You used to notice them around Atlanta, these canvases of graffiti that resembled something you’d see in a gallery. They showed up mainly in Little Five Points, near a small little apartment community on Seaboard Ave., where a young artistic force named Tyler Kline lived. Hours were poured onto concrete walls as Tyler would stand, arms poised like a conductor, hands wielding a paintbrush as he let loose his mind in the middle of a summer night. Rarely did anyone dare paint over them, instead leaving the art to stand as testament to the fact that sometimes even the subversive holds an intricate role in the structure of society. A decade later, only a few of these paintings remain, the walls that once held them having now been torn down in favor of fake lofts and giant retail outlets.

One of my oldest friends, Tyler first came into my world 15 years ago when I was a young girl running loose on the streets of Savannah, and he and a group of friends played the role of older brothers. He attended class at the Savannah College of Art and Design, and the apartment where he lived, a dirty set of rooms filled with skateboards, liquor and a lot of laughter, was a common after school destination. In Savannah I got the first glimpse of the man Tyler would become -- smart, empathetic yet realistic with an imagination that flies far behind anything easily visualized. He then painted largely on leftover skateboards, some broken, others chipped and worn. Three of these still hang in my house, they always hang in my house, as I’d feel somewhat stripped without seeing them each day.

Today Tyler is a happily married father of a beautiful young son named Max. But even though his life has settled considerably, his mind still reels with the possibilities it holds within.  

Click here to see his portfolio. Read below to find out more about Tyler Kline. You can email the artist at tykline3@yahoo.com.



Pine Magazine: When did you first pick up a brush and realize this is what you wanted to do?

Tyler Kline: I first picked up the brush to paint lead Dungeons and Dragons figures at the tender age of 5. I used to play D&D with the Bedell Boys in Stone Mountain. There was a hobby shop across the street. This was the beginning.


PM: Could you give us a little background on your career? Your schooling?

TK: After graduating from Stone Mountain High School, I moved to Savannah and attended SCAD on scholarship. More than anything, the town itself taught me how to paint. There is something spectral and eternal in the very fabric of Savannah itself. I carry these thoughts and impressions to this day, the way light changes as it climbs up and down walls, and the beautiful decay of time.


PM: And can you tell me about your time in Portland, such as the gallery you started?

TK: I moved to Portland in the summer of ‘98 for adventure, and to escape the heat of Atlanta.

Once in Portland, I worked a series of factory jobs and quickly plugged myself into the art scene. In the winter of 2001 I founded a gallery called Zeitgeist, (which is) German for time, (or) ghost -- the spirit of the times. This quickly became the nexus for an underground art movement encompassing skate art, street art, outsider art, and experimental installation. This was one of the best experiences of my life -- the challenge of orchestrating an art show every month and hosting the town's bohemian art culture. The experience was also draining, and I passed the torch on to my friend Paul Fujita. Recently, Damon Ayers has taken over the helm, and I'm journeying back to Portland in September for a solo installation at Zeitgeist.


PM: Tell us a little bit about the Philadelphia art scene.

TK: Philly is one of the most spectacular cities in America. The depth of history, and the strength of its current art scene are beyond compare. Some of the nations most venerable institutions are in town, such as the Barnes Foundation, the Academy of Fine Arts, the Philadelphia Sketch Club and so on. As far as contemporary galleries go, Philly leads the way with Space 1026, Vox Populi, The Fabric Workshop, The Black Floor Gallery and The Fleischer Challenge.


PM: What do you do now for work?

TK: I work at the Conservation Center for Art and Historic Artifacts, as part of a highly skilled team dedicated to preserving our nations cultural heritage. Ironically, for the Benjamin Franklin Tricentennial, we repaired original documents pertaining to this nation’s Constitution while the current administration was busy shredding the present incarnation of the Constitution.


PM: How did your academic background (in anthropology) affect the way you approach your art?

TK: My academic background grounded me in the history of art. Through my training, I began to realize I was participating in a tradition that reached back at least 40,000 years.


PM: How do you feel changes in your life affect the way you approach art?

TK: The vicissitudes of life are the core of my narrative. Early on, my work reflected myself, and to a lesser extent, those that surrounded me. The violence of those early years was lovingly rendered in oil paint and gouache.
Later, I worked in watercolors and oils, hoping to solidify the transient world.


PM: Who are other artists you admire and why?

TK: Egon Schiele, for his deft brushwork and understanding of the human psyche. Neo Rauche's transcending use of space and composition. Anne Britt for her strength, integrity, and perseverance.


PM: Do you feel that the current artistic atmosphere fosters new talent? Or are there set trends that tend to get more attention than others?

TK: The current atmosphere is more permissible to new talent than any other time in history. The other side of the same coin is that the perseverance is steeper than ever before.

There are trends, especially amongst those that are young and submitting their work digitally. On one hand, I never had these avenues to peruse. Lowbrow vs. highbrow was something only talked about in the underground magazines like "ZAP.” Now, kids grow up in a world were Juxtapoz magazine is a major corporate contender.


PM: How difficult is it to pursue a career in art? What are some of the challenges and the payoffs?

TK: How difficult is it, coming from a Southern upbringing? Where I grew up, if you were to announce to the town that you were an artist, it was the same as announcing that you were an idiot. This logic has insured that throughout the 20th Century, all the great artists from the South have had to leave.

The payoffs, for myself, are purely those of prestige. The idea of my work living outside myself, and beyond myself, is fascinating and driving.


PM: Where do you see this going for you?  

TK: PLEASE FOLLOW ME FORWARD!