Paintings works on paper, objects, and sound
Dinner Bell, 2023, acrylic on board, 15 3/4 x 12 inches
Steven Dayvid McKellar: Nooit ge Dacht
Paintings, work on paper, objects, and sound
Curated by VC Projects
Exhibition dates: April 21 - May 27, 2023
CLOSING EVENT: Saturday, May 27th from 1 - 4 pm
El NIDO by VC Projects, 1028 N. Western Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90029
An exploration of small paintings works on paper, objects, and sound - a reimagined perspective on the nature of nostalgia
Nooit ge dacht is the name of the street Steven grew up on in Cape Town; it’s also a hamlet in Holland, and a breed of South African horse. The loose translation is “I never imagined.”
I like the contrast, between the name nooit ge dacht and the concept of the show cause all I did as a boy was imagine. And yet my life turns to physical mystery, every day, in a way I could NOT have imagined. That’s the great collaboration we’re all here to experience and learn from; our imaginations and the physical manifestations of them and every other chaos in life. And by participating in nostalgia we are flexing that power we bring our imaginations into the present, into every moment. Cause nostalgia lives outside of time and is susceptible to translation.
This is fascinating experiment. I thought to myself, what if I could view the present through that same sense of warmth and security, which is what I needed to feel in the mist of insane transition, my parents, my career and me.
Sandcastle in the Sun, 2023 acrylic on board, 16 x 15 inches
Steven is the son of Lisa McKellar and grandson of John Andrew Rice, who in 1933 became the founder, and rector of Black Mountain College, liberal arts school located in the Black Mountains of North Carolina. Rice was instrumental in creating an interdisciplinary approach to education by inviting leading visual artists, writers, composers, and dancers to be a part of its community. For example, Joseph and Anni Albers, Merce Cunningham, John Cage, Williem and Elaine De Kooning, Buckmaster Fuller, Ruth Asawa, Robert Rauschenberg, and Mary Caroline Richards, the list goes on and on.
Rice was quoted: There are subtle ways of communication that have been lost by mankind, as our nerve ends have been cauterized by schooling. These nerves must be re-sensitized. We must learn to move without fear, to be aware of everything around us, to FEEL as well as mentally see our way into the future.
Being brought up in an environment where John Andrew Rice is your grandfather, it would be safe to say, nothing in Steven’s life is ordinary. It is clear he has followed in the footsteps of Rice and that the artist is within, and by observing the world and its many facets, contemplating emotions and life’s circumstances is just as important to understanding line color and rhythm. Steven is very comfortable living in his skin and sincerely moves through space acknowledging every aspect.
In the words of John Andrew Rice … teach method, not content; to emphasize process, not results; to invite the student to the realization that the way of handling facts and himself amid the facts is more important than the facts themselves.
Opening Scene, 2023 acrylic on board, 14.5 x 16 inches
The works in the exhibition were made during the month of October 2022, while Steven was visiting his parents in Cape Town. It had been four years since his last visit. The soundscape which also part of the exhibition is comprised of: bird calls, sprinklers, people talking, tea being stirred, the gospel choir across the valley, wind, the local shopping mall, a replay of a 1998 cricket match on TV, and a variety of other sound that were symbolic of Steven’s upbringing.
My folks were preparing to move countries, getting the house ready to sell, the place that they’d live in for 40 years. It was the house I was born and raised in, that my dad designed and built and they were selling it with everything in it, spoons and all. My partner and I had been traveling for a few months after moving out of our apartment in Los Angeles and we had no idea where we were gonna be next. The same goes for my career and general purpose in life, which had gone cold and needed changing. There I was, about to turn 40, nothing solid to sink into but the present. And surrounded by childhood memory and objects from it. I began a re-evaluation of nostalgia. Dwelling in my past for the sake of ‘good feelings’ wasn’t gonna cut it. I wanted to be it in. And the only way to do that was to use the sensation of nostalgia as a lens through which I could view my present and even my future.
When I think back on things, even the hard things in my past, I am often greeted with a timeless warmth. The memories are willing and susceptible to reinterpretation and imagination, safely tucked away in some pocket of the soul. It’s already happened, and I take comfort in that. Maybe nostalgia is a gift from our souls, there to teach us how to view the ‘now’. I desperately wanted to feel the same warmth and awe about my present than I did about my past.
