Written by Elizabeth Parsons
Despite his lanky, 6’3” frame and arrow-straight posture, Brian Tydings is the kind of guy who you might not notice at a dinner party—at first. Hands resting politely in his lap, he speaks with soft deliberation, words faltering at times, eyes tracing the room, as if the missing name or adjective might be tacked somewhere on the wall above him.
If you give him a chance, though, Tydings becomes a character you’re unlikely to forget. At only 29, he is an artist full of passion and dogged dedication, tempered with the wisdom of an ancient soul. Despite lacking a formal degree, Tydings easily verbalizes the complexities of his work and would be comfortable debating any intellectual on the finer points of art history. Exuding a quiet confidence that at first might be mistaken for its antithesis, Tydings seems to embody a unique balance: that of the artist’s untethered creativity with the philosopher’s analytical perspective.
From August 29 through September 23, Tydings will display his work in a solo show at McGraw Fine Art Gallery in downtown Roanoke. His latest series departs from his usual abstract, colorful jumbles that seek to “represent emotion, the unconscious and contemporary experience,” and are more accessible, concrete. When I ask him about the subject, his eyes flicker toward the ceiling for a moment and he exhales, “flowers”—not the answer one would expect from a self-described rebel. But Tydings’ definition of rebellion is subversive in itself. “I think people expect artists to work against the grain, usually the conservative element in society. But I don’t want to be limited to that. I want to question everything—or it becomes boring, predictable. I’m rebelling against the idea of rebellion,” he smiles.
Tydings grew up in Boulder, Colorado, where he spent his youth as an avid athlete. It wasn’t until age twenty that he took up painting seriously, when he moved to Houston and enrolled in art classes at the Glassell School of Art. On a trip to Paris is when it all “clicked,” however, like the gears of a clock grinding slowly into place: in the Musee de l’Orangerie, Tydings happened upon Monet’s personal, oval-shaped wood palette in a glass case, and it moved him profoundly. “I saw the palette as the painting…I mix and create my colors on the canvas as if it were my palette.” This was the genesis of his fascination with color’s power, a concept readily apparent in his work’s bold, striking combinations.
Although art has taken its space as his primary passion, the artist retains a love of sports, seeing the two pursuits as complimentary. They both have sets of rules, he observes, and like the edges of a canvas, “it’s interesting what you can do within them, responding to this challenge.”
So which is it? Rebelling against everything or “coloring within the lines,” playing by the rules? Tydings does not believe these concepts are at odds: each presents a set of problems that push him to be a better, more profound artist. With a wife in grad school and a daughter to support, “I struggle between paintings I believe in and paintings that are marketable”—the more “internal” nature of his abstract work versus the more “concrete” of the flower series. “But I’m thankful for this,” he explains—it’s all part of finding his voice as an artist.
And besides, Tydings has the maturity to see that accessibility does not equal “selling out.” “I’m happy when people ‘get’ my work. I believe my use of color breaks down walls; I want people to appreciate the beauty of all those colors together. I’m very interested in this social aspect of my work.”
Having lived in Boulder, Houston and San Francisco, relocating to Southwest Virginia is a welcome change. There’s “less hysteria” here, Tydings claims, allowing him the breathing room to develop. “The stakes are higher in big cities—you can’t afford to make mistakes, and it’s essential that an artist is allowed to do so. Otherwise you stop taking risks,”—the essence of growth—“and the work becomes dull.”
With such expressive, emotional work and bold combinations of color, there seems little danger of “dull” for Tydings. And no matter where he is, the artist manages to keep things in perspective. “This is a time of transition for me; I’m still growing as an artist. People underestimate how long it takes to become competent…They look at Picasso, and think wow! But he started painting at the age of one,” cycling through many phases before reaching his creative apex.
Tydings believes his all-consuming dedication gives him an edge. Perhaps perseverance is a family trait: on his mother’s side, the artist is a direct descendant of Eli Whitney, inventor of the Cotton Gin; his uncle is also a successful inventor. Creative energy runs through the artist’s veins—literally.
Does Tydings aspire to the greatness his ancestor achieved? To become, like Picasso, one of the top painters in the world? “Yes—absolutely,” he responds without pause, his eyes now steady, confident. “The only things that matter to me are my work, and making sure my family is safe.”
Impossible Beauty, Bryan Tydings’ solo show, runs from August 29 through September 23 at McGraw Fine Art Gallery in downtown Roanoke, located at 21 Franklin Road across the street from the Shenandoah Club. On September 2 from 6 to 9 pm, join the artist for an opening reception; he will be present to answer questions and speak about his work. For more information on the gallery, visit www.mcgrawfineart.com; Bryan Tydings’ website is www.tydings.info.
