felt as though I was preparing her for some grand ball or event. When I was finishing her surface I thought back about some "impossible to name" movie I saw in which Janet Leigh (I think) was having some kind of stuff smeared on her face before a grand ball. It must have been cold cream or something, but I remember at the time wondering if there was anything in the known world that you could smear on Janet Leigh to make her look better. Funny how the mind works.

And then there is her tiara. I lost a lot of sleep puzzling over her tiara. I could not decide what to do with it, whether to polish it to a mirror finish or patina it dark or a myriad of other options in between. It once fell, hit the concrete floor, and bent one of the tines, which prompted me to look up tiaras online. Another morning was wasted when I got sidetracked looking up Jerry Falwell and nearly imported a virus, the only time that has ever happened to my Mac. Spiros [Zachos] bailed me out and told me to not go back to that site. I accepted his wisdom, returned to task, and found out that Queen Elizabeth II ostensibly had the largest collection of priceless tiaras in the world (go figure), many from Queen Alexandra who didn't need them anymore. I also found out that Wonder Woman used her tiara as a weapon. The irony was almost overwhelming. I decided that Priscilla's tiara should look worn, used, and used again, but not necessarily as a means of dispatching a foe. It then struck me that the finish couldn't be that important since one can't tell from a distance a priceless tiara from one purchased from Toys-R-Us without cheaters on.

Michael Boles, detail of Priscilla, 2008. Aluminum, pigmented silicone, bronze, lexan, and acrylic.
39" x 89" x 1." Available for purchase–please contact the artist.

Statement–August 4, 2009, first published in the catalogue "Michael Boles: The 2007-2009 Anna Lamar Switzer Endowed Teaching Chair"

Michael Boles, The Venus of Newgrange, 2009. Aluminum, copper, and chrisacola.
48" x 84" x 1." Available for purchase–please contact the artist.

There is little or no difference between the objects our ancient ancestors required for survival and the objects that they coveted. This is the same reality for us in the here and now. The value of useful and functional items in relation to those which are purely for visual or visceral gratification has evolved, and this mirrors the whole of history and the flux of human condition. The thing that is the most interesting is why nonfunctional items such as works of art have become more expensive and sought after rather than those that are useful and functional.

One cannot explain away the phenomena of the monetary value of paintings by artists such as Van Gogh or Vermeer. The craft of their work is only a small part of why their work demands the respect that it does. Scarcity and notoriety are understandable, but the way in which the general public canonizes artisans must amount to more than just those basic tenets.

Statement–August 3, 2009, On Color

Michael Boles, detail of Armor Piercing, 2009. Aluminum,
urethane, jasper, and acrylic. 46" x 80" x 1." Private collection.

I have never thought of myself as a colorist. I know color, but I prefer to use it directly, aggressively, and as punctuation. Almost all of the works that I have done with color deal with physical properties, rather than the emotional effects that color can generate. The exception to this is Armor Piercing, in which I attempt to create a heightened sense of aggression with the color red.

When one looks at abstract painting, one has to deal with some form of transformation of an illusion into an understandable reality. The Abstract Expressionists were among the first to attempt to deny this transformation by insisting that what they were producing was only paint on a surface and nothing more. Most of Western society has almost fully embraced this concept, whether it is agreed with or not.

The relationship between color and abstract painting is obvious, however it remains two dimensional and illusional. The tantalizing thing about relief sculpture is that the illusion is gone; they are fundamentally what they are. They exist within our own reality and cannot be interpreted within the realm of illusion. This dichotomy created by utilizing "real" materials on a surface, which is usually reserved for painting, can be disconcerting and appealing at the same time. An additional element exists in conjunction with the surface. In the case of my reliefs, it is aluminum, stone, bronze, and other materials that make the composition. One's interpretation and/or appreciation of the work must come from some different place–generally from somewhere at least once removed from the aesthetic of painting.

Statement–August 3, 2009, On the Heart Shape, first published in the catalogue "Michael Boles: The 2007-2009 Anna Lamar Switzer Endowed Teaching Chair"

Michael Boles, Armor Piercing, 2009. Aluminum, urethane, jasper, and acrylic.
46" x 80" x 1." Private collection.

The heart shape is a recurring theme in my work. I like the universality of the symbol; it lends itself to endless meanings when used in context with other shapes. We each have our own unique feeling about the shape, which makes it an ideal carrier of information. I don't use the symbol to express anything in particular such as love or affection; instead I use its universal appeal as a point of departure for compositions that redefine the meaning of the symbol itself.

Armor Piercing is a good example of how the heart shape has been co-opted as a vehicle of expression. Most consider the heart shape to be quite feminine for obvious and historical reasons. Armor Piercing, on the other hand, is quite masculine and phallic, and it suggests aggression, confrontation, and possibly violence. The contrast of these two ideas comes together to redefine each.

Statement–August 3, 2009, on "Ten Stars," first published in the catalogue "Michael Boles: The 2007-2009 Anna Lamar Switzer Endowed Teaching Chair"

Michael Boles, Ten Stars, 2009. Aluminum, bronze, pigmented silicone, malachite, and acrylic.
38" x 72" x 1." Available for purchase–please contact the artist.

Ten Stars is not the same as "Tin Stars," an obvious anachronistic slur at designated keepers of the peace; however, the suggestion functions very well as a part of this composition. Strangely enough, the purpose of law enforcement and artists are similar; both attempt to make this world a better place in which to live by actions that are not always agreed upon by the general public. Both are often immeasurably sensitive and often insanely brutal. For me, Ten Stars is more about the realization that any number of seemingly unrelated shapes or symbols such as an American flag can come together to produce a viable and evocative composition.

