Creativity as a form of 'self' revolution: Lewis Anderson
Astral Spring (Peripheral Visions)
After discovering his website, I contacted Lewis and asked if he would be interested in having his work featured in our online magazine, and possibly dedicated an issue of our print magazine, Out Of Bounds, to him. I'm proposing two of his projects here and giving you the chance to explore all of his works.
Lewis describes his art as a blend of photography and painting, Eastern and Western influences, and contemporary and ancient styles. The images beckon viewers to contemplate quiet moments in diverse landscapes, filled with light, shadow, and symbolism.
Peripheral Visions
My first job as an artist is to communicate with myself. A conversation is not very interesting if you already know what is going to be said. So self-discovery is a process, a goal, and a statement. If you want better images, get closer to the subject. The deeper one goes, the more connected you are with yourself and the more potential for others to resonate.
Sometimes, unconscious truth stands up and questions, begs, or even smiles at us and hits that undercurrent in all viewers that reveals something within themselves. When star gazing, sometimes it is best to look a little to the side of the object in order for it to be clearer. Truth is not black and white and neither is it 256 shades of gray but can be hinted at with non-linguistic metaphors. Poetry uses words the same way a good image uses shapes, textures and light. Music uses sounds to make something meaningful way beyond the vibration of a string, vocal cord or drum beat. In visual language, the harmonic insights come from a connection that is hard to define but felt when seen.
Everything is an equivalent. Hopefully, purity of heart and high-mindedness make for a good starting point for the conversation.
It's only when you stop feeling separate from things and beings that you begin perceiving what is happening. Seeing situations instead of mere objects.
The decisive moment is nothing else than a Zen moment.
Tree Talk
These images are a cry and a prayer to connect, to see, to hear, to understand, to appreciate, to resonate with, to be one with, to inhale the beauty, power and majesty of the simple tree. I strive to see the unseen, hear the silence, understand the incomprehensible, appreciate the presences and the present.
The metaphors of trees speak to me with half their bodies buried and unseen seeking water and the other seen half in the sky seeking light. As a human being I acknowledge that my perception of all that surrounds me is at best only a small fraction of reality. I seek to learn the trees’ lesson of humility expressed by their massive strength which so easily bends in even a soft wind. They are my bridge from earth to heaven.
I find upliftment in seeking, experiencing and interpreting the hidden essence of consciousness imminent in all of nature. In this endeavor, trees as a photographic subject are gifts like the humble offering of their low hanging fruit.
Lewis was born in the 1950s in a small Arkansas town. His father was a nuclear engineer and his mother was an oil painter. He could write an entire book on "this dichotomy that permeated my childhood." He fondly recalls, "My mother taught me to see the light." Lewis's parents instilled both creativity and logic in his upbringing, resulting in a balanced mindset. As a child, Lewis spent weeks creating wooden sculptures and carvings, and his first piece was a figurine of Joan of Arc. Even at a young age, he pondered impermanence and wondered if art existed simply in creation and not just in a final result. These experiences planted the seeds for a profound love of nature, leading to an active role in conservation. After a life-threatening injury at age ten, Lewis sought a more profound understanding beyond his family's traditions. He embarked on world tours and intense meditation retreats in India, and now incorporates daily meditation into his life as he pursues his spiritual journey as an artist.
When Lewis was sixteen, he ran away from home and spent the summer working with a wheat harvest crew in the Midwest. This experience introduced him to different people and places. In the 1960s, he stood out in Arkansas with his ponytail and radical ideas. Wanting to escape, he transferred to the San Francisco Art Institute to study sculpture. While at the San Francisco Art Institute, Lewis created bronze castings and wooden creations, which he hid in the woods, hoping they would be discovered in the future. Immersed in the revolutionary world of San Francisco in the sixties and seventies, he rode his motorcycle through the city, Haight-Ashbury, and along the Pacific Coastline. His uncategorizable art often perplexed his professors.
Lewis left San Francisco and lived in a teepee in the Northern California woods, deepening his appreciation of nature. He later settled in a small town in New Hampshire, where he focused on woodworking, spirituality, and travel for many years.
While at the National Palace Museum in Taiwan, Lewis realized that his artistic style and interests were connected to the Ming Dynasty exhibits. He found a deep connection to the art forms and styles he resonated with since childhood, leading to a profound realization. Lewis's Dynasty collection is influenced by the Chinese landscape and a sense of oneness. The pieces use a long ratio, often with multiple panels and incorporate a strong use of empty space. Lewis takes photographs in nature and digitally paints them for weeks. The images are then printed on paper, mounted on aluminium, and varnished using a special technique. Finally, Lewis uses a unique edging technique of his own design to finish the pieces. The ancient Chinese landscapes thousands of years ago were created by holy men and hermits. They were poets who sought enlightenment, a fact that Lewis finds fascinating and relatable.
Lewis draws also inspiration from the Hudson River Illuminist painters of the mid-nineteenth century. He believes art should be beautiful and began focusing on photography fifteen years ago. Trained in printing and honoured with many awards, he finds fulfilment in evoking emotional responses through his art.
Lewis and his wife, Mary, have lived in Oregon for almost thirty years, finding inspiration in the Pacific Northwest's natural beauty.
An ancient river winds through tall, foreign mountains, filled with soft, golden light and blue fog. In "Boatman," a single silhouetted figure in a small boat seems to be rowing slowly into the unknown. This timeless image exudes peace, solitude, and mystery.
