Feature in the Flagstaff Live
Monsters and magic
The mythical artwork of Mychael Lee
By Stephanie Flood
Published on 05/29/2008
In a place of make-believe where magic is said to exist, ghosts are real in the light of day. Eden can still be found by those who seek it and conspiracies run wild with imagination. The naked body is a sacred shrine of this world, and the mind holds the key to all of its wonders.
There is a way to experience this enigmatic place without having to dream. It’s found in an underground gallery called Mythos owned by local artist Mychael Lee. All one has to do is open the door, and follow the stairs down to the basement. Rumor has it that it’s even haunted.
“There’s a little Chinese girl that lives in here,” Lee says. “There are ghosts in this building. The woman next door says that there are ghosts everywhere.”
Besides ghosts, paintings that weren’t meant for a normal gallery hang like portals to a different world—a world expounding with intense erotica, past lives and goddesses. Lee has searched for a place that could harbor these unique paintings, since most galleries simply wouldn’t take them.
"I’ve had so much difficulty trying to find places that would show my work,” Lee says. “Now that I have my gallery, I can put warnings up like ‘not suitable for children,’ and children don’t have to come in. Or, ‘if you’re overly religious, you won’t enjoy the show,’ so they can avoid the place.”
Lee has been creating fantasy art for years, painting imaginative creatures like fairies, dragons, mermaids and elves.But after a while, his tastes changed to bolder compositions.
“I’d do fantasy for a couple of years, and then I’ll put that aside,” Lee says. “Then I’ll explore my erotic nature. Figures, nearly abstract things that you can’t tell what it is until you take a step back and go, ‘oh wow, that’s two people getting it on’ or something.”
One painting in his gallery symbolizing the peak of his erotica is a huge painting of “St. Coitus” in the form of an angel. It’s a dramatic representation saturated with ferocious reds and beaming oranges. The divine being has outstretched arms underneath, what appears to be, outstretched wings. His head is profuse with existential flames, as bold black lines outline these shapes to resemble stained glass.
But after taking a step back, first appearances can be deceiving. Here’s a hint:
“If you take a step back,” Lee says, “you can see that it’s a point of view of people having sex. That’s the c*ck. The cl*t’s on fire. Those are breasts.”
“Oh my God,” is a typical response that people utter after realizing they’ve been staring at this piece for a while without realizing what they were actually looking at. But despite the painting’s jarring honesty, the image is still beautiful because Lee understands and expresses the sacredness of sexuality.
“Everything about life is holy,” Lee says. “If you think otherwise, then all you’re doing is creating a hell for yourself. Everything in life is holy, even the monsters in our heads.”
These monsters have captivated Lee since the days of high school when he first began exploring the dark and sometimes treacherous realms of his peers’ psyche.
"In high school, I was fascinated with monsters,” Lee says. “I was experiencing all the monsters: people, kids, post-pubescent kids. People are monsters. So everything I drew was zombies, things with long teeth, people getting ripped apart, that kind of s**t.”
The institutionalized ways of learning in high school weren’t Lee’s cup of tea. But to counter his teenage angst, he would take the art supplies he needed and draw what he really wanted to draw. He’d also people-watch, which gave him insight to what he does now in trying to push people to stop hiding the fears they bury inside layers of illusionary facades.
"I’d sit and watch crowds of people, and all the atrocities going on,” Lee says. “Everyone’s a victim of it and nobody’s acknowledging it openly. Everyone’s got the same fear in their eyes, and nobody’s talking about it. Nobody’s doing anything about it. They’re just sitting there. Sitting and stewing in it.”
Since high school, Lee has moved to a variety of places, with his surroundings intuitively reflecting the look and feel of his paintings.
“I haven’t lived in a place longer than two years,” Lee says. “Everywhere I’ve lived, everyone seems to think that I’m a different kind of artist. But my cycles just happen to match the length of time I’ve lived in places. It also reflects where I’m living.”
When Lee lived in Oregon, a place that is dense and moist, his artwork was all mushrooms and magical creatures. But since moving to the high, arid desert, his artwork’s been conspiratorial, marking a phase that offers more diversity in his creations.
“I guess I’m fed up with people assuming that I’m one way,” Lee says, “instead of all the many ways I am over the years. And I’m also fed up with people not really knowing what’s going on around them because they’re so hooked on what’s going down here in their own personal point of view.”
In addition to his highly evocative pieces that will be sure to ruffle some feathers, Lee is also working on a show for August—an assault on the environment show. To make this happen, he’s inviting an enclave of artists that will match his themes. The possibilities of what might be found in his gallery are as infinite as the imagination.
“Opening this space up—starting with my friends and then branching out,” Lee says, “it’s allowing me to do whatever crosses my mind.”
The Mythos Art Studio and Gallery is located at 13 N. San Francisco, #12. In addition to his own pieces, Lee will be showing the work of several local photographers for the First Friday Art Walk in June. For more information, call 226-0378 or visit www.myspace.com/hoofandhorn.