Early Morning Orange Peels, 2023 acrylic on board, 11 x 14 inches
And it was through this everyday practice that the pieces emerged. Very quickly actually. In a burst of light and strength and clarity. Self judgement was absent, and I felt limitless. But the irony of freedom and limitless is that it often reveals itself in seemingly small simplicity that we overlook in our frantic attempt to be ‘someone’. So, I spent my time walking through the house slowly, holding things I’d found, sitting in the garden listening to the birds, talking to my folks over tea, delicately sorting through childhood items that had been stored in boxes, attempting to make it all move in an organic way. I’d found some acrylic and oil paints lying in a tin in the shed, and my mother, in all her sorting through the house, had found some paint brushes that belonged to her mother, some drawing papers, and some pastels, that she’d placed on my bed for me to find when I came back from a walk one day. I’d also found some masonite boards in the shed, cut into squares and painted white. One of them had a paw print in the paint from the dogs we had when I was a kid and I realized that my dad must have cut and painted these around 30 years ago. So, with those materials, I set up shop and jumped in, doing works of little things that I’d found lying around the house.
It was my way of capturing the moment as best I could, as it is for so many painters. And living with the pieces as I moved through them, having them around the room, seemed to be the key that tied my past in with my present and shone a light into the future. Working on them and hanging out with them helped confirm that I’ve always been the same person, deep in my soul, with the same feeling of life in my gut. And I felt submission to that fact, and for the first time in my life, I was at peace with it.
Blue Clamp, 2023, acrylic on board, 15 x 13 3/4 inches
Pondering #2, 2023, acrylic on board, 16 x 14 1/2 inches
Steven McKellar is a musician, painter, and poet from Cape Town, South Africa. After a 20-year music career, touring globally with his band, Civil Twilight, Steven began releasing his first solo records and returned to his roots in painting. As a child, he was trained in realism by his aunt and renowned South African artist Donna McKellar before finding community and creative outlet through music and poetry.
In September 2022, Steven released ‘Nama,’ a textural and rhythmic exploration of his South African roots and identity. ‘Nama’ is a follow-up to two earlier musical releases, ‘Ethio’ and ‘Belleville Demos’— soon to be reissued.
After a debut solo show of his early paintings in Nashville, TN, Steven has been refining his process and deepening his relationship with the medium by exploring identity. Nooit Ge Dacht is his latest series of paintings, sketches, and pastels of everyday objects endowed with meaning on his journey of personal growth.
Load Shedding, 2023, acrylic on board, 15 x 15.5 inches
Atlantic, 2023, acrylic on board, 11 1/2 x 16 inches
(DETAIL) Broken Lock, 2023, acrylic on board (one of two parts)
Afternoon, 2023, oil, pastel, and charcoal on paper, 12 x 9 inches
Tears, 2023, charcoal, oil pastel on paper 9.5 x 7 inches
Materials for Building, 2023 oil pastel, charcoal on paper 12 x 9 inches
It’s Time to Leave Again, 2023 charcoal, pastel on paper, 5 3/4 x 8 inches
The Illusion of Nostalgia, 2023, charcoal on paper, rocks and chair
The Illusion of Nostalgia, 2023, charcoal on paper, (one of three parts)
Lemon Tree, 2023, assemblage with sketchbook +objects, paint W:14 “ x D: 6” x H: 15.5 inches
Steven with Lemon Tree
Man/Boy, 2023, oil paint, oil pastel, charcoal on paper 12 x 9 inches
Solitaire, 2023, table assemblage w/rocks, acrylic on wood, table: W: 48” x D:23.5”x H:8 drawer: W: 18” x D:2.5” x H: 15 inches
Steven laying next to Solitaire
Local Memory, 2023, oil paint on paper, 11 x 8.5 inches
Materials for Dreaming, 2023, oil pastel, charcoal on paper, and sketchbook 23 x 19 inches
DETAIL: Materials for Dreaming
Afternoon, 2023, oil pastel, charcoal on paper, 12 x 9 inches
End of Summer, 2023, oil pastel on paper, 11 x 6 inches
End of Summer #2, 2023, acrylic paint, object, 12 x 16 inches
Wine-Gums, 2023, oil pastel, ink pen, charcoal on paper, 12 x 9 inches
Kitchen Table Early Morning, 2023 charcoal, oil on paper, 9.5 x 7 inches
We Carry it in Us, 2023, charcoal on paper, 12 x 9 inches
TWO QUESTIONS PER WEEK WITH STEVEN
Week of May 3rd, 2023
VC Projects: How would you describe your process?
Are you inspired by things around you, or events? Are you seeking to document memories through your various creative mediums?
