Here's the article you were talking about, Prophetess:
http://www.sacticket.com/art_galleries/story/12550134p-13405315c.html
Wearing his trademark navy blazer and blue jeans, Thomas Kinkade, the creator of made-up worlds on canvas, takes a seat on a video set made up to look like an elegant living room. It's one of a couple of sets used for taping promos and QVC home shopping channel appearances in the sprawling Thomas Kinkade Co. headquarters in Morgan Hill.
The faux framework seems fitting for an interview with a master of romantic painting. It is a rare opportunity to meet one-on-one with the Sacramento native who has colored popular culture with his mass-produced art.
But what Kinkade has to say departs from his image. His art may present uniformly sticky-sweet visions, but he paints a different portrait in conversation.
As he speaks, it is clear that the 47-year-old painter sees himself as a fine-art rebel at war with elitism. He makes it sound downright radical to be the leading creator of easy-access art in the traditions of Walt Disney, Norman Rockwell and, believe it or not, Andy Warhol.
"My art is a populist form of art," he says. "The official art of our day - the art that our tax dollars pay for - is an art of darkness, it is an art of alienation from the public. ... What I create is very much a reaction to that system."
While many serious artists want to challenge viewers, Kinkade is happy to provide the visual equivalent of Muzak, with the strains of a hymn thrown in. (Much of his art has Christian themes.)
"My paintings become the background music. I call it comfort art," he says. "It's an art that brings reminders of foundational values - things like home, family, the beauty of nature, faith, the hope of the next generation."
On that cozy foundation, Kinkade has built an empire and become a superstar who meets with U.S. presidents as well as the pope. On the way, he has remade himself from an insecure kid in a trailer park in Placerville to the world's leading producer of pleasant images.
Whether you find his work schlocky or brilliant - and people seem to feel it's one or the other, never anything in between - you'll find lots and lots of it around. By his company's estimates, more than 10 million people own his work, which makes him the most widely collected artist anywhere, ever.
Serious art critics typically write him off as a shuffler of a limited deck of sentimental images - lighthouses, cottages and woodland chapels.
The effect is like too much icing on pastry, according to art consultant Beth Jones, co-owner with Lynda Jolley of Jay Jay Gallery in Sacramento.
"The pink is too pink and the blue is too blue; it's like rich cake that would make you not feel good," Jones says. "And no museum is ever going to have it in their collection."
Kinkade says Jones and her ilk just don't get it.
"When the critics attack me for utilizing common themes and visual devices, they simply need to understand it is part of my plan to create an art that can help shape a culture," he says. "This is art with an agenda - and that is to be a force for good in the culture in which we live and to be an antidote for the ugliness we see on the evening news." The first step on the agenda: infuse the world on canvas with light, sun breaking through clouds, cottage windows illuminated from within. It's a trademark for the self-appointed "Painter of Light," from the little lamppost lapel pin he wears to the greetings of those who answer the phone at his company by thanking all callers for "sharing the light."...
(cont.)
http://www.sacticket.com/art_galleries/story/12550134p-13405315c.html
Wearing his trademark navy blazer and blue jeans, Thomas Kinkade, the creator of made-up worlds on canvas, takes a seat on a video set made up to look like an elegant living room. It's one of a couple of sets used for taping promos and QVC home shopping channel appearances in the sprawling Thomas Kinkade Co. headquarters in Morgan Hill.
The faux framework seems fitting for an interview with a master of romantic painting. It is a rare opportunity to meet one-on-one with the Sacramento native who has colored popular culture with his mass-produced art.
But what Kinkade has to say departs from his image. His art may present uniformly sticky-sweet visions, but he paints a different portrait in conversation.
As he speaks, it is clear that the 47-year-old painter sees himself as a fine-art rebel at war with elitism. He makes it sound downright radical to be the leading creator of easy-access art in the traditions of Walt Disney, Norman Rockwell and, believe it or not, Andy Warhol.
"My art is a populist form of art," he says. "The official art of our day - the art that our tax dollars pay for - is an art of darkness, it is an art of alienation from the public. ... What I create is very much a reaction to that system."
While many serious artists want to challenge viewers, Kinkade is happy to provide the visual equivalent of Muzak, with the strains of a hymn thrown in. (Much of his art has Christian themes.)
"My paintings become the background music. I call it comfort art," he says. "It's an art that brings reminders of foundational values - things like home, family, the beauty of nature, faith, the hope of the next generation."
On that cozy foundation, Kinkade has built an empire and become a superstar who meets with U.S. presidents as well as the pope. On the way, he has remade himself from an insecure kid in a trailer park in Placerville to the world's leading producer of pleasant images.
Whether you find his work schlocky or brilliant - and people seem to feel it's one or the other, never anything in between - you'll find lots and lots of it around. By his company's estimates, more than 10 million people own his work, which makes him the most widely collected artist anywhere, ever.
Serious art critics typically write him off as a shuffler of a limited deck of sentimental images - lighthouses, cottages and woodland chapels.
The effect is like too much icing on pastry, according to art consultant Beth Jones, co-owner with Lynda Jolley of Jay Jay Gallery in Sacramento.
"The pink is too pink and the blue is too blue; it's like rich cake that would make you not feel good," Jones says. "And no museum is ever going to have it in their collection."
Kinkade says Jones and her ilk just don't get it.
"When the critics attack me for utilizing common themes and visual devices, they simply need to understand it is part of my plan to create an art that can help shape a culture," he says. "This is art with an agenda - and that is to be a force for good in the culture in which we live and to be an antidote for the ugliness we see on the evening news." The first step on the agenda: infuse the world on canvas with light, sun breaking through clouds, cottage windows illuminated from within. It's a trademark for the self-appointed "Painter of Light," from the little lamppost lapel pin he wears to the greetings of those who answer the phone at his company by thanking all callers for "sharing the light."...
(cont.)
