comics & toons

Prohibition Era Dailies:

with a grudge: the art of joseph john sanchez iii

BY RON EVANS

Joseph John Sanchez III is relatively new to the Wenatchee area but he’s already made a noticeable impact on the local art and spoken word scene. He’s been a (very popular and well-received) part of open mic at RadarStation sharing funny stories, dreams and random thoughts. His stage meandering often leaves audiences in full-body laughter, though he seems to reject the label of comedian. Maybe he would reject labels of any sort. And who cares anyway? He is what he is and he ain’t what he ain’t. While we find out a little about what he is, let’s see if we can also find out what he ain’t.

Hi Joe. What are you ain’t?

This is a great question, because there are so many things that I could be if I tried or had any desire to be. Definitively, I can tell you that I am not someone who’s listed on Forbes’ 30 Under 30 list, because I am too old and absolutely unqualified in every imaginable way.

I grew up in New Jersey. Despite living an hour away from the greatest art museums in the world, I fell in love with art via Saturday morning cartoons and Sunday comic strips. I was obsessed with Peanuts and convinced I would be a cartoonist one day. My art teachers were my heroes, to the point that I would cut study hall in high school to hang out with them.

In college, I experimented intellectually with at least ten different majors before going back to art. Sadly, I developed a contentious relationship with the department, which resulted in a lackluster response to my senior thesis exhibition. I took this as a sign that I should abandon art to pursue a decade-long career in marketing.

Art, of course, had a different plan for me. It remained in my life on a peripheral level, and shortly before moving to Wenatchee in 2018, I decided to take the leap and make it my full-time gig.

“This might sound crazy, but I cannot wait to be ashamed of the work I’m making now.”

How did you find your way to this pairing of words/writing and imagery? Would you consider this style to be

poetry at all?

It’s a long story that begins with a grudge. My printmaking professor was the living embodiment of Oscar the Grouch. During a critique, he obliterated me for writing the word “love” on a piece. I interpreted this as him saying that words have no place in art, and because of my longrunning issues with authority figures, I set out on a lifelong mission to prove him wrong.

It started with towers of overlapping text—little journal entries that nobody could actually read. This technique joined a repertoire of tedious, intricate patterns that I repeated on free daily newspapers, while commuting in New York City and the Boston area.

I was fascinated with finding new ways to fill space on paper, so one day I started surrounding a photo of Beyoncé with swirling, handwritten song lyrics and geometric shapes that were subconsciously inspired by Keith Haring’s work. This was in 2013. It took me five years to revisit this process.

Not yet. The majority of my pieces use quotes from other sources. I try my best to attribute them to the original author, and in certain cases, I will send royalties to these individuals. I’m open to collaborations with poets, authors, or other wordsmiths. At the moment, I’m somewhere between imitation and emulation, dipping my toe lightly into the possibility of innovation. I’m constantly afraid of copyright or intellectual property complaints, so it’s almost a necessity to gravitate to more original content.

One of my upcoming pieces is called “Find Yourself”. It includes a sea of names, along with a guarantee that you will find yourself. This is true even if your name doesn’t appear in the piece, because I’ve hidden the word “Yourself” somewhere next to “Billy.”

Are the words telling a story or are you mostly going for a visual/graphical usage first and foremost?

It varies from piece to piece. Some are inspired by the text, while others are inspired by a shape or image. In my opinion, the most successful pieces have a synergy between the two.

That said, I’ve found that some people are drawn to abstract, solid text pieces if the words speak to them enough. It’s their own little secret or a conversation piece that begs random viewers to ask, “Hey, what the heck does this mean?”

es in any way or do you just hit ink/ lead to paper and see where it goes?

Anyone who knows me knows that I am not usually great at planning ahead. Yet, in a shocking twist, the majority of my pieces are mapped out in pencil beforehand and carefully measured with a ruler before I put any ink onto paper. To ensure accuracy, this can often involve a projector, stencils, or tracing everyday objects.

Once the blueprint is established, things descend into a delicate chaos. I know the words I’m going to use, and I know where they need to go. It’s like “coloring inside the lines” with text. I just rotate the paper and let intuition take over.

There’s a mystery to your pieces and yet they seem fully exposed and vulnerable. Do you allow yourself full freedom when creating? Is there ever second guesses or self-limitations in your creative process?

There’s this bizarre combination of restraint and freedom. I’m so married to filling an entire space or creating a certain shape or form that I have a tendency to forget there’s beauty in the “unfinished” product. I’m challenging myself to get over that hurdle in the year to come. Take chances. Break the rules. Get a little ugly.

