Above: Collage of Gary Baseman and his art. Photo of Gary © Michael Carroll

f you’ve spent any time in recent years browsing periodicals, watching TV, playing board games, movie-going, or following the fine art scene, there is a distinct chance that you’ve crossed into another world — that of artist Gary Baseman. “Baseman’s World” is all around you. And if it hasn’t touched you yet, it’s headed soon to a newstand-theater-gallery-channel-billboard-boutique-toy store near you!

Mike: What would you care to share about yourself to the few reclusive individuals unfamiliar with your work?

Gary: What I do now would have many titles. Nowadays I’m a painter, a TV and movie producer, a toy designer, a humorist, and an illustrator. I come from a background as an illustrator where I did work for major magazines for about a dozen years. Then I got involved in television by creating an animated series called Teacher’s Pet, and have been fortunate enough to win three Emmys for that ongoing project. The feature film (by the same name) came out this year. I’m also serious about my gallery work, and have had shows in New York, L.A., Philly, Minneapolis, and Seattle. Also, I’m into the art toy world — creating little art toy sculptures.

M: That’s a pretty wide range of projects. How do they fit under one roof?

G: Collectively, I see these various projects as examples of this growing art movement. I’ve titled it “pervasive art.” The idea is that if you stay true to your message and your aesthetic your art can pervade any medium. You shouldn’t have to limit yourself to any one particular medium like the gallery world, or the editorial world, the product world, or TV or film. It’s not an easy thing to do. The danger is that you can spread yourself too thin.

M: Did you coin the phrase “pervasive art”?

G: Yes I did (laugh). And it’s starting to stick a little bit more. When I first started talking about it my artist friends wanted more traditional terms like Modern Pop Art, or Pop Surrealism and so on. I perferred a more “meta” term that encompasses not just the style but our involvement in culture. Recently, the national media is starting to pick up on my term.

Above: Detail of "I Am Your Piñata" by Gary Baseman. View slideshow.

M: That’s a unique way to encompass the variety in your artistic diet. Any other clues to your overall strategy?

G: The goal is to blur the distinction between high and low art, while maintaining the integrity. I jokingly describe my art as, “Where the line between genius and stupidity has been smudged beyond recognition.”

M: Do you have a favorite medium?

G: Not at all. I still love doing illustration work occasionally. I’m still doing work for the New Yorker and Time for example. But right now I’m working on projects that evolve from the ground up, and are able to build from that foundation.

M: I’ve found your illustrations to be instantly recognizable. Are you comfortable with the whole idea of an artist having a style?

G: I think every artist needs to develop his or her own personal voice. One needs to find his or her own visual identity and statement. I prefer the term “approach” to “style” though, because style has much more of a surface connotation, rather than content. From my perspective, any time an art director is hiring me, they are hiring me for my point of view. I will ocassionally get a call that will request, “Can you draw a guy sitting in a chair?” They want my take of a guy sitting on a chair. Generally they call with a broader commission. More often they say, “This is the problem we have, can you come up with a visual solution?” That’s why I prefer the word "approach." Even though it contains the skin of the art, which is to say the medium, and the way you render the figure and so on, it’s more importantly the message that you’re projecting.

M: I’ve seen you mention the Hieronymus Bosch, the controversial 16th Century painter, as an influence. What appeals to you in his work?

G: Bosch was definitely an early influence on me. I admire the surreal, insane world he was able to create — especially in a period and a time when the church controlled the world of art. He came up in my early days trying to take risks and chances in being published. One of my first big jobs was with the New York Times Book Review. At the time they were primarily using New York artists, and I was living in Los Angeles. While I was visiting, Steve Heller offered me the cover of the New York Times Book Review. I was so excited that I was working on all these sketches over and over, trying to get it just right. We decided that the cover would be this little character who is running through different panels of different sections of the summer issue: from the sports section to the garden section to the financial section and so on. In the art section I had little details of paintings that I found inspiring, including Bosch’s, “The Garden of Earthly Delights.” Within his piece I took a little detail and drew it in my own way. When Steve looked at the sketch he asked, “What’s going on in here?” And I said, “That’s fine art, you know, Bosch’s “The Garden of Earthly Delights.” He said, “But what is that in particular?” “That’s a little guy with a flower sticking out of his ass.” He said, “When Bosch does it it’s fine art, when you do it it’s a flower sticking out of a man’s ass, you’ve got to take it out (laugh).” The first of many battles that I’ve lost.

M: I wonder if he would change his mind if he saw it today?

G: No, he would still find the flower sticking out of the man’s ass inappropriate.

M: Given your distinct approach, have you found others trying to plagiarize your look and feel?

G: Direct plagerism, not often. But I do find people being inspired by my work. I’m usually about five years ahead of the people who emulate my work. Eventually the good ones will find their own voice, and the bad ones will get out of the business.

Above: Detail of artwrok by Gary Baseman. View slideshow.

