.

Artist

Stephen "Steve" Wysocki

Painter, Original Acrylic Paintings

County Line Studio
N19236 County Line Road
Armstrong Creek, Wisconsin 54103

(1) 715-336-2019  |  Email

Through October 2009, the Catherine Conroy Smith Gallery, curated by Suzanne Fraker at its home inside the Northern Michigan Bank's Iron Mountain branch, exhibited a collection of artwork by Steve Wysocki.  That exhibition prompted the following review, published locally in the Dickinson County and stateline area.  Although the exhibition has ended, interested parties may still arrange to see the paintings at Wysocki's studio.

Review

Steve Wysocki: Local Painter, Emerging Talent

By Jim Hogan

            The Catherine Conroy Smith Gallery may be the best kept fine-arts secret in the community.  I never see anyone else in there just looking at the artwork.  Curated by veteran local artist Sue Fraker and hosted by the Iron Mountain branch of Northern Michigan Bank, the downtown gallery is exhibiting through October 30 a fine young painter to whom secrecy does a disservice.
           Encouraged by Jane Steinke, his art teacher at nearby Goodman High School, Stephen “Steve” Wysocki of Armstrong Creek and County Line Studio pursued his muse.  He painted.  He studied at the Milwaukee Institute of Art, at Nicolet College, and at the University of Wisconsin—Green Bay, from which he received a baccalaureate in studio arts in 1997.  And he continued to paint.  If he didn’t find his muse, apparently she’s finding him.
           Wysocki paints with acrylics on canvas and on masonite boards.  Works displayed at the bank’s gallery include still lifes and portraits, but mostly landscapes – what he principally paints.  In a brief bio, he remarks that he always attempts to create a mood or an atmosphere in his work.  In most of the work exhibited here, he accomplishes that.
           Color is critical to his painting, and he claims the influence of the Color Field Movement.  Indeed, consistency of form and process prevail over gestures, brushstrokes, and action in many of his exhibited paintings.  But that’s not to say that emphasized texturing doesn’t predominate in other work, although it’s still informed by his signature use of color.
           The textures, whether exaggerated or routine, have a pleasant depth and presence.  They give the content not only a solid foundation, but substance and resonance.
           I like the colors.  They’re as friendly and inviting as a cartoon.  Exaggerated and offbeat, always substantive, both the vibrant and the flat, they do in fact create an atmosphere and a mood.  In them is a quality strongly reminiscent of some the best American Art Deco WPA poster paintings of the 1930s.  Others, however, might easily detect flavors of Modern, Realist, and even Pop Art as they might detect them in Edward Hopper’s finest paintings from the ‘20s through the ‘40s.  But Wysocki isn’t merely a pale image or copier of Hopper.  He brings his own vision, style, and oomph to the table.  His work is less lonesome, desolate, and melancholy.  It’s more animated and content, hopeful and enchanted, and it’s suffused by some great, if invisible, spirit.
           A feature I find particularly inviting about Wysocki’s exhibition is that – but for the rhinoceros painting – all of the content is of ordinary stuff.  Even if it’s not moving or poignant, it connects.  Most people will be able to appreciate this exhibition.  It’s not all artsy-fartsy – it’s familiar, it’s recognizable.  Yet it’s also different, it’s also unique.
           There are a couple of items I find difficult to review.  Real eyebrow-raisers.  Maybe my art criticism is rusty or maybe, to the painter’s credit, he’s defying standard description and reviewer’s malarkey.
           One painting is called The Look.  Brother.  It’s all of that.  Turning its head from the right edge of the masonite, to stare back at the viewer from fully half the picture, is a face embossed by tall, sharp scars of erratic texturing.  The little hairs on your neck will stand up.  You’ll shiver and vividly recall the last great horror flick you watched.  The Look will go right through you – and chill you.  It spooks you – even as you  can’t stop looking at it.  Bizarre as can be.  And terrific, really.
           Custer Buffalo, too, is a painting you have to see to appreciate fully.  In Wysocki’s other life he raises, butchers, and sells buffalo – i.e., bison.  The buffalo of this painting could’ve starred in The Chronicles of Narnia.  It looks as old, as wise, and as comfortable in its skin as Socrates, and can only be something Wysocki knows well and captured perfectly.
           Care to see a good, effective still life?  Maple Syrup.  Simple as can be, but you won’t be able to avoid hungrily imagining French toast, waffles, or pancakes slathered with the tasty goo from these jars.
           Most of his paintings at this exhibition, however, are landscapes.  Ordinary landscapes in extraordinary presentation.  I think that’s probably what makes this guy special.  He’s spare, uncluttered, geometric.  He’s deliberate and disciplined.  He paints unsentimentally, but you get nostalgic anyway.  He captures and imparts the desertion of the American countryside and hinterlands.  He reconnects us to Americana, to small-town and rural landscapes and artifacts, to the declining small-town and rural America from which the population and wealth continue to spill.  But he makes us see, with a touch of bittersweetness – and certainly an apparent love on his behalf – what we still have and what we cling to.  What our ancestors had and built and left to us.  What we take for granted, are jaded by, every day.  He paints convincingly what was, what is, what might be, the spirit of these things, the ghosts, and how we daily relate to all of this.
           Koski’s Bar.  The old Goodman Bank.  Clunkers in a junkyard like dinosaurs in a museum.  A couple of abandoned fire trucks, a Ford and a Howe, redder than the day they were new and sparking memories of bygone parades.  The Goodman railroad station, a classic, and Old #7 pulling into it under a long cloud of steam.  A beautifully restored old gas station, but no sign in the tall oval signpost – Standard?  Mobil?  Sinclair?  Texaco?  Just a bull’s-eye of cloudy blue sky nowadays.  Meadows, haying, approaching storms, birch woods, an ancient tractor and haywagon – in immaculate condition and still in use!  I think the guy’s crazy about this stuff.  And good for him!  I also think that because of his affection for what he paints, Wysocki justifiably assumes a healthy dose of license for his style, and as a result is a pictorial poet.  In his simplicity and unpretentiousness is good storytelling and great eloquence.
           Is he great?  Nah.  Is he mediocre?  To my taste, yeah, some of his stuff is only so-so.  I’m not crazy about his fish, which I more happily imagine gutted, cleaned, breaded lightly, and sizzling in hot butter.  Is he lousy?  No way.  Steve Wysocki is a very, very good artist.  Some of his work is adventurous and plainly excellent.  He’s clearly an emerging artist, still young and maybe a bit too careful, a bit too inhibited, but with a great deal of promise and potential.  I’m anxious to see what comes next, if and how he proceeds and matures as a painter.  His paintings are music to the eye, and generally an arresting tune.  His work provokes thought and it evokes emotion – always two good standards by which to judge an artist.
           The general public may not give two hoots about this guy and his paintings.  But it wouldn’t hurt to peek, stare, gaze, and gawk at his stuff.  Go see a different and interesting approach, form an opinion.  And if you’re part of the area’s fine-arts community, whether another artist, a patron, an appreciator, or a collector, you should really go see this exhibition.  Steve Wysocki brings something a little special to his work.  Whether you like it or dislike it, it’ll challenge you, and it’s unlikely to leave you feeling indifferent.

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