Today we’d like to introduce you to Kyle Taylor.
Alright, so thank you so much for sharing your story and insight with our readers. To kick things off, can you tell us a bit about how you got started?
I grew up in Memphis, TN. All of my family is from here. When I was 8 the neighborhood we grew up in was starting to grow more violent so we moved out to a new subdivision that was being built in Lakeland. I remember seeing the big Wolfchase mall countdown sign at the corner of Germantown Rd. and HWY64.
Growing up in Lakeland was fun. I attended Mt. Pisgah Middle School which was tucked back into the woods (not so much anymore). I caught the bus with my friends in the neighborhood and we used to Lord-Of-The-Flies-style play in an unfinished portion of the subdivision that never was developed. We called it the “Dirt Place.” We had dirt clod wars, rode four-wheelers, played pretend, and made fires. And when we’d get hungry, we’d pull our pennies together and go antagonize the car hops at the Sonic that set at the entrance to the neighborhood. One of our other favorite past times was rearranging the letters on the Walgreens sign near our house. My dad, brother, and I would study the letters at every pass, scrabbling the letters in our minds. Once we knew we had something, someone say “pull over” and we’d attack it like a pit crew.
In high school dad took a job in ministry that allowed us the opportunity to attend Harding Academy. I subsequently lost connection with alot of my neighborhood people as the high school years began. Looking back, I feel like my commute to East Memphis from Lakeland everyday formed this bridge where I never really saw any other aspects of our city.
It wasn’t until I started coming home in the summers from college that I began actually exploring midtown, downtown, and various other parts of Memphis. I met my future wife in 2010 on a medical mission trip in Zambia and I knew that my path was bringing me back to my hometown.
Cindy has long been involved in arts advocacy and administration. While we were dating, I would share these crazy ideas I had about public art or various shows and she always seemed to come back with, “there’s a grant for that.”
While scrambling to find work as a fresh college grad in a new environment, I began applying for public art RFPs. I was a part of the Urban Art Commission’s inaugural mural program. I once presented as a finalist in one of Crosstown Art’s crowd-sourcing projects while the Concourse was still being dreamed up.
I just put myself out there everywhere I could, which got the attention of a newly growing media mouthpiece in the city known as Choose901. I will never forget calling them one day after I had painted a 15′ Marc Gasol dressed as a matador and was on my way to paste it up on the Highland Strip. Amanda Hill came out and put me on Periscope (the prelude to Instagram Live) and it blew up. For the next few years, I looked for opportunities to essentially pull “art stunts” that, frankly, would help me build a portfolio and help me make a living.
I applied to, and lost, countless RFPs (request for proposals) and after losing one particular one that was being hosted by the Downtown Memphis Commission, I approached them with the idea of wrapping the bottom floor of the Sterick Building. Alongside fellow Memphians, Brandon Marshall and Brandon Donahue (who painted large pieces from middle TN and shipped them in), we made it happen and brought tons of attention to a corner that had long been forgotten.
A couple of weeks ago my friends Josh Conley, Cole Jeanes, Harrison Downing, and a host of some of the best food/beverage professionals in the city hosted our 10th Etowah dinner in the former bank marking the beginning of the building’s next era. I have chills just now thinking about how full circle it all felt. Artist statements that were pasted up on chained doors were broke open to welcome in guests. An art panel depicting the notorious Boss Crump was propped up on display inside a dimly lit hall while people mingled around it. It was so surreal, I still don’t think I have comprehended it.
I believe that art/design have no boundaries and often go hand-in-hand. And more than anything they are tools for problem solving. That’s generally how I think of my work. In my personal work I’m trying to solve the problem of explaining an idea that is difficult to communicate in words. In my professional work I’m trying to use words and images to persuade people to act, think differently, and so on.
I’m extremely thankful that I have had the opportunity to meet people from various walks of life that share the same passion for building something in Memphis, TN. It feels like I am living out the answer to a prayer I prayed when I first moved back here. Lord, help me to give back to this city that made me.
Cindy and I just celebrated 13 years of marriage. We have two beautiful daughters, Naomi(7) and Myra(4), who are an absolute hoot and continually challenge us.
In recent years, in addition to the Etowah Dinner Series, I have designed merchandise for the Memphis Grizzlies, exterior signage for Semmes Murphey, completed commissions for local chefs Andy Ticer and Michael Hudman at Catherine & Mary’s, helped Cole Jeanes conceptualize the Kinfolk brand, designed the initial branding of Hard Times Deli which Harrison Downing just opened in the Edge, worked with Bryant and Heather Bain on the reimagining of Barksdale’s, and have recently completed artwork and branding for the new Bar Limina set to open next door from Sam Phillips Recording Studio.