M: Earlier you mentioned your Emmy winning television show Teacher’s Pet. Was this your first foray into TV?

G: I did two pilots for Nickelodeon that never made it to air, which I worked on for many, many years.

M: Is Nickelodeon thinking about resurrecting the project based on your other successes?

G: I think they should. I’ve certainly thought about it. I am sure we will have discussions.

M: What was the premise?

G: The show was called Louie Louie. It was about two second-rate pets, a chameleon and a hamster, who were both forced to live in the same cage together. The parents have given these pets to their kids to teach them a sense of responsibility, but the kids are very irresponsible. They named them Louie-the-13th and Louie-the-14th. Louie and Louie felt they should be given the same love and affection as the cat and dog in the house. Of course in the real world they usually get put in the cage in the back of the porch.

M: Sounds fun. I can’t help but notice that animals are recurring characters in your projects. Are you an animal person?

G: Yeah. I kind of see man as pretty similar to domesticated animals. We’re all animals. And just like dogs and cats we need to be domesticated.

M: What kind of pets do you have at home?

G: Four black cats. But we had thirteen at one time.

M: So much for superstition, huh?

G: They’ve brought nothing but good luck, I guess. When we bought the house there were a couple of feral black cats in the backyard and they both got pregnant, and had litters. We gave most of them away and kept a few. We used to have a dog named Hubcaps, he was the inspiration for Teacher’s Pet. When I’d get home he was so thrilled, and I kind of wondered what the hell he was up to all day. The movie was dedicated to him.

M: Did the dot.com bust affect your commercial work?

G: Not really. I got to a point in my career where I wasn’t just waiting for the phone to ring. Rather, I was creating my own projects. As far as technology goes, I mean, there was a certain drive in animation, like everyone was after CGI. It's something I always considered a wonderful tool, but it’s still just a tool. It’s not the end all. And when people see something initially, they get excited. With time they realize it isn’t the savior, and it's still the individual that’s going to make it or break it.

M: Your successes have been in plain view for years now. Do you have any horror stories to share with other artists about projects or clients that were more trouble than they were worth?

G: I try not to look at it that way. You take chances, you learn from your mistakes, and then you move on. But war stories, are you kidding? Take the Louie Louie project: it took up four or five years of my life. They kept telling me, “You’re our favorite, you’ll get picked up.” Then it never happened. I worked on two pilots (for this project). When I did the first one I was a little young, but the second one was great. In the end it never got picked up. It was heartbreaking. But it gave me the incentive to go out and really make it happen.

M: Now that you can pick and choose, what are your criteria for picking up clients?

G: It mostly depends on the project, you know? What are the challenges? I like to take risks. I’m building up my “Baseman World.”

M: Tell me about your work ethic?

G: I guess you’d call me a workaholic.

M: How many hours a day are you in the studio?

G: Always. Everything (laugh) Try to sleep. Get up. Do it again. Try to swim, but even when I’m swimming I’m thinking of projects.

M: Is swimming what you do to relax?

G: My wife and I live in a real nice neighborhood in L.A., and have a pool nearby. So I taught myself to swim.

M: Did you ever swim competitively?

G: No. I was a track-and-field guy in high school.

M: I see you were born and raised in L.A., but got your real break in New York. Which do you prefer professionally or personally?

G: I love L.A. I enjoyed being in New York, and I enjoy making trips back there, but in terms of the weather and the quality of life, there’s no comparison.

M: What’s next on the horizon?

G: I’m finishing up a kid’s book for the Getty Museum. (I'm currently) in discussions about another TV project. I’m also creating a bunch of new art toys, clothing, and accessories. Also I’m working on a new gallery show that will happen next winter here in L.A.

M: Tell me about your gallery work.

G: I’ve been doing it seriously for about five years. I like to create a show that has a real strong point of view. The show I had in New York last fall was called Happy Idiot and Other Paintings of Unattainable Beauty. The whole show was about desire and longing. A very wet show, a lot of drool, a lot of puddles, a lot of wet dreams, a lot of manifestations of desire. The main theme of this show was a snowman that included a 27-inch ceramic sculpture of him. He was a snowman that purposefully melts himself down so his love, a mermaid, can live inside his body I was very pleased with that show. A real popular show here in L.A. a few years ago was titled I Am Your Piñata, which was a show about not being afraid to be whacked, to open yourself up to the public.

M: How autobiographical is that?

G: That’s what it’s all about.

© 2004 Mike Buchheit

Mike Buchheit is a writer, photographer, conservationist, and avid outdoorsman living in Grand Canyon National Park. His freelance articles and Southwest images highlight the transformative quality of wild places, and the aesthetic beauty and social importance of the arts. When not directing one of the country's leading outdoor education programs, Mike enjoys discovering what makes some of the design world's most creative minds tick.

You can view and purchase Mike Buchheit's Grand Canyon photography at: www.GrandCanyonPrints.com