The Philadelphia artist picks through pop culture, creating art that upends expectations.
Images: D’Andre Williams
Intro: Whitney Mallett
I got to meet Anthony Coleman at his book signing at Amanita Gallery in New York last year. The drawings from his solo show Character Study were hanging on the walls behind him — colorful works on paper that treaded the line of recognizability. There was a purple figure that I was pretty sure was based on the McDonald’s character Grimace. I would hazard a guess that another portrait was maybe of E.T. There was a round orange face with big lips and bob-length yellow hair which I only knew was Blondie because block letters above her head spelled out “BLONDIE.” Another drawing depicted bowling pins next to a clown. A mix of corporate mascots, fictional characters, and real-life celebrities populate Coleman’s vibrant-zany universe, but wherever these references come from, they’re always rendered in the artist’s signature style. Recognition often blurs with memory over time, and Coleman’s practice plays with this. You might not be able to pinpoint exactly where you’ve seen one of the figures rendered in his drawings before, but you can always tell that they’ve been done by Coleman’s hand.
Every artist steals. But perhaps it’s only truly great artists who can’t help but make something their own when they copy it. Something in the process means that the original thing gets translated along the way, imbued with a gesture or quality that only that artist could have given it. As much as I try to resist grand claims about art, I believe this one. And forgive me for bringing up AI, but as machine-learning tools become better at imitating what we can make, across all mediums, this ineffable idiosyncratic quality has more and more currency. I’m not sure that great artists are more unique than the rest of us. It feels more accurate to say that they’ve found a way to successfully channel their individual frequency. If you believe that each of us is a special snowflake, then great art could be someone speaking in a voice that is authentic to who they are (as opposed to trying to be something they’re not).
There are certain motifs that repeat in Coleman’s drawings — whether they’re of Garfield, Gumby, or Star Wars’ C3PO. Noses are often Pinocchio-long. Faces are frequently heart-shaped or upside-down triangles. Dominant colors are pink, green, red, and yellow. There’s a graphic flat two-dimensionality to the head-on portraits. The compositions are centered and a little off-kilter at the same time. The figures take up a majority of the page, and it’s not unusual for antenne-like appendages to be added on, or the top of a head to be cropped off. There’s a fanfic quality to casting characters from diverse origins — Pikachu, Pink Panther, Bugs Bunny, Big Bird, Baby Yoda, Minnie Mouse, clowns from Federico Fellini’s 1970 film The Clowns — all into this singular universe of Coleman’s imagination. This world has a wonky-uncanny charm, a bewitching aura shared by the best bootlegs.
There is a raw joyfulness to Coleman’s work that hints at the context in which his drawings are made. Coleman is a non-verbal 55-year-old artist with developmental disabilities, born and raised in Philadelphia. He communicates primarily through sign language, writing, and drawing. The vivid fantasy and total unpredictability of the world he creates through his drawings feel exuberant but also vital. Something rubs off from how Coleman feels making this work, and so when you engage with it, the impact is life-affirming. The artist loves drawing. This is so apparent when you see Coleman at work, focused, serious, and full of vocation, like I did that afternoon at the book signing in the gallery. And this electrifying impulse to want to draw comes through with not only directness and sincerity, but with the signature of an artist who is not trying to be anyone but himself.
A Brief Interview with Anthony Coleman
What prompted your love of drawing?
I used to draw funny people on staff paperwork. I would go into the supervisor’s drawer and find paper to draw on.
How much do you think growing up in Philadelphia influenced your drawing style?
A lot of looking at graffiti helped me to express myself more as an individual.
How do you think your drawings have evolved over time?
I am getting bolder with my lines, while some are becoming a little more abstract.
You primarily work with graphite, coloring pencils and markers – are there any new mediums that you’d like to experiment with in the future?
Maybe with the help of my coach Andrew we can explore new things.
What is your ideal setting or environment for creating art in?
Working in my art room.
You’ve stated that horror movies and shows inspire you to draw. What do you think it is about the horror genre that is so inspiring?
Horror movies are funny. They make me think of cartoon characters and things I picture in my own mind.
Why do you think you have taken to drawing characters and portraits over things like landscapes and still life objects?
The characters bring a certain type of life to me. It makes me happy.
Do you ever have moments where you hit a creative block?
Only if I don’t have any drawing paper or my art supplies.
Your work was exhibited in 2020 as part of SAGE Studio’s “Home Makers” show. How did this compare to seeing your work exhibited for the first time?
It made me proud that I am somebody. I like meeting people and getting to go to places with my staff that support me.
How would you like your work to be remembered?
I'd like to be remembered like this, “Tony, with art, made a mark and was accepted.”
