by Maria Rios

Armed with only the impression of his name and a composition book, I awaited the arrival of Thor, local artist and session drummer, to join me in conversation at Ruta Maya, a site always so opulently atmospheric and a perfect place to discuss the challenges of being a working artist in a town dichotomized, according to some, by the effects of its artistic productivity.

Fortunately he was running a bit late, giving me time to contemplate the name he chose for himself and how it could possibly tie in to the execution of his paintings. The concept of Thor, a thunderbolt wielding, Norse warrior God, patron of peasants and laborers, hammering away with the working class of Austin visual artists tweaked my interest in the samplings of his work that are scattered among the nails on the walls of Ruta Maya. Two of them are imitations, studies of 19th century book illustrator Gustave Dore's engravings of Dante's "Inferno," while the others are indicative of his personal style that he describes as "watery and liquidy" melting figures. These biomorphic figures, shocking in a way more subtle than he would agree with, call to mind a cross between Kenny Scharf's conscience and Peter Saul's sense of humor, only Thor's rebellious vision is executed on a smaller, more personal scale, resulting from the modest dimensions of the works he creates.

Yet before I could muster another comparison or scribble any more notes in my notebook, he appeared, tousled by his hasty bike ride and apologetic. We found a table toward the back of the coffeehouse, closest to his works, and after he had a chance to catch his breath, the conversation began.

We glossed over the paintings, and I asked him about the paintings' size. Given the personal and sometimes angry subject matter and his taste for the extreme, as in the case of "The Most Powerful Hand" that conjoins religious and sexual innuendo, I felt that producing either minutia or murals could more effectively highlight his skills. He responded practically by saying that he would like to work larger, yet time, given all that he does, would not allow it. His professional responsibilities extend from teaching a high school art class to sculpting wood and stone and being actively involved in the Austin music scene. His response was a welcome reality check familiar to all who choose to live by their expression.

So we moved on to the challenges of what it means to be a multidisciplinary artist. I was surprised to discover that painting is therapeutic to him, an escape from the lag time between gigs and in case "you become sour with the music industry and the whole hype that comes along with promoting a band or an ensemble. It can really be a lifesaver to be able to retreat into the solitude of something like oil painting where you're not immediately criticized or rejected by some audience," he said.

At that moment bitterness waved its tiny red flag, which he explained later by relating the reason for his disillusionment with the music industry. "In 1991 members of a band I played in got consumed by the industry. Before then we were four guys making the music we wanted to make, then the industry steered it in a direction that led to its demise. I became depressed and moved to San Francisco for a while and became infinitely more mentally ill and decided I wanted nothing to do with the music business anymore. I began oil painting all the time. I was so depressed I couldn't relate or deal with people at all, so I didn't play music for about a year. During that hibernation, I developed that style of watery, liquidy sort of figures."

"So," he continued, "I have to recommend to any musicians out there to cultivate your interest in other art forms. Music is such a flighty business; it's good to do things completely unrelated."

The conversation spiraled on between the realms of music and painting. Having had a classical background, Thor's drumming has transformed over the years to suit the needs of the bands he chose to play for and has settled stylistically on the power and strength of drummers such as Bonham and Groll. Of his playing style he says, "I play music a lot like my paintings; I strive for technical proficiency. I try to beat my audience over the head a little bit. Rather that using subtlety, I tend to go through extremes." At that point "Fucking Betrayal," with its depiction of a bloated, fat, fairy-like figure being impaled by the pitchfork of a menacingly playful demon, jumped to the forefront of my inquiries.

"The big fat angel?" he asked after my embarrassing and multiple attempts to identify the work to him from where I was sitting. "That is more about color and the whole motion of it. It's more expressive to me and less technical. It's about a guy that fired me from his band and hired all new players, and I'm just the stupid fat angel on the pitchfork. As it turned out the deal went sour and it was a blessing that I got fired, but at the time he had been a real dear friend of mine for a long time."

Of his paintings, however, he admits that he is most influenced by Bosch, Dali and Dr. Seuss. "The obvious thing to say about my work is that it's fairly impossible to ignore. Whether it's likeable or unlikable, it's not at all unremarkable." I vehemently agreed with him. At least twice during our conversation, one of his studies of Dore received constant and careful attention from otherwise distracted coffee drinkers.

I asked, "In terms of art, what is your bone to pick, if you have one?"

"If I had a bone to pick, it would be with whoever is phasing art and the arts out of the education system in the United States. We grow up thinking that the arts are not an important thing to us. I don't think that's true. I think the arts are important to America. Art is in places where we don't expect to look. America is full of Art: South Park, the Simpsons, Howard Stern, Andy Kauffman is high art in a different disguise than in classical oil paintings. If I had a bone to pick, I'd like for the educational system to help keep people aware of what art is and where it comes from and where it's been. America treats art like a red-headed stepchild in the educational system, but I think that each individual has a lot of power over how much America acknowledges the importance of art in our culture."

With that and my silence we both agreed to being manipulated somehow by the larger world defined by the other's ideology. To compensate, I asked what advice he gives his students if they show any desire to be artists.

"I try to tell my students what I learned in my early twenties. It's really pretty easy to earn a living. Be responsible and make a living somehow, but don't be so terrified that you're going to end up on the streets. I try to have them get over that fear. All it takes to not end up on the streets is common sense, which is what most of them have anyway. I spend some time trying to convince them that if they want to be an artist then that's okay and that they don't need something to fall back on. It's a piss-poor approach to go into something already thinking that you're going to fall back."

After a while the conversation became relaxed and more indulgent in that we spent some time comparing notes on our philosophies of art. I discovered that he is a disciplined artist and his work ethic produces works that are frank and personal, yet they leave out the propagandistic quality of complaint. Despite his disjunctive display of humor, metaphor and profane imagery, his work reveals a certain elusive vulnerability that seeps through the shock value he emphasizes. But I'll leave that for the spectator to decide.

I never did ask him why he calls himself Thor and how this plays into his work. By the end of the conversation it seemed moot to do so. I think the answers reside in his artistic efforts and, interestingly enough, in the confident yet humble way he describes his motivations, inspiration and their results. But again, I'll leave that to the spectator to decide.

His work will be featured this March at both the Electric Lounge and DiverseArts Little Gallery. Call DiverseArts at 477-9438 for more details.