Memphis is an often-overlooked treasure trove of history and culture. Rather than looking for the next coolest thing that you’ve seen in another city and wishing you could build it here, I think we’re better off playing to our strengths–and that is something we have in spades. You got a winning hand if your bass player or drummer came from Memphis, TN.
I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?
There have been low points. Lots of low points. In my pursuit to continually push the boundaries of my work, I wasn’t always met with open arms. A public mural I once did of Rufus Thomas was seen as a less than flattering depiction of him by a group of local historians. Thomas was someone considered to be more than an entertainer. He was a role model, an educator, and a trailblazer in the Black community. From their perspective, my depiction felt like a satirical nod to the minstrel show era by which he began his career. I was straight white kid from the suburbs who was clueless. Not only did I see it painted over, but I was later forced to confront it, by surprise, in a classroom of my peers during a community engagement workshop I was apart of. I remember thinking this must be what hell feels like–your sins on public display.
I later spent time with some of the individuals who spearheaded the removal of that mural where I learned about the democracy of the public image and the importance of minority groups being able to control how they are depicted in the public sphere. As someone who now works in the marketing/advertising world, this is a lesson that I am continually learning and sharing with others when I can.
Appreciate you sharing that. What else should we know about what you do?
I think my blessing is also my curse. I can do alot of different things. During the pandemic, I taught myself 3D modeling which I used to design a studio garage for me and Cindy. I also learned 3D printing and used those skills to help design and launch a boardgame with my friend Reuben Brunson. But my main passion has always been painting. I see wood panels or stretched canvas as portals to another dimension. Because my artistic schooling was more digital and marketing based, I didn’t receive a lot of technical training in panting, which generally speaking, teaches you to work from the back to the front–working light and then slowly building up your image as you go. I tend to push and pull and work in layers. I like to overlap layers and change the way objects appear when something interacts with it. There is alot of organic, rock-like forms and clouds in my work. I like to depict things floating, b/c again, paintings are a place where anything can happen. Growing up around alot of construction made me comfortable with tools and I think I carry that into my painting. I’m less interested in mixing and blending colors and more interested in seeing how things will interact on the surface.
I’ve also been exploring AI-generated art, which is a contentious topic in the art community. I look at as another medium by which to communicate with. The reason why alot of painters enjoy painting on canvas is because of the haptics of canvas. There is a bounce to it. It gives back when you push into it. AI can be like that too. You feed and refine, feed and refine. You might have heard the old legend of Michelangelo simply “setting the angel free” from the marble. With AI, the marble is your prompt. You have to create the marble before you can form anything of substance from it.
So maybe we end on discussing what matters most to you and why?
Not quitting.
Most of my anxiety, and I now openly admit to struggling with that, stems from this notion of one day giving up or no longer having the desire to create art. My grandfather was a part of the Greatest Generation. He fought in WWII, was stationed all over the world, retired Sgt. Major from the U.S. Army, taught R.O.T.C. in the Memphis City Schools and all while teaching himself calligraphy, drafting, and oil painting. We have a couple of his pieces in our home. But one day he quit. My mom said that her and my aunts tried to convince him to pick it back up but he never would.
When I was new to Memphis, I remember cold calling Johnny Taylor, an artist whose work I really admired. He invited me over for a studio visit and he quickly ate up a whole hour answering every question I had about what it took to be a “successful” artist.
“I know it sounds too simple, but just don’t quit.” He went on to share stories about how art school friends had gotten out of the practice through one circumstance or another and he just hadn’t. He had created his own metric for success. He had learned how to value his time. “If I don’t end every week hitting the numbers that I need to hit, then there’s no reason for me to continue.”
That was over 10 years ago. I left his studio on a mission that I’m still on.
I carry that afternoon with me everyday and I occasionally reach out to him to thank him for the wisdom. I know my work will change and evolve as I continue to change and evolve, but I never want to quit.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.kyletaylorart.com/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kyletaylorart
- LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/kyletaylorart/
Image Credits
The tablescape with the deer is Houston Cofield (https://www.instagram.com/houstoncofield/).
The Choose901 merch shoot was shot by Emily Frazier (https://www.instagram.com/emilyjfrazier/)
My personal shot was taken by Andrew Puccio (https://www.instagram.com/a_puccio/)