Steven: I usually start by getting excited about something new that I’ve discovered, that indicates depth and integrity. Could be as simple as a scene from a movie, a trip I went on, something someone said, a single image, painting or photo or whatever. And then I sit still with that and let the theme unfold. Sometimes this whole process happens very subconsciously and you just wake up one day and find that the last few creations you’ve made have a throbbing cohesion that you just have to explore.
Meditation is a huge part of it. Being still, I can gauge whether something deep has risen to the surface, some concept or theme that has been building within me.
I’m definitely influenced by my environment, but inadvertently. What my environment brings out in my general ‘putting together’ of the world.
VC Projects: Between visual art making and music, is there a difference between the way you might begin making an album over creating a body of visual works for an exhibition?
Steven: There is actually very little difference. But there are constantly things that I learn from the one that I wish to apply to the other. They both involve wonderful and intense self-examination for me. And I always learn something and come out of it richer and broader.
TWO MORE QUESTIONS - Week of May 8th, 2023
VC Projects: As a visual artist, what is the most important aspect you want to share with your audience?
Steven: hat I wish for people to experience is what I myself have received from the process of making and observation. Which is, constant re-evaluation of a personal perspective of things, that never really ends. Strengthening ones uniqueness, flexibility, changing angles and views within oneself.
If someone is drawn in to what I do visually, I would hope that in observing my work, they can feel the process, a transparent display of the search for oneself that is still happening in front of them, and within themselves (not just the so called visual outcome).
VC Projects: What does process mean to you? In regards to your art-making process, are you more excited about the process or the finished work?
Steven: I am excited about both, cause I’m starting to realize how they are part of the same practice. The observing happens during the physical making and continues long after something is, say, ‘finished’.
Things really started to shift for me when I began putting a lot of importance and emphasis on the observing and gathering phase. I start walking into the world very slowly, paying close attention to what my eyes intuitively notice (not what I’ve been conditioned to think I SHOULD be noticing as an ‘artist’), and quitening the voices of self judgement in my head, things start appearing everywhere, surprising me and mirroring who I am. Then I’m soft and flexible and ready to be fueled up, and often realize right then and there that I am already full.
April 21, 2023 - Opening reception
May 5, 2023 - Record Listening Party
May 8, 2023 - Still Life Painting with Roofless Painters and Steven
May 11, 2023 - Curatorial Talk with VC Projects and Steven
May 27, 2023 - Closing event from 1 - 4 pm
Weekly sharing of Two Questions per Week: VC Projects talks to Steven
VC Projects Podcast: “Conversations About Art”
Steven Dayvid McKellar: Nooit ge Dacht an exhibition of paintings, drawings, objects and sound.
In this episode, we speak to Steven Dayvid McKellar, a musician, painter, and poet from Cape Town, South Africa. After a 20-year music career, touring globally with his band, Civil Twilight, Steven began releasing his first solo records and returned to his roots in painting. As a child, he was trained in realism by his aunt and renowned South African artist Donna McKellar before finding community and creative outlet through music and poetry.
After a debut solo show of his early paintings in Nashville, TN, Steven has been refining his process and deepening his relationship with the medium by exploring identity. Nooit Ge Dacht is his latest series of paintings, sketches, and pastels of everyday objects endowed with meaning regarding his personal journey of growth. Steven Dayvid McKellar: Nooit ge Dacht is displayed at El NIDO by VC Projects from April 21 – May 27th, 2023.
This 60-minute talk is both sincere and intimate. We both meet on Zoom, myself in the exhibition space, contemplating Steven’s art and Steven's at his apartment in Highland Park. I ask questions about the how’s and why’s of his artwork, his solo music career, and his studio practice. I gently nudge Steven to voice his deepest memories relative to his sense of self. The talk touches on creation, observation, and Steven’s personal need to observe the world while recording his findings through the artmaking process, whether visual or sound art.
We also contemplate the ‘new era of art,’ venturing into self-awareness and liberation. Steven talks about how he prepares his mindscape, mentioning meditation and other structures that guide him. We both weigh our viewpoints and how art-making may evolve during this time of massive information. From my point of view, art is about feeling and documenting the world around you, sharing ideas, or asking questions. Steven talks about what art is for him. Towards the end, I ask Steven the traditional last question, “What would you tell your younger self? Steven’s answer is quite surprising, a hint, receiving, time passage, and entertaining comments about earthly success. Expect another podcast soon, as we had so much to talk about.
Steven Dayvid McKellar: Nooit ge Dacht, an exhibition of paintings, drawings, objects, and sound, on view at El Nido by VC Projects, Los Angeles, April 21 – May 27, 2023