Santa Fe painter Mark Spencer has a subdued demeanor. His manner of speech and his occasional gestures are gentle and deliberate. In an interview with the artist at his studio, located in a business complex off Pacheco Street, Spencer was casual yet serious discussing his work as well as himself. So, when he was asked how he might categorize his work, it came as a bit of a surprise that he chuckled and said, "I'm my own ism."

Spencer's paintings exhibit both drama and narrative within enigmatic scenes — with and without the human figure. But manifested in his images are familiar feelings of need, desperation, peril, fear, love, yearning, loneliness, comfort, and transformation. His work challenges the viewer to determine a story line.

Arrival (2008) is a good example. Seated on a rocky shoreline in a desolate place is a group of young people — two men and one woman — with a swaddled baby. They appear to be waiting patiently for something or someone. Are they refugees? Although a blue sky serves as a backdrop for the figures, their hair is being whipped by a strong wind, which is also evidenced by whitecaps on the water. That, in itself, has an unsettling
effect. But the most peculiar components in Spencer's painting are a white monkey sitting
on the ground in front of the figures and two golden arcs that, from above and below, surround the figures. Guardian angels, perhaps?

Another piece, Redondo (2006), adds tragedy to the mix. On a body of water, a man and a woman are situated atop a gold disk, which is positioned on a large wooden plank floating on or projecting just above the surface of the water. From beneath the disk extends a gigantic coiled rope that slips below the waves. Dangling above, from an unseen source to the left of the composition, are a few smaller ropes or cables that may be lifelines thrown to the figures, who appear to be stranded as a result of a horrendous incident at sea. A brilliant red covers the upper right corner of the painting, alluding to fire and adding to a sense of emergency.

But the most disturbing aspect of Spencer's image are the figures. Painted in monochrome, the man is lying down, immobilized by debris that envelops three-quarters of his body — or is his body composed of debris? The woman kneeling next to him is seemingly tearing away at that which covers or is part of him. And sitting unattended to the right of the woman is a small figure — a swaddled infant? A tiny warrior? An apparition? — that casually watches events unfold. It's a charged and strange image.

This and other paintings by Spencer are featured in Drawn and Tempered, an exhibition of more than 20 pieces opening at Sk¯otia Gallery on Friday, Oct. 16. The title of the exhibit came from pairing the titles of two paintings, explained Spencer. "It was that, or call it Drawn and Quartered," he said. "But I'm a drawer, and drawing is at the heart and soul of what I do."

And what, at first, may appear to be charcoal or conté drawings done in black and white,
like Dome (2008) and Bend (2009), are actually oil studies by Spencer from his Whirlwind series. "The Whirlwind pieces refer to how I feel about the world," said Spencer.

In describing his work method, Spencer holds up his hands and forms a small rectangle, similar to a film director creating a rough frame from which to compose a scene. "I start out with a thumbnail sketch — sometimes just two inches in size — where I find a design and a certain energy. My work starts out abstract from that design, using positive and negative space, but then I allow the more narrative elements to take shape, like figures and recognizable objects. I occasionally pre-visualize my imagery, but it primarily comes from hard unrelenting toil," he said.

Spencer also acknowledged that bigger is not necessarily better. "The transition from a small 5-by-7-inch sketch to a large canvas is very challenging. It's a technical problem and a problem of translation. I find that a less articulated concept is better seen small, whereas blown up, it sometimes doesn't work." It is, indeed, interesting to compare Spencer's small-scale, more abstract pieces with his larger work, which lends itself to narrative due to greater detail and more information. "But I don't see myself as a realist painter," he said.

"Emergence and couples are themes of mine," said the artist. "I like to portray the dynamics of relationships and how cyclically we're all emerging to another level — hopefully for the better. But in general, my work symbolizes larger issues; it's about our human nature and how we're dealing in the world, the barriers we encounter in our personal and collective evolutions. I'm not trying to stupefy anyone by my paintings; it's just where my head's at."

Originally from Quincy, Massachusetts, outside Boston, Spencer began his evolution as an artist when he won a drawing contest as a child. "When I was 10 years old, I entered a contest sponsored by The Boston Globe. Someone on the newspaper drew an isolated line, and you had to expand upon it to make a picture. I think this was a monthly contest for kids. I drew two tyrannosaurus rexes fighting and won 10 bucks! It was a pretty big deal for me. But what's funny is that that's how my art works now. I begin with a line or a mark that takes me somewhere." Spencer was encouraged by his parents to be creative and may have unconsciously been directed toward an artistic career by his mother, who was a painter and fashion illustrator. "I can't remember not knowing that I would be an artist," he said.

Spencer graduated from the School of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston and came to Santa Fe in 1976. "But," he said, "I moved away 'forever' four times. The first time was in 1981. I saw Santa Fe as a great place to retire to, but it didn't have much going for it in terms of developing a career, or so I thought. Twice I went to New York to do something and achieved moderate success. It's a great place to work, but I was never involved in the ism of the day. So I came back. I had great friends here, and Santa Fe has always been a place where artists can live with the delusion that the world gives a crap about art. But I also felt connected to the community, and the community is really connected to the world."

Despite Spencer's comings and goings, he was part of a core group of young artists who helped define the contemporary scene in Northern New Mexico. As he recalls, that included Carlos Carulo, Gene Newman, Eli Levin, Sam Scott, Bob Haozous, Woody Gwyn, Fritz Scholder, Douglas Johnson, and muralist Zara Kriegstein, all of whom hung out at Hand Graphics, a gallery and studio run by Ron Adams on Montezuma Avenue. "Hand Graphics was a gathering place for artists back then. It's where we all met and got to know each other," said Spencer.

Today, Spencer sees his adopted hometown as still connected to places beyond its borders. "Santa Fe relates exactly to the art scene around the world." he said. "It's everything and nothing. Artists everywhere in the contemporary world are like little islands. Ever since Pollock nuked the traditional Western aesthetic of its values, we've just followed our own paths."

Details
Mark Spencer: Drawn and Tempered
Reception 5:30-7:30 p.m. Friday, Oct. 16; exhibit through Oct. 30
Skotia Galley, 150 W. Marcy St., Suite 103, 820-7787