The Wheeler Brother's: Novel Toys, Tricks, and Games

The Wheeler Brothers: Novel Toys, Tricks, and Games

May 18 - June 22, 2024

Press Release

Novel Toys, Tricks, and Games offers a fresh look at the Wheeler Brothers’ often humorous and sometimes acerbic reflections on the ethos and patho(logies) of our moment. In addition to a varied selection of their individual works, this exhibition also features collaborative drawing and paintings (which are always in high demand) between the brothers.

ABout The Artists

Originally from the panhandle of West Texas, the Wheeler Brothers; Jeff and Bryan emerged on the Texas art scene in the late 1990s with their “meta-regionalist,” irreverent, and genre-bending paintings, drawings, sculptures, and music. Since then, they have become fixtures, regularly exhibiting and curating exhibitions across the state, nationally, and internationally. They have also collaborated with many of the biggest names in Texas art. Many will recognize them through Ulterior Motifs, a series of ongoing exhibitions/gatherings they have organized since the early 2000s that have featured Texas art legends such as James Surls, Lucas Johnson, Sharon Kopriva, and The Art Guys..among many others.
Currently, Jeff lives and works in San Antonio, where, in addition to creating public murals, and the works seen here, he is the founder and director of C7 Gallery and co-founder and curator of the Echo Bridge Concert Series. Bryan maintains his studio in Lubbock, where he also records and produces music with his band, Los Sonsabitches, and is a lecturer at Texas Tech University.

Show statement

Collaboration has always been a part of our artistic practice. Our approach isn’t unique or a great mystery, although it is odd that artists haven’t always collaborated with one another. I mean, how great would it be to have some Nevelson-Cornell mash-ups or, well, I was about to say Leonardo-Michelangelo drawings, but they didn’t much like each other and I guess most Renaissance paintings are kinda collaborations… anyway, it’s unavoidable to say that the collaborative process is all about a dialogue or interplay. And play is especially key to this.
We never start with an idea of how a piece is going to look or what images it might contain. There are no rules, no directions. We work one-at-a-time, passing them back-and-forth (sometimes only a couple of times, sometimes several), reacting to what each other has done, until they feel “finished.”
Because our styles are just similar enough, and because we are both drawn to associative play, indeterminacy, stylistic deviations, etc., our collaborations can be effortless. Since we resist any efforts toward overt messages, they can roll off the tongue, especially as they take on a life of their own. Which is not to say they always work. Regularly, a piece will get stuck and sit undisturbed in a dusty corner, only revived (sometimes) years later when it gets cut up and collaged into another piece. Ultimately, everything gets used. Or not.
Despite all this and in spite of ourselves, themes emerge. Given similar experiences growing up and considerable overlap in our worldviews, it’s fair to say the collaborations are a direct extension and reflect all those interests and obsessions of our solo work.

Artist Statements

When I decided years ago that I was an artist, I knew that I wanted to create a life in which I could spend each day making something. I also knew that constant experimentation would be important. Thirty years later, that daily process of unfettered “serious play” in the studio comes with ease. I don’t start with preconceived ideas or themes, I just allow my hand to follow inspiration. And while I’m mostly interested in the making of the work, I am also fascinated with how viewers interact with and understand it. Others’ interpretations often provide insights that I’ve missed.
Still, there are ways-of-working and themes that are consistent in my art. For example, a big part of my process is gathering things that inspire me, like images and stories from the history of the American West and Art History, vintage frames and ledger paper, photographs of someone else’s forgotten memories, discarded ceramic forms, thrift store paintings, yearbooks, etc. If I find something interesting at the moment, I collect it, seldom knowing how it will end up being used. I also like to find items and subjects that have outlived their usefulness, filtering them through my studio, and then presenting them as shiny new objects to be collected and revered. I’m drawn to this process because I see it as allowing for chance encounters between the past and nostalgia, and the present day.
I also like the challenge of making something beautiful from any ordinary point of view, elevating a mundane moment of light and shadow. One way for me to do this is to work from observation, to depict scenes as close to the middle point between realism and abstraction as I can. In my daily life and travels, I always keep a sketchbook close and am continually drawing whatever catches my eye. And when traveling, I always go to draw at the places my art heroes painted and worked and lived in, such as Cezanne’s studio and Mont Sainte-Victoire in Aix-en-Provence, De Chirico’s studio in Rome, the hospital in Arles that so captivated Van Gogh as his ear healed, the stark landscapes of O’Keeffe’s Ghost Ranch, and so on. I enjoy literally following in the footsteps of the artists that inspire me.
Finally, a relatively new avenue of exploration for me are the abstract collages. These are for me, pure play. Working from scraps of “negative space” from collage cut-outs and random gathered materials, I’ll begin (again, with no plan) by placing the first piece which then sets off a series of intuitive reactions that don’t stop until the piece is “finished.” Sometimes it just feels good to work on simply how it feels, and not what it might mean.
- Jeff F. Wheeler
I’ve always been drawn, as Raymond Carver had it, to stories that never quite ravel. To things that were just a little out of place, beyond reach, around the bend, or vaguely conceived. Especially when those things were adjacent to big ideas, myths, archetypes. Itinerary from a young age (the son of a preacher) that extended well into adulthood, and an early exposure to postmodern literature, then, led to a predilection for the edges of things (not the leading edge, you know, but off to the side and just behind).
So, when I began making art, without being conscious of it, I fell naturally into an associative process, relating images to ideas (and vice versa) that I felt have been underdeveloped. By examining relationships and patterns (spatial, historical, conceptual, and otherwise) that were physically close but perhaps intellectually distant (or again, vice versa), I found a way to tell the story of my experience while continually deferring meaning, placing it just beyond the horizon, where I still feel it belongs. Some of the themes that have developed in this story (in addition to inevitable-to-me meta-art/narrative questions) include: Creation Myths and Cycles of Creation and Destruction, The Uneven Development of Civilization, Modernity’s Insistences: Their Perpetuation and Aftermaths (e.g., Labor as Existential Void and/or Meaningful Ritual), Identity and Exceptionalism in Post-Colonial Texas, vis-à-vis Other Post-Colonialisms, and Anti-authoritarianism as a Rejection of Obedience to the Divine.
My most recent drawings, paintings, and digital works continue to invite varied “readings” related to these themes and how meaning accumulates around them.
- Bryan Wheeler