All in all, I would not be the artist I am today if I didn’t constantly second-guess myself. I look back at some of my old work with joyful disgust, laughing at how I ever thought it was a good idea. This might sound crazy, but I cannot wait to be ashamed of the work I’m making now. That will mean that I’ve evolved.

Do you do any poetry/prose/writing?

I have been threatening to write a graphic memoir ever since I discovered they are a thing that exists in the world. While walking through a major bookstore chain the other day, I audibly said out loud to virtually no one, “I hate that there are people who have book deals that aren’t me.” This is a glimpse into my delusions of grandeur, as someone who hasn’t written a single page of anything in the past year.

Wait, that’s actually a lie! I do free-writing on occasion. It is largely incoherent and should never be seen by any other human eyes. You might think I’m being self-deprecating, but it literally involves me jotting things down like, “Give a Grammy to Fantasia Barrino, you cowards!”

You have recently been doing comedy/spoken word at some local events and open mics. Is this new? Does it connect to your art on any level?

Comedy is extremely new to me. I dipped my toes in the water earlier this year, then suddenly realized I wanted to do a cannonball into the pool. My first attempt went better than expected, and I found myself chasing that high week after week. It became impossible to attend open mic night without signing my name on that sheet. In the past few weeks, I’ve felt lost without a safe space in town to screw up, ramble, and express myself as a queer little weirdo. It almost makes me want to quit? But also, I have been threatening to quit comedy since the day I started.

My comedic influences have found ways of trickling their way into my art. I’ve done pieces based on quotes by Robin Williams and Amy Sedaris, as well as fan art for Bob’s Burgers, Reno 911, and The Comeback.

Despite my desperate desire to be taken seriously, I have trouble doing anything serious for too long. This usually results in me balancing out my formal work with goofy, irreverent things that feel like a waste of time until someone says, “Hey, I love this!”

Are you working on art every day? Or is it when the inspiration strikes only?

I fluctuate between phases of extreme productivity and extreme downtime. Usually, the productivity is motivated by the guilt I feel about the downtime. It’s a never-ending cycle, sponsored by lingering Catholic guilt and PTSD from the 2008 recession. I survive it by drinking too much coffee and taking warm baths in my constant shame and anxiety.

To give myself some credit, I am mostly a one-man show (with support from my amazing and particularly patient partner, Eric). I have to juggle creating work with scanning, editing, applying for shows, and dozens of other administrative tasks. I’m still getting used to being my own boss.

Sometimes, inspiration takes a backseat to these tasks, and sometimes, it takes a backseat to my unreasonable need to spend all day sprawled out on the couch in a stolen hotel bath robe, binge-watching The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel as I fight off an existential crisis. The truth is, the extra time allows ideas to marinate and take on new forms.

What other art forms have you dabbled in?

Drawing, collage, and printmaking are the three obvious ones. Last year, I took woodworking and glass-blowing courses at Pratt Fine Arts Center in Seattle. The latter did not go so well. I am dying to step outside of my comfort zone, until I have to resurrect myself to crawl back into it. On the performance side, I’ve dabbled in theater, music, and choreography. Please do not start rumors that I’m a triple threat, though, because most of that happened in college approximately 400 years ago.

Is there an ideal working environment?

If it’s not too cluttered, I’m partial to the desk in my studio. The only strict rule is that coffee isn’t allowed anywhere near it. I spent two days working on a piece inspired by Charles Schulz, then nudged my mug and gasped in horror as the spill spread across my desk. To clear my mind, I tried to go on a hike to Saddle Rock, but I took the wrong path and went in a complete circle down the hill. It was the most Schulz-ian series of events in my life. I felt like Charlie Brown trying to kick the football, only to have it pulled away at the last second. I’ve found that my aural environment is just as important as my physical location. Music helps me keep a rhythm and maintain forward momentum. Conversational podcasts like Las Culturistas and Seek Treatment are life-savers when I’ve spent hours alone working on a piece and start to feel like I’m losing my mind. TV shows can even work as background noise, as long as they don’t require too much attention.

Any shows/exhibits coming up?

Nothing is planned in Wenatchee, though I want to make it clear that I am EXTREMELY OPEN to new opportunities with enough advance notice.

If you happen to be traveling to Twisp before January 5, I have five pieces in Confluence Gallery’s phenomenal “Wit & Whimsy” show.

Other than that? I’d say to follow @joejohnart on Instagram, Facebook, or Twitter for upcoming announcements. C