Today we’d like to introduce you to John Gummere.
Hi John, we’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
When I was growing up, I always thought of myself as an artist; I drew and painted pretty much nonstop. My mom was well known around town (Trenton, NJ) as a portrait painter so art was always part of family life, although I was the only kid who actually pursued it professionally. I accepted my mother’s encouragement to apply for college as an architecture major, and graduated from Columbia University with a BA in Architecture in 1977; but by the time I graduated, I knew that my heart was in fine arts rather than architecture. Fortunately for me, my program was in was not tightly focused on the “nuts and bolts” of architecture, and allowed for a broader education. I’m still interested in architecture, minus the professional focus. I took art classes both at Columbia and part-time at Mercer County Community College outside Trenton, where I studied with Trenton’s nationally-known painter Mel Leipzig (d. 2025) and others. I continued to paint while working in various graphics and teaching jobs, I moved to Philadelphia in 1979 and remained there for decades. With the whole-hearted and invaluable support of my first wife, I eventually returned to school as a painting major in the Four-Year Certificate Program at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts (PAFA), where I graduated in 1996. Since that time, I’ve built up my career as a painter while continuing with graphics work and some teaching. In 2016 my second wife and I moved to Morrisville, Bucks County, PA. I am actively engaged with the lively arts scene across the bridge in Trenton. I exhibit regularly at Artworks Trenton and the Trenton City Museum at Ellarslie, as well as the Euphemia Gallery in Spring Lake, NJ; Connexions Gallery in Easton, PA; the Roebling Gallery in Trenton; and in juried shows around the country.
Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
Definitely not smooth. At first, I majored in architecture in the belief that it was an art-adjacent field where I could make a living and possibly work on projects that have a positive social impact. So awareness of the struggles was part of what drove that decision. As I said previously though, my passion was in fine arts. In my early years it was also not easy to make a living in graphics work, either before or after attending PAFA. In recent years, circumstances have shifted for the better. I’m well recognized in the local art community, and my paintings have become a bigger piece of the pie in my income.
Appreciate you sharing that. What else should we know about what you do?
I’m a representational painter, and from an early age I’ve had an interest in urban landscapes. In a sense, that’s in tune with my interest in architecture, as are interior compositions. In both, I’m intrigued by shapes in the built environment, including the shapes of lights and shadows. I look for interesting patterns and shapes that “rhyme” or (more interestingly) “half-rhyme.” These are often happy accidents that the architect never thought of, but I use them as building blocks of composition. I employ a good bit of artistic license: I may invent objects, or subtract them, or move them — for the benefit of a composition. I don’t approach paintings as “renderings,” except in that I want the space to make sense and feel right in perspective. With some notable exceptions, I often paint buildings that are not “architectural statements” in themselves. I’ve always believed that nondescript buildings can become great subjects for paintings. People often think “Hopper” when they see my work, and I can’t deny the influence. My other favorites include Vermeer and contemporaries: I’ve always liked their way of working with layers of space. Although my work is representational, a lot of abstract work “speaks to me.” In particular, I love what Mark Rothko did with light and color: sometimes when I paint windows on a building, Rothko is in the back of my mind. In recent years I’ve shifted some of my focus to non-urban landscapes, especially water scenes. Whatever I paint, I often make a point of including either human or animal figures. I sometimes avoid painting people in a manner that reads as a portrait of a particular person, but I like to show a sign of life: an animal, or a vague, nonspecific person. I know of some paintings where Van Gogh included a chair as a stand-in for a person. I frequently do something similar, where a hanging overcoat, a dress form, or another object may suggest a human presence without literally being a person.
While my focus is on painting, illustration is also an important part of my background. I embarked on the track that eventually took me to PAFA because I was interested in developing my skill as an illustrator. Currently, some of my paintings cross over a bit into the world of illustration — not necessarily for publication, but with the sensibility of telling a story or communicating an idea.
What was your favorite childhood memory?
There are many, but a couple come to mind now in light of recent paintings. I just painted a piece that grew out of a memory that must have been from about 1959, when I was four years old. I remember once at bedtime seeing a light blue, plastic garment bag hanging on a door. Somehow that struck me as really beautiful, almost magical in the light. It made such an impression that I actually asked my sister to reproduce it by hanging the blue garment bag there another night. A bit weird, perhaps — but I see now that it may have been an early sign that I had the sensibility of an artist. I’ve been told that, as an artist, I have a “different” way of looking at things, both visually and regarding life in general. I developed that painting with a combination of images from that time in my life. Another “early memory” painting, titled “Snake at 812”— less a favorite memory than a vivid one: One morning I returned home from an errand with my father. As I was walking up our front path, a (likely harmless) snake frightened me. I screamed and of course my father picked me up and carried me inside. My early memories of our house at 812 Riverside Avenue in Trenton include a lot of wildlife: we often had snakes, rabbits, and toads in our yard. As I grew older the animals seemed to disappear, likely due to the replacement of the canal near our house with the newly completed NJ Route 29. It feels significant now because it seems to relate to habitat loss, now happening worldwide at an alarming rate.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://StudioJohnGummere.com
- Instagram: @johndgummere