There is much more to the American flag than meets the eye.

This piece contains a symmetry of sorts; however the presence of a variety of elements leaves a palpable degree of uncertainty regarding its meaning. Contained within are suggestions of the American national identity, Ionic Greek capitals, prehistoric fossil formations, mysterious organic growth, as well as what I like to call, "five o-clock shadow." All of these symbolic references are purely intuitive, but by their context tend to redefine themselves.

We live in a world of signs, symbols, and directions, so much that we no longer need to read the "fine print" to understand what they all mean. Context has always been a primary venue for artists of the twentieth century, and I feel that the interpretation of this work as well as most all of my other recent works deals directly with how one understands or relates to this context.

Statement–October 2008, on Generating Art, first published in Po10tial Magazine

Michael Boles, Luff, 2007. Pencil on vellum. 9" x 12."
Available for purchase–please contact the artist.

As early as age 7, I became enthralled at how substance could come from making marks on paper without attempts at duplicating reality. I recall staring for extended lengths of time at what some would categorize as scribbling, primarily because I was allowed and encouraged to do so. The fact that I remember this event may or may not relate to what I now develop into art, but the generation of each is the same.

Statement–October 1, 2008, We Naturally Desire Harmony, first published in Po10tial Magazine, November 2011

Michael Boles, My Second Flip, 2007. Aluminum, onyx, hematite, and bronze.
36" x 31" x 1." Private collection.

We naturally desire harmony in our visual experiences. When it happens in space it can be confrontational; on a plane it maintains a tangible tactile quality and presence, and somehow it occurs as an individual validation resulting from a cumulative acceptance. My works are meant to be experienced viscerally, as that is how they originated.

Statement–May 8, 2007, on Symbols, first published in Po10tial Magazine, November 2011

Michael Boles, My Pretty Beaten Heart, 2007. Aluminum, bronze, onyx, and lead.
35" x 23" x 1." Private collection in Amsterdam.

The symbols, shapes, signs, signals, and phrases that guide us in our pursuits of everyday peace and tranquility permeate our culture. Challenging these things is a constant for artists in some way. It's nothing new to bash established norms. It is the legacy of twentieth- and twenty-first-century art.

I feel shapes, signs, and symbols are the touchstones of culture and are those things that provide a constant in a world that is on a bullet train to the unknown. They are simple, identifiable realities. They are the dirt under our feet. They transcend language, and they are only a problem when their context is disrupted.

Statement–July 4, 2006, on "Southern Crossing"

Michael Boles, Southern Crossing, 2006. Aluminum, bronze, slate, burled maple, malachite, and gold leaf.

44" x 60" x 3." In the collection of the University of West Florida.

Southern Crossing is like a dream of other places with layers and layers of things both realized and yet to be discovered. I imagine viewing through a window idyllic places with lots of water and stars. To see these places, we must peer into this other reality and push beyond the screens that mask a clear view into the background. Imagery in the foreground is still an illusion, but not by much. Southern Crossing is one of the few of my compositions that remains within a rectangular format.

Statement–June 20, 2006, on Visual Art Today, first published in Po10tial Magazine, November 2011

Michael Boles, Aborealis, 2005. Aluminum, bronze, and marble. 69" x 58" x 1."
Available for purchase–please contact the artist.

The more I am involved in the making and teaching of visual art, the more I realize just how much I really don't know it. In the world of today's "cutting edge" art, the simple things in life, such as structure and composition, appear to have become dead end streets. Why bother developing the visual aesthetic of a work when the trendy belief is that the merit of today's art lies in its ability to stun? I find the whole thing quite tedious and similar to how I feel about people who enjoy making spectacles of themselves.

I am the first to admit the importance of pushing one's artistic paradigm; we as a species require change, advancement, and renovation to appease our omnipresent curiosity. We also have the tendency to make things much more complex than they need to be. As an image-maker, I also must follow those directions that present themselves to me, and as time would have it, information availability doesn't necessarily make things any easier. (Blinders don't seem to be an option!)

My personal "aesthetic charge" comes from unraveling materials and reconfiguring them into some kind of new order. The act alone is often enough; other times the substance of the work presents itself to me in a much more philosophical manner and informs me about myself. My work is meant to be looked at, not to guide, train, or shock into oblivion.

Composition denies chaos and is the basis of the physical order within which we live. It embraces us in every aspect of our society; the variety fluidizes our individual and collective self image. We live in compositions. We wear, listen to, and eat compositions. The structure imposed by composition is inescapable. As image-makers, our ability to logically manipulate structure, content, substance, and all other facets of composition is what separates us from all those other non-image-makers. The result of these activities become a language in and of itself, and falls more often than not within the realm of pure aesthetic.

As an artist, it is hard for me to imagine the difficulty faced by the artistic avant garde at the turn of the twentieth century as they wrestled with issues of art that are second nature to us today. These pioneers inadvertently developed incredibly shocking compositions, an example being Malevich with his White on White of 1918. The legacy produced by those modern artists from 100 or so years ago is still with us, and those works that we now revere in a historical as well as an aesthetic sense were produced by a breed of rebels who chose to challenge the traditional paradigm of image making. Those challenges are continuing to this day, although the borders of the paradigm have grayed considerably.