James Bridges

James Bridges is a tall, dashing man who bears semblance to some actor or writer or stranger on a bus, I can’t ever put my finger on which. He has the air of an artist from the late 70’s; when they were like rockstars and you didn’t question their actions. Like I said, he’s tall, but I think it’s the confidence he exudes in his work that is more the cause for his very large persona.
I once had the opportunity to go to James’s studio and watch him paint:

I walk in. The space is covered in books, scattered papers, old records and paint – everything is covered in paint. There’s a single chair in the middle of the room and I wonder where he sleeps. I daydream that after a whirlwind of painting and movement he simply crashes to the ground and sleeps on the hard concrete until morning. 

We spend time talking about all of the things I wish to talk about with others but don’t out of fear and insecurity. Suddenly, I’m inspired. I ask if we can do a painting together and in an instant we’re standing in front of a large, half-painted canvas holding a brush. James says something along the lines of, “I hated this one anyway, let’s paint over it.”

I start painting. We take turns back and fourth with the same brush. Just as I picture Jean Michel would do, at each of his turns James paints over everything I’ve done, but its better, light years better. Therefore I cannot protest.

Dashboard/Courtney Hammond: At what age did you begin expressing the artist in you? Were you a kid that drew with mud or did you realize your artistic qualities as you got older? 

JB: A certain creative restlessness was there from the beginning, I suppose. 

Dash: In the past, you’ve defined yourself more as a musician than a painter. When did this change and why the switch in expression?

JB: Music was, is, and always will be there as a part of the restlessness. Painting is, for me, a more contemplative, quieter way to handle the restlessness.

Dash: Do you work with a rhythm like you are performing for a crowd or is your act of painting more structured and planned?

JB: Rhythm is a good place to start but harmony is the ultimate goal. Harmony however, demands planning and structure so I suppose the balance of the two is what I work to achieve.

Dash: What, if given a palette of infinite colors and a blank piece of board, would you do first?

JB: Pick a color.

Dash: Describe your morning.

JB: A gentle and subdued mid – tone, blue - grey - green light, the residue of dreams, humbled into the cold authority of the street, there is no sky in NYC so you look down and plow forward, no place for reflection, eggs over easy, bacon and hash browns, work.
Dash: Do you sign your paintings?

JB: Only in the few very rare instances in which I have sold something.

Dash: Where does the core of your imagination lie?

JB: In EVERYTHING.

Dash: What has been your inspiration to keep chugging along as an artist?

JB: I suppose my inspiration and frustration combined are what drive me. These two are a function of each other and they both keep chugging alongside the who’s, what’s and why’s in my immediacy.

Dash: What are your thoughts on the political roles people play to be successful in the art world? Can this be a set-back? 

JB: I have never had a set-back that probably wasn’t in my mind to begin with. Ambition can be a double-edged sword.  Success, in any arena of life is, as far as I can see, 99.9% luck.

Dash: Your paintings are very abstract. Is there a constant in your work?

JB: Maybe the proof is in the pudding, or the colored mud, so to speak.

Dash: What are your thoughts on galleries? 

JB: I have never had one so I don’t know, seems like a nice concept though.