Brent Elam hasn’t forgotten what it’s like to be a kid

Many of the various threads existent in Brent Elam’s artwork can be traced back to his childhood growing up in Chillicothe, from his deep love of pro wrestling and assorted pop culture artifacts to a preservationist urge inherited from his antique dealing grandmother that has led him to collect tall stacks of vintage magazines that he sources for the collaged backdrops present in many of his pieces.

“My wife says all the time, ‘You’re a hoarder,’” Elam said in an interview at 83 Gallery, where his work will feature in the Franklin Park gallery’s new monthly exhibition, which kicks off with an opening celebration from 6-11 p.m. on Saturday, Sept. 13. “I’ve got stacks of Life magazines from like 1965 through 1980, and she’ll go, ‘What are you going to do with those?’ And I say, ‘It’s for collage work.’”

Elam’s love for all things pop culture is evident from the moment one sets foot in the room at 83 Gallery dedicated exclusively to his work, an explosion of color that features exaggerated, comics art-influenced portraits of video game characters (Mario, Wario), wrestlers (Johnny Walker, aka “Mr. Wrestling II”), and various cartoon logos ripped direct from cereal boxes (Frankenberry, Count Chocula). 

Early in childhood, would use duct tape and markers to morph assorted MIGO dolls into wrestlers, with the kitchen table serving as a ring for their high-flying antics. “Growing up, I was someone who was happy if I had tape, string, a box, and a couple of action figures, because I could make stuff and play with my action figures with it,” said the artist, who has held tight to this playful spirit and imagination into adulthood.

Though Elam doesn’t shy from nostalgia, the works offer more than colorful sparks of recollection. Scattered throughout the space are pieces that fold in social commentary, including cubist drawings of “corporate pigs” and a portrait of a despondent Captain America done at the heights of the 2024 election that Elam said is rooted in the tear he felt expanding within the country at the time. Another piece folds in imagery from “Planet of the Apes” and surfaces the idea of a human apocalypse – a reality Elam said doesn’t exactly feel far-fetched given our current social and political situations.

The artist described his playful style as a mish-mash of influences, combining the comic book illustrators he grew up idolizing (John Byrne, Kevin Maguire, George Perez), classically trained painters (Amedeo Modigliani’s work inspired the elongated necks present in many of Elam’s characters), street artists, and even the flash and drama of professional wrestling, which he described as “a male soap opera.”

“I remember watching one day in like 1981 when I was 10 [years old] and being like, ‘What the hell is this?’ It’s theatrics, but it’s also artistry,” said Elam, an arts educator of more than 30 years who has consistently preached to his students the value of pulling inspiration from a myriad of sources. “I always tell my kids, ‘Go find your influences.’ If you pull from one artist, you’re just copying that one person’s work. But if you take bits and pieces from many different artists and you say, ‘I like this and this,’ you can start to incorporate all of these things … and you end up being you. And that’s why [in my work] you see minor comic characters and movies and cartoons and Tiki and toys and cryptids – all this weird, funky, low-brow type stuff.”

Elam traced his current style to a series of developments, including a point in time in the early 2000s when he was working on masonite and he realized he could cut his figures out once they were painted and mount them on different backgrounds rather than fitting everything cleanly within a canvas. 

“And I was like, well, hell. This really works,’” said Elam, who began to experiment with mounting his characters on a series of increasingly freeform, amoeba-like backgrounds, leaning into his art as a place in which he could explore the push and pull between control and chaos. “If you really look at a lot of the pieces, especially in the background, you can see there’s a lot of chaos going on, and then everything sort of tightens up as it goes along. And I love that chaos. I love that abstraction, where you’re pulling from all these different kinds of art – surrealism, cubism, street art, mid-century modern, collage.”

The creative process can also serve as a needed form of release, allowing the artist to better process this outwardly chaotic world. “I’d absolutely be a lot angrier if I didn’t have this as an outlet now, because there’s a lot to be angry about,” Elam said. “Luckily for me, this is my venting.”