The mythical artwork of Mychael Lee
By Stephanie Flood
Published on 05/29/2008
In a place of make-believe where magic is said to exist, ghosts are real in the light of day. Eden can still be found by those who seek it and conspiracies run wild with imagination. The naked body is a sacred shrine of this world, and the mind holds the key to all of its wonders.
There is a way to experience this enigmatic place without having to dream. It’s found in an underground gallery called Mythos owned by local artist Mychael Lee. All one has to do is open the door, and follow the stairs down to the basement. Rumor has it that it’s even haunted.
“There’s a little Chinese girl that lives in here,” Lee says. “There are ghosts in this building. The woman next door says that there are ghosts everywhere.”
Besides ghosts, paintings that weren’t meant for a normal gallery hang like portals to a different world—a world expounding with intense erotica, past lives and goddesses. Lee has searched for a place that could harbor these unique paintings, since most galleries simply wouldn’t take them.
"I’ve had so much difficulty trying to find places that would show my work,” Lee says. “Now that I have my gallery, I can put warnings up like ‘not suitable for children,’ and children don’t have to come in. Or, ‘if you’re overly religious, you won’t enjoy the show,’ so they can avoid the place.”
Lee has been creating fantasy art for years, painting imaginative creatures like fairies, dragons, mermaids and elves.But after a while, his tastes changed to bolder compositions.
“I’d do fantasy for a couple of years, and then I’ll put that aside,” Lee says. “Then I’ll explore my erotic nature. Figures, nearly abstract things that you can’t tell what it is until you take a step back and go, ‘oh wow, that’s two people getting it on’ or something.”
One painting in his gallery symbolizing the peak of his erotica is a huge painting of “St. Coitus” in the form of an angel. It’s a dramatic representation saturated with ferocious reds and beaming oranges. The divine being has outstretched arms underneath, what appears to be, outstretched wings. His head is profuse with existential flames, as bold black lines outline these shapes to resemble stained glass.
But after taking a step back, first appearances can be deceiving. Here’s a hint:
“If you take a step back,” Lee says, “you can see that it’s a point of view of people having sex. That’s the c*ck. The cl*t’s on fire. Those are breasts.”
“Oh my God,” is a typical response that people utter after realizing they’ve been staring at this piece for a while without realizing what they were actually looking at. But despite the painting’s jarring honesty, the image is still beautiful because Lee understands and expresses the sacredness of sexuality.
“Everything about life is holy,” Lee says. “If you think otherwise, then all you’re doing is creating a hell for yourself. Everything in life is holy, even the monsters in our heads.”
These monsters have captivated Lee since the days of high school when he first began exploring the dark and sometimes treacherous realms of his peers’ psyche.
"In high school, I was fascinated with monsters,” Lee says. “I was experiencing all the monsters: people, kids, post-pubescent kids. People are monsters. So everything I drew was zombies, things with long teeth, people getting ripped apart, that kind of s**t.”
The institutionalized ways of learning in high school weren’t Lee’s cup of tea. But to counter his teenage angst, he would take the art supplies he needed and draw what he really wanted to draw. He’d also people-watch, which gave him insight to what he does now in trying to push people to stop hiding the fears they bury inside layers of illusionary facades.
"I’d sit and watch crowds of people, and all the atrocities going on,” Lee says. “Everyone’s a victim of it and nobody’s acknowledging it openly. Everyone’s got the same fear in their eyes, and nobody’s talking about it. Nobody’s doing anything about it. They’re just sitting there. Sitting and stewing in it.”
Since high school, Lee has moved to a variety of places, with his surroundings intuitively reflecting the look and feel of his paintings.
“I haven’t lived in a place longer than two years,” Lee says. “Everywhere I’ve lived, everyone seems to think that I’m a different kind of artist. But my cycles just happen to match the length of time I’ve lived in places. It also reflects where I’m living.”
When Lee lived in Oregon, a place that is dense and moist, his artwork was all mushrooms and magical creatures. But since moving to the high, arid desert, his artwork’s been conspiratorial, marking a phase that offers more diversity in his creations.
“I guess I’m fed up with people assuming that I’m one way,” Lee says, “instead of all the many ways I am over the years. And I’m also fed up with people not really knowing what’s going on around them because they’re so hooked on what’s going down here in their own personal point of view.”
In addition to his highly evocative pieces that will be sure to ruffle some feathers, Lee is also working on a show for August—an assault on the environment show. To make this happen, he’s inviting an enclave of artists that will match his themes. The possibilities of what might be found in his gallery are as infinite as the imagination.
“Opening this space up—starting with my friends and then branching out,” Lee says, “it’s allowing me to do whatever crosses my mind.”
The Mythos Art Studio and Gallery is located at 13 N. San Francisco, #12. In addition to his own pieces, Lee will be showing the work of several local photographers for the First Friday Art Walk in June. For more information, call 226-0378 or visit www.myspace.com/hoofandhorn.