Arte de Timo

Arte de Timo is an odd title, but maybe not in the way you think. . The lose translation is “Art of Timo,” or Timo’s Art, but there is a grammatical mistake that reveals a twist of words. In Spain, “timo” translates to “fake,” so the hidden meaning of arte de timo is “fake art”.

So, Welcome to Timo’s Art or as revealed, Fake Art. This website presents a range of writings and artworks by Timo McIntosh that explore his observations of the middle class, political center, and suburban landscapes where he lives. The website asks the question; can authenticity grow from art whose subject is fake?

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MLK, OBL, and a piece called “Night and Dark”

January 16th, 2012 > 0


I painting this diptic over ten years ago when I was just out of undergrad. I had had a hidden life as an oil painter during my science studies, and these were two of the only four I completed after school. Eventually, I got around to showing these as a grad student in a show called “Scholarship Denied” with a few of my graduate school friends. The title of the show is a long story, but it was an excuse to show these old works. I ended up writing a companion text to go along with the paintings. It had never occurred to me to write anything before the show, but I realized that I needed to write this in order to finish the work. Here is that text:

When you come to the realization that everything you have done in your life, and seemingly everything that you will ever do, has only contributed to the world’s suffering and deterioration, how will you choose to live out the rest of your life?

Atonement?

Reclusion?

Delusion?

Western society, includina an increasingly globalized East, is entering an era where we will collectively and individually be forced to answer this question. The last several decades have provided us a resource surplus that has let us live in a delusional state. Our delussions have obscured the approaching dark age that will be caused by the mutually amplifying factors of resource exploitation and over population. While in this state of delusion, our societies have dissolved any sense of forward-thought, or inter-generational planning. We have maintained an antiquated and ineffective infrastructure, shed tranditions of stewardship, and unlearned our writen history.

Seeing what is, and what will be may let us predict our fate, but in each passing night, an impending darkness increasingly envelops us.

The paintings and writing pose a question about which path to travel when the light fails. The paintings were made just prior to September 11, 2001, and the writing after. I now find it eery how this question has played itself out in so many other ways since I painted them.

On September 11, OBL, in his view, struck back at an empire who had its dirty hands all over the Middle East, and one that was all too complacent in its wealth and entertainment. He gave us a choice about the future we would make for ourselves in the face of our own vulnerability. We had a choice between a reeling darkness, or one of a painful, yet passing night. Our country’s extreme ignorance of our own involvement in the Arab world, coupled with an over-confidence in our vengeful strength, made us choose a violent darkness, which still over-shadows us now.

On this day, we celebrate another visionary, MLK, who gave us another choice over 40 years ago to move out of darkness and through a passing night. I wonder about the paths we have traveled since I painted “Dark and Night.” As we lashed out at the world after September 11, 2001, we turned on ourselves, eroding our civil liberties, relinquishing parts of our democracy, and turning over immense executive power to the president. As we sought to battle this shadowy “evil” in the world, we stepped into the darkness our selves. Once there, it spread over us.

Ten years later, the middle east has moved closer to democracy, and we have moved further away from it. We have witnessed the rise of anger as our unifying thread in this country. This anger has manifest itself on the political right, as the Tea party, and the political left as the Occupy movement. In the waning years of the Lost Decade we have seen protests on our streets that haven’t been as large since the days of MLK. But those protests have not been about a rise out of racist darkness, though. Ironically, they have been about just stopping the free fall into the darkness of oppression and fear.

From Wisconsin to Tar Sands, to Occupy, these protests have been about stopping a further slide toward domination and exploitation. Where the civil rights movements were about the advancement of people, and progressive ideals, our protests have been about anger over lost control.

