Artist Feature: Travis Johnson

by Bahi’chi Castañeda

Travis Johnson is a Black, 41-year-old creative, storyteller, and artist currently based in Olympia, WA. Over the last three decades, he has honed his skill as a painter, sculptor, singer, poet, and textile artist, channeling the past and exploring themes of transgenerational trauma, memory, and reality. 

Tell me a little bit about yourself. What does it mean to be Travis Johnson? 

It’s funny because right now, at this stage in my life, I feel like everything played a significant part in me being here and doing the work that I’m doing. 

I was born and raised in Southern California and I wasn’t raised with a television in my home, but I was raised with a bunch of illustrated books and a bunch of audio recordings. I think it really started me on the path of understanding story and understanding images. I think back to one of the first images that captivated me; it was an encyclopedia, I think it was a Charlie Brown comic that they were kind of deconstructing to show how you make comics. It was right up on a page, maybe ten different pictures, and I would look at those pictures and try to understand how to make comics myself. It started with comics and cartoons; that was a really, really big thing for me. That just captivated me. That, I feel like, was the beginning. That was kind of the infancy stage, of just seeing lines and seeing images and seeing this medium of just black-and-white. It was just so powerful and magical to me. 

My first program at Evergreen emphasized understanding story, and that was really transformative for me — seeing a class like that, one that was so relevant to where we are. It was about finding a pathway to use social entrepreneurship and business to affect the community which was already something that I was doing, I just didn’t have a label for it. My studies have continued down this path of understanding story and understanding how visual image works with text, how visual image works by itself to tell stories, and understanding the power of story. It was this realization that narrative is something that is a huge part of everybody’s life — how we buy, how we vote, how we hurt people, how we don’t hurt people, how we live. Everything is based on story. 

I was really struck by your question within a question, like, “What does it mean to be Travis?” That was really powerful. I say this very openly, because I believe it’s important: as a 300lb Black man in America — and that size matters, because if you’re a small Black man, you’re not a threat, but when you’re big, that’s when they bring back-up and tasers and kill you — to be 41-years-old and still be alive, to still be here creating… I believe what it means to “be Travis” is to have been; to have been harassed by the police, to have been pulled over unnecessarily, to have been face-to-face with skinheads ready to do harm to you at 13-years-old, to have been homeless, to have been without, to have been rejected, to have been fetishized… There’s these pre-narratives that people have with Black people, many times you’re a character to them. They show up and you have interactions with them that are so odd and so inappropriate and cross so many boundaries, and it’s because the narrative of your existence is so narrow. What it means to “be Travis” is to endure all of that and find a way to still have joy. 

Could you talk about the different kinds of art you make and how you got involved with each of them? 

About four years ago — I had done painting before — but I just really got this bug to paint and wanted to put my flag in the ground as a painter. I started sitting with these canvasses and trying to understand acrylic, understanding where you could take it and how you could tell a story. It’s grown to where now, the kind of mode that I’m in is acrylic, spray paint, oil, and watercolor all mixed. I’m experimenting, trying to push it and just kind of see what happens. Like, what if? What if? is a big part of my process. What if you don’t clean your brush? What if you don’t let the paint dry, and you blend it while it’s wet? What if you let it sit for a year and then come back to it? What if you literally throw the paint at the canvas and work it from there? 

Sculpture is something that I had thought about for many years. I had a vision in my mind of what I wanted to do, of pieces I was interested in creating, of objects I was interested in working with. It’s only recently that I got the materials and had the space to express that. The wood and stone had sat in my garage for about a year, and I had this vision of chopping them up and reconfiguring them into something, sort of putting them back together. I still have several sculptures in my mind that I haven’t done anything with yet. A lot of times I’m waiting to have space, I’m waiting for materials — I like found materials, I like stuff that can be repurposed and recycled, so I collect a lot of objects. I’m going to do more of the sculptures, and I see a lot of room to express myself with sculpture. 

I have been doing textiles for years, but have never done it with this kind of focus. I would just do it for myself — I’d have a jacket or a shirt, and I’d dye it or I’d have shoes, and I’d spray paint and distress them. I got inspired and just started playing with textile more, I liked the colors that were coming out. It reminds me of when I was introduced to tie-dye in the 80s — though I’m not really doing a traditional tie-dye, I’m doing a hand dip and then twist… It’s really more like my paintings, the sort of process that I use. It’s very organic for me, I really follow my body and my heart and whatever I’m inspired to do.

On your Instagram (@travisjohnsonstudios), you describe yourself as a “#creative #storyteller #artist”, can you talk about what that means to you? 

Some people will look at the paintings, and I think it’s easy to say, “Oh, he’s a painter.” But I also toured doing music for thirty-something years, and a lot of the people who saw me doing music didn’t know I painted. There’s people that will see me do textiles, and all they know is the textiles, and they’ll go, “Oh, you do clothes.” Yeah, I do! And then some people will see the sculpture, and they’ll go, “Oh, you’re a sculptor.” Yeah, I am! “Creative” was a good umbrella to put all of that under.

I love painting, I love sculpture, I love singing, I love poetry, and I don’t care if somebody defines me as “just” one of those, but I do so many other things and for me, they all feel the same. I’m trying to use words like I use paint pigments, I’m trying to put them together in a way that says something. In song, I’m trying to use melody and words and tone together. In sculpture, I’m trying to use physical objects together. They feed different things, but I approach them in the same way; I’m creating, so I’m a creative. 

What do you aim to communicate through your art? 

I’ve been doing a lot of work around transgenerational trauma, transgenerational memory, and transgenerational reality. I believe I’m channeling the past, and that the ancestors are coming through. So when I sit down and paint, I’m letting whatever from the past that needs to come through, come through — and I don’t always know what it is. I don’t try to guess what it is and communicate at all, I just try and continue to show up. I let it be whatever it is to whoever’s consuming it, and let them have their own experience. I know that I love doing art, that I love the art I create, and I believe that people who consume it can decide what it means to them. I don’t really set out trying to communicate anything, I just try to show up to the canvas, to the sculpture, to the material and do the work of creating. 

Family and community is really important to you. How do you think that shows up in your art or your artistic process at all?

I believe that we’re all connected and I believe that we’re all radiating energy out around us as we walk around in the world. When we’re welcoming, people can feel that. And when we’re not welcoming, people can feel that, too. It all moves us in different ways, and for me, it’s important to consider those around me. A huge part of behind the scenes of what I do is that many times, I use the money I make off of art to help people in crisis. That’s been a huge part of what I do, and I really focus on Black women. People in need are a part of the community, and if there’s something I have to offer or something I’ve learned in life and can give, I try to be available for that. Because we’re all connected, if one person is affected by something, we’re all affected by it. It’s important to keep that in mind: we’re not in this alone, and what we do in the world does affect other people. 

Any words of wisdom for fellow artists that you’d like to share? 

To other artists, I’d say: stay in your body, follow your heart, and keep showing up. 

You can check out more of Travis Johnson’s work at https://travisjohnsonart.squarespace.com/ or @travisjohnsonstudios on Instagram. You can also check out his exhibit Futures Rising at SPSCC.