Interview with Jon Neal Wallace

Your thesis, Light from Design, introduced "Directions"—a principle that intertwines light with sacred geometry. In your artistic process, do you see light as a literal medium, a symbolic force, or both? How has your understanding of light evolved over time in your work?

It's both, actually. At Vermont College, my professors asked me about the directions of lines in my work. I told them about my idea, and they gave me a bibliography list of physics books about light from physicists such as Hawking and Einstein, among others. I read them and saw how my design relates to light. Then another professor had me read a book about sacred geometry, and I saw how my design relates to both light and sacred geometry. As I move forward, I also see how it relates to multiverses or higher dimensions of light.

Your transition from the Light series to your Rainforests and National Parks series suggests a growing engagement with ecological themes. How do you navigate the intersection of surrealism and environmentalism without the former abstracting the urgency of the latter?

By the use of metaphors. I used Native Americans in my work as symbols of respect for nature and to preserve the wildlife that dwells there. Examples include the totem poles, which symbolize Native Americans honoring the wildlife. Their spirits are reminding us to preserve and respect nature.

Your inspirations span Salvador Dalí’s dreamlike distortions and Da Vinci’s technical precision. What aspects of these masters' works do you carry into your own, and in what ways do you consciously break away from them?

I respect the masters you asked me about. The main difference is the design of my work. Da Vinci had a high emphasis on structure, while Dalí used standard surrealist designs. H.R. Giger was known for his monstrous creations using high emphasis. Their skill level is something I only hope I can equal, but my design sets me apart.

Your unrealized work featuring Ai Weiwei and Mao Zedong was intended as a critique of democracy in China. In today’s polarized world, where art can provoke, educate, or even be censored, do you see yourself as a neutral observer or an active participant in political discourse?

My environmental work is not passive. By using Native Americans in my work, I aim to provoke thought about respecting nature and wildlife. It was their land, and they took good care of it. But now, it is no longer theirs.

Surrealism historically emerged as a reaction to war, repression, and the subconscious mind’s mysteries. In an era of AI-generated art and digital manipulation, how do you keep surrealism fresh and authentic while maintaining the painterly integrity of your craft?

By my design. When I start a painting, I have a blank canvas. I don't sketch the design out; I freeform it with spontaneity. In my mind, I know how the design is going to be, but I approach it like a jazz musician—I freeform it.

Your compositions radiate with strikingly vibrant greens, reds, and blues, often morphing organic and human forms into near-hallucinatory structures. How does your color theory reinforce the conceptual themes of your work, and have there been shifts in your approach over time?

I use triadic contrasting color schemes in my environmental paintings. For the National Parks series, I use this color scheme to create contrast. For the Light paintings, I used green to represent the color of light and contrasted it with bright reds and purples.

You’ve spoken about your studio as a sanctuary—quiet, music-filled, a realm for deep focus. How does the atmosphere of your creative space influence your work? Could your art exist if it were created in a chaotic or unfamiliar setting?

I like it peaceful. However, I used to be in a place that was chaotic and noisy, but I managed to paint nonetheless.

You’ve primarily worked with oil but have experimented with acrylics. Does the material you use dictate the fluidity of your expression, or do you choose your medium based on the concept of the piece? What can oil accomplish that acrylics cannot?

I have used acrylics, but I plan on switching to acrylics for my new paintings on higher dimensions of light.

Many contemporary artists navigate the fine line between commercial success and institutional validation. As you aim for museum exhibitions, do you feel the art world is evolving to embrace visionary artists like yourself, or do you see resistance to unconventional narratives?

In the Midwest, there is resistance to the new and different. I feel that major cities on the coasts and in Japan are more accepting of visionary art. A Japanese art blog gave me rave reviews for my work, which the Midwest does not. They understood my art.

Your work is an ongoing dialogue between science, philosophy, and art. Looking forward, do you see your practice expanding into new media—perhaps sculpture, installation, or even digital formats—or do you feel painting will always remain the most honest vehicle for your ideas?

I plan on doing art installations, as well as a series of portraits using my design in them. This will be similar to Picasso's abstract portrait art.

https://aatonau.com/jon-neal-wallace-the-path-from-geometry-to-environmentalism/