Jason Ainsworth

“A kid walks into the woods with a man and the kid starts crying. The man looks over to the kid and says ‘what are you crying about? I’m the one who’s gotta walk out of here by myself.’”

Don’t let the anecdote Jason Ainsworth started the interview off with mislead you, he probably isn’t a homicidal maniac. True, he kind of acts how you think one would. And okay, his apartment looks like something out of the movie Seven and you’re far more likely to come across a felt lined box of razor blades than you are a clean glass. But to paraphrase Wednesday Addams, homicidal maniacs look just like everyone else. So by that logic, we’re probably safe.

Ainsworth is a painter though and he paints like someone who at least contemplated torturing animals when he was young. Playful and childlike at times, his paintings look like the end result of a psychologist asking a troubled kid from bible school to paint what’s on his mind. There’s no kitsch or pretentiousness with his work. His paintings are sentimental and touching minus the irony. The right mixture of the gallery scene you’re intimidated by and the art school shows you can’t stand.

If you can fight your way through the all paintings that block the entranceway into Ainsworth’s apartment, you’ll see that bedroom is the studio where he works and the futon mattress on the floor of the living room means it doubles as the bedroom. It’s immediately evident that the mattress doesn’t get slept on much and most nights are spent painting. Also evident is, that aside from being talented, Ainsworth is clever, eccentric and shy, traits that might lead one to mistake him for being one of those “difficult artists.” He dodges questions, lies about his height and doesn’t really feel comfortable chatting until he knocks back a few drinks. Three beers later Ainsworth explains that he hates graffiti, neat paintings, Salvador Dali, left leaning politicos, skateboarding and the thought of teenagers having sex.

After beer four and a little prodding he admits what you might have suspected. He’s the type of artist where every creation is a battle with the canvas. “I don’t punch it or anything but I do sometimes cry. I’ve been in tears over paintings.” A little known fact is that he frequently ends up painting over a lot of his work: equal parts him being unhappy with the work as well as broke. Some of his paintings have upwards of three other paintings underneath them. How’s that for value?

Halfway through beer five, common themes in his work comes up and Ainsworth claims, “I just do religious paintings and sentimental paintings and equestrian portraits.” He also claims he has no influences. Curiously, there are a large amount of dog-eared art books scattered throughout the apartment. The names Chagall, Ingres and Rousseau stand out in particular. There are also two copies of the Bible, a children’s story Bible and a copy of the Koran on the coffee table which might explain the recurring biblical themes in his work. “Well no one else is really doing it and besides, where else am I supposed to steal ideas from,” he jokes.

Asked if there’s a passage he finds particularly inspiring, Ainsworth replies, “Well [in the Koran] they tell you, at the end of the road you get to go up into paradise and be surrounded by women with pert breasts that have been untouched my man or djinni.” Ironically, the evening prior to the interview, a gaggle of females with breasts that had probably been touched by several men named Gene were overheard conspiring to call Ainsworth and see if he was up for partying into the wee hours of the morning. Not only was it Sunday but the activities they were planning didn’t sound particularly pious. When called on it he says, “Well that’s why I like to do religious paintings. Just in case, you know?”