Andrew Pommier (1973, Vancouver), skateboarder en kunstenaar woont in het hart van Vancouver. Zijn opdrachtgevers variëren van onder andere Heroin Skateboards, Momentum Wheels, Rossignol, Adidas tot RVCA. Zijn moeder is blij dat allebei haar kinderen goed terechtgekomen zijn. Broer Scott is namelijk een succesvol skateboard fotograaf. Maar dat is hier niet relevant. Het werk van Andrew is herkenbaar en haast naïef, maar ook ongemakkelijk op het sinistere af. Zelf benoemt hij dit gevoel in zijn werk als een ‘twinge of sad cuteness’. Andrew Pommier maakte kort geleden een cover voor RELOAD magazine van Belgische snowboarder Kevin Bronckaers. Lees hier het Engelse interview, mocht je RELOAD 49 gemist hebben.

How did you get into the arts? Who or what were your influences to start?
I got into drawing at a young age. My mom would give me paper and a pen to keep myself occupied. When I started in school I remember having a bunch of friends that I drew with who all had to have the same kind of lined spiral-bound notebook. I don’t know who originated the notebook but I knew I had to get one. That cemented my lifelong love of drawing and sketchbooks. In my early teens I started thinking about art in a broader sense during a summer trip when we passed through Ottawa and stopped at the National Gallery. We checked out the more traditional work, but my curiosity was really peaked by the contemporary section of the gallery. It was the first time I had been exposed to art that wasn’t the Group of Seven or Robert Bateman.

I’m an eternal late bloomer I was dumbfounded by Joseph Beuys and trying to figure out how a wooden sled with a wool blanket and blob of fat could be art. I remember a lot of giggling with my brother and dad at the absurdness of the pieces we were looking at, but that is where the doors opened to thinking about art being more than a painting on a wall. I didn’t catch up with that part of the art world again until my second year of art school. I’m an eternal late bloomer. As far as some of my early influences, they can be found in the world of comic books, drawers such as Art Adams and Bill Sienkiewicz.

The world of comic books gave way to skateboarding and then it was Mark Gonzales, Chris Miller, VCJ, and the rest. Now my influences run the gamut from Renaissance masters to the contemporary art world.

How would you describe your own style?
I’ve never been very good at translating how and what I paint into words. I guess the quick answer would be my work is figurative and has a sad humor in it. At the root my work is very informed by my sketchbook so there is a heavy drawing influence. I hate thinking about color, like what color a shirt or a pair of shoes should be, but I think I have a pretty good handle on working with color. I like my paintings to pop with color. I can’t tolerate a dull painting. That’s not to say I don’t use greys and darker colors; I’m just saying the colors can’t be muddy. I know that people can recognize my work when

they see it, and I know I have a personal style, but that evolved naturally without much thought. My style comes from an early love of comic books and animated series on after-school television and Saturday cartoons. Later I found skateboarding and was really excited by board graphics. It was only later that I discovered painting and fine arts. So all that is balled up in my head and it all, in small or large parts, makes it down to my hand. I wish I was better at rendering, but I think recently I have come to terms with how and what I paint.

You’ve worked for a lot of skateboarding companies. What is it in your work that you think appeals to the skateboarder?
Since I was thirteen I have been saturated with that world. I was a voracious consumer of skateboarding in my teens. I love everything about it. I believe I have a good understanding of what makes a good skateboard graphic. I love just being part of that world. Playing a small part in adding a little bit to the amazing visual history of it.

I read somewhere that your surroundings inspire you. What is it that you find in Canadian nature?
You are half right when you say I’m inspired by my surroundings, but when you say nature I think you are heading in the wrong direction. I’m not a big outdoorsman. Vancouver is surrounded by nature but I rarely get into the woods. I’m not a huge fan of hiking and I haven’t been camping in over a year. I’m not against it. It’s just rare that I get the opportunity or the interest in heading out into the wild. My inspiration comes from the down and out of my urban surroundings. My studio is located in the worst neighborhood in Canada. On a daily basis I see many people in the grip of poverty, drug addiction, and mental health issues. It can be sad, but there is also so much going on there. It’s an amazingly random place that gets me thinking and turning things over in my mind.

Do you think that being a Canadian artist has advantages or disadvantages compared to being an American artist?
It’s hard for me to say if either one is better. I can only go with what I know. The major disadvantage is how hard it is to live in the States legally. It would be easier for me to work in the skateboard and art worlds if I lived in California, but I travel down to L.A. pretty regularly since I moved to Vancouver.
I do my best with the situation I’m living in. I like living in Canada for the most part. It’s always nice to come back here after being away. It feels like a safe place to be. I think one of the major advantages of being from Canada is the slower pace we move at as a culture. It gives one time and space to evolve naturally. I think Canada has a little better understanding of the importance of culture. In the past, the government has been pretty good at giving the arts funding. That and socialized medicine.

Animals play a dominant role in your paintings and drawings. Why?
The animal kingdom provides a wealth of imagery and symbols. I like contrasting animals with people, as animals are ruled by instinct and nature. They aren’t bogged down by anything extra except the drive to survive, while people get up to all sorts of nonsense and continue to destroy the place they live in. In some small way it’s a comment on what we have become as a people and how we have forgotten to consider our animal friends, but in a larger way it’s just a way for me to draw sharks and squid and pigeons and deer without having to be a nature painter.
Artists like Josh Keyes and Tiffany Bozic have a much better handle on it than I will ever have, but I’m doing my best with the fists I’ve got. If I had my way I would paint differently.

Besides animals, there are a lot of masks in your work. Who are you trying to hide and/or protect?
I like the idea that a mask can play many roles: from being frightened and wanting to hide, to being menacing, to being an object of playfulness. I like the ambiguity of it as a symbol. It’s just one of the many elements or crutches I lean on when making work. But I don’t believe that when I first started drawing masks I was thinking of any of that. It just popped into my head and was born out of observation. My work is more about randomness than thought or contemplation.