Painter Trevor Young stands in his Silver Spring studio grimacing over a painting he’s been working on. He has faced this problem before. This time the source of the dilemma is the logo on the sign in front of a Mobil gas station. (The painting may evoke a similar work by Edward Hopper, of whom Young says he’s not a big fan, but whom he references repeatedly in conversation.) In earlier paintings it’s been a McDonald’s, or a WalMart. In each case, Young has painted the logo in only to grudgingly paint it out before exhibition,* a fate he hopes to avoid this time around.
This is the frustration that comes with being the self-described “president of the outmoded painters society.” Ironic detachment has become so ordinary in the art world that it’s difficult to paint a gas station logo without it being interpreted as “pop.” But Young paints gas stations because he loves gas stations, along with fast food restaurants, airports and bank machines. (Case in point: while eating a burger from McDonald’s he explains that he prefers to have a few stopovers when he flies so he can check out the airports along the way.) For that matter, he loves nearly anything man-made and generic, including bridges, trains and public restrooms, and he will speak at length about the wonders of synthetic light.
At the heart of this is what Young calls “non-places.” Coined in an essay by Marc Augé, non-places are “transient, generic places with no cultural relevance to any one person,” places where one can be surrounded by people without interacting with anyone. While this might seem lamentable to some—including Augé, whom Young calls an “angry Frenchman”—Young embraces modern society’s ability to get gas, cash, food and directions without personal interaction. “If we were to walk into certain places, we might be uncomfortable if there’s nobody there. But non-places, what’s so beautiful about them is you just pull up, nobody there ... We just get our gas and we leave.” (He joyfully compares this experience to a futuristic man-on-cyborg sex act à la Blade Runner, then admits, “This is an extreme exaggeration.”)
Young picked up art at an early age, originally wanting to be a sculptor. His transition to painting began when he was inspired by a trash can. (He started small, apparently.) “I just wanted to paint this beautiful modern trash can,” he says. “I decided it was so gorgeous, when I actually realized I could own something by visually painting it.” He attended the University of the Arts in Philadelphia, where he recalls a professor telling him that everything in his work “has already been done and there’s no reason to do it.” But, Young counters, “If an artist is in love with something that’s passé, as long as they make a commitment to it for the rest of their life, I don’t think it really matters.”
Life as an artist hasn’t necessarily been easy. His studio, a little run-down house in downtown Silver Spring, is his fifth in the past year—he was assaulted by an actor in a previous studio, and the neighbors complained about the fumes in another—and he doesn’t expect to stay here long. Still, Young shows his work all over the country, with recent shows in San Diego, Michigan and Miami. One of his paintings is part of the permanent collection at the Washington Convention Center, and it’s not unusual to see his larger paintings reach five-figure price tags. Apparently the outmoded painters society has its share of devotees.
Trevor Young’s work has been exhibited at Civilian Art Projects, Flashpoint Gallery, and the former Troyer Gallery. He will be a featured artist at Scope Miami Nov. 29 – Dec. 4.
*In the case of McDonald’s, Young leaves in the iconic golden arches, which he can’t seem to admire enough; and if this were a historical painting, he might lovingly include Mobil’s pegasus logo.
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