MLK had a dream that we would all be treated equally, and live with dignity and respect. It seems, sadly, that we chased after the first by giving up the later. Finally, ending up with neither. Yes, we, US Americans, are all equal in some ways. We are all equal under an increasingly less democratic and more authoritarian state. We are all on the verge of losing our homes, our livelihoods, and our public safety net. We are all equally threatened by pollution, global warming and natural disasters. We all can equally expect to live less healthy and shorter lives. We have become the huddled masses that we called out for all those 200 years ago, except we aren’t huddled now. We are angry, resentful, overstimulated, distracted, consumers who are moving too fast to know we are in the dark.

The last decade has shown us that we do indeed sink together. When a night was all that approached, we chose a fire in the darkness. It has shown us that we aren’t individuals enough to avoid our collective fate. (Unless, of course, we have become uber-rich, but that may just be an illusion in the end.) In ten years, we have become a mass of small chirping creatures in the shadows, fighting over scraps.

We need to close our eyes to feel a dawn, but when we choose to build a fire, a twilight always burns.

And on that note, have a great holiday.

A lost craft work from my childhood

December 20th, 2011 > 0

I found this Thor Hammer Mug in a box of toys I had been keeping from my childhood. It is the first ceramic piece I ever made and had fired. I remember making it at age 12 during a summer art camp. I was in to Thor comics, so between my seventh and eighth grades this is what I made. The under-glazes were mislabeled in the studio, so the colors didn’t turn out how I wanted. I think this is the only piece from anyone at the camp that didn’t explode during firing.

That was a great summer being a crazy kid. The summer art camp was held each morning at Mission College, which at the time was surrounded by open fields, and was just one big building. I was in the camp with four of my school buddies, and we were at the very upper age limit for the camp. We got bored pretty easily (Something that at this age happened a lot). By the end of the summer we had to be escorted out of the building by the instructor after each class, because we were causing so much trouble.

We had a habit of taking clay with us from the studio for our mischief. We would shape the clay into what we thought were funny shapes, then fling off the upper stories of the building watching the splat down in the atrium somewhere. Some college students had the pleasure of seeing a clay Mr. Bill explode on the ground next to them as they walked to class. That was when security was called on us and discussions were held. We relished the infamy.

We had a lot of fun. I remember the face painting lesson became war paint day for us. Can you imagine four young boys with war paint running around? I am sure there were some confused people walking through campus those days. Mostly we went out to the fields around the college to “hunt” rabbits. We had created spears, carried rocks, and made traps, but mostly we just ran around like crazy kids trying to scare the wildlife (and any passers-by). We also got the police called on us a few times by poor old pedestrians who thought we were hunting them. Ah, the memories.

Amazing what an old mug can stir up.

The view from the back

December 11th, 2011 > 0


Here’s the view from the bike trailer. My son carries around a little camera and comes up with some interesting views of the world. I think I might turn them into a book.

Timo Lantern

October 22nd, 2011 > 0

In preparation for Halloween; The Timo’Lantern!

2011, a yearly post.

May 23rd, 2011 > 0

Art of Timo; the title of my site, has evolved to mean a great many things in the years. I am now in the home stretch of earning my MFA from SJSU, so this thing “art” has finally become an official qualification in my work. I am an artist and I make art. And I finally feel empowered by that discretion; it’s ambiguity and lack of concrete description means something important to me now after these years of study.

The MFA itself isn’t what makes me feel like I can employ the word now. It is the discourse I became involved with in order to earn my MFA that gives “art” weight. There are meaningful ways in which to indulge in the creative process, and that is what I  lingering on in art. Objects are gone. Process is gone. Studios are gone. What we can have is an endeavor to create meaningful indulgence.

We seem to need art as creatures, and that is intriguing.  We inevitably treat it as a commodity to gobble up, or a resource to manipulate and control, but there is something under all that, which plugs in to how we understand ourselves. Art can become the cleanest and best description of those inaccessible parts of who we are.

As I finish this degree, I have a new basis from which to work. In my personal life, too, I have found a very deep strength that challenges me to perceive life in new ways. I am in a new place now, and this website will soon reflect that. Over the course of the summer I will be putting something together to replace all of this, so take a note to check back in September. It will be good.