Colton Brock 
E-Mail
480-650-4532
Upon entering the older parts of the city, one notices subtle changes, not only in environment, but also in mood. The old city contrasts with the encroaching newness of mass-produced lifestyles. One can sense the atmosphere and personality of the people and structures sheering against impending progress. In this place character and quality have broad foundations, the type of which cause old men to say such cliche's as, gee they don't build em' like that anymore! In this place the roots of the past run deep and the smell of history seeps from every pore of the urine stained marble and every minute crack in the decrepit, newsprint riddled concrete sidewalks. In this place humanity can still be found to be connected under a shadowy drapery of telephone and electric wires.
Everyday I drive from where I live in the older city to newer parts of the town and back, constantly being confronted by the polarity in the types of businesses, ethnic diversities, languages and standards of living. When moving from the old to the new one experiences a noticeable loss in...lets just call it flavor. While the new outskirt developments are clean, predictable, wealthy and fashionable; they are at the same time, many other things. Monotonous, tedious, tiresome, at times mind numbing; and in my opinion, depressing. At the same time, while what areas many faux-Phoenicians would affectionately suggest as being a ghetto are dusty, grimy, ridden with crime, drugs, and, god forbid, non-English speakers; these areas are time tested, mature communities, which have paid their social dues to both the city at large and the local population. The faint aroma of food cooking at sunset, the far off noise of car horns and mariachi, and the view of our small downtown skyline over the trees culminates in an atmosphere that cannot be duplicated with fake, sterile desert landscaping.
While each city I visit and explore encompass their own unique characteristics regarding physical and aesthetic attributes; the more one travels, the more one notices just how similar they, in fact, are. That is really what these cities (small and large, alike) are- locations containing slightly varying sights, smells, colors, temperatures and atmospheres, which cannot be truly conveyed in a more generic landscape depiction. One must decipher how to truly convey the message or meaning of the landscape. This can be done by drawing from personal memories and emotions, and subsequently conveying those ideas through color, composition, subject matter, and so forth. The process is always subjective, even if your finished product is striving for an objective appearance. This also ties in a lot to working from drawings and photographs, as opposed to the real thing (which would not be possible in many circumstances). The photograph is useful in assisting my memory in the technical aspects of these jumbled metropolitan messes, and as the great illustrator Robert Crumb once said of these wire and light filled Closter phobic spaces, “You can’t make this stuff up.’ The ultimate goal for me in making a landscape piece is to connect with viewer through his or her own memories, and through these memories forge a meaningful relationship.
Everyday I drive from where I live in the older city to newer parts of the town and back, constantly being confronted by the polarity in the types of businesses, ethnic diversities, languages and standards of living. When moving from the old to the new one experiences a noticeable loss in...lets just call it flavor. While the new outskirt developments are clean, predictable, wealthy and fashionable; they are at the same time, many other things. Monotonous, tedious, tiresome, at times mind numbing; and in my opinion, depressing. At the same time, while what areas many faux-Phoenicians would affectionately suggest as being a ghetto are dusty, grimy, ridden with crime, drugs, and, god forbid, non-English speakers; these areas are time tested, mature communities, which have paid their social dues to both the city at large and the local population. The faint aroma of food cooking at sunset, the far off noise of car horns and mariachi, and the view of our small downtown skyline over the trees culminates in an atmosphere that cannot be duplicated with fake, sterile desert landscaping.
While each city I visit and explore encompass their own unique characteristics regarding physical and aesthetic attributes; the more one travels, the more one notices just how similar they, in fact, are. That is really what these cities (small and large, alike) are- locations containing slightly varying sights, smells, colors, temperatures and atmospheres, which cannot be truly conveyed in a more generic landscape depiction. One must decipher how to truly convey the message or meaning of the landscape. This can be done by drawing from personal memories and emotions, and subsequently conveying those ideas through color, composition, subject matter, and so forth. The process is always subjective, even if your finished product is striving for an objective appearance. This also ties in a lot to working from drawings and photographs, as opposed to the real thing (which would not be possible in many circumstances). The photograph is useful in assisting my memory in the technical aspects of these jumbled metropolitan messes, and as the great illustrator Robert Crumb once said of these wire and light filled Closter phobic spaces, “You can’t make this stuff up.’ The ultimate goal for me in making a landscape piece is to connect with viewer through his or her own memories, and through these memories forge a meaningful relationship.
Colton Brock's Galleries
I am Colton James Brock and I am a third generation Arizona Native. Both of my parents are natives and my father's father was born in Clifton, Arizona in 1923. I feel most at home in the desert; the heat, mountainous topography, plant life and fiery skies all contribute to the mood of my works. Growing up skateboarding in Phoenix has naturally lead to an affinity for unnatural landscapes, my paintings often simply being an extension of that attraction, which constantly lures me out into various urban centers.
With seventy-five percent of this city being less than thirty years old, one notices a stark contrast to say, an old colonial city in the east. Driving through miles of nauseating housing developments it appears as if Phoenix has no history at all; however this is not true. There is a very rich and culturally diverse history in this city, but like the underground, one has to know where to look. And before all that, you have to actually care. You gotta want it.
So now I live in one of the oldest parts of the city in a house that is as old as my grandparents and spend a lot of time roaming with a camera and a pocket full of one-dollar bills. Although, sadly, there are hints of gentrification, much of the city still retains its distinct flavor and provenance. Not only do I have pride in my home and an urge to respect and rep it, I let its history teach me. So these screen prints will be done from what I know- photographs, memories, feelings-just everyday things so condescendingly overlooked by newness.
Now I drive through other places- cities and towns and record my visual experiences. There is an old saying that I often think of when visiting a new location, which is "the more things change, the more they stay the same." I tyr to stay away from that type of mind set, however often refer back to it unavoidably.
I currently live and paint in uptown Phoenix and can be seen frequently painting Monday nights at Hidden House, as well as Soulstice Saturdays at Bar Smith, both in Phoenix. To see my portfolio and images from past events check out www.artish.org and search "colton brock".