Art by the Numbers with Gary Gee

Art by the Numbers with Gary Gee

On October 19, the Indianapolis-based multimedia artist joins BAIA to discuss his unique life path

“The process of evolution is… I’m on the right path or I’m in the right place… like the 111, 777, 333, 555… I’m seeing the numbers all the time.” 

With unblinking eyes and a casual yet earnest delivery, the gravelly-voiced Gary Gee acknowledges the numerological affirmation of his current artistic trajectory. “So now I’m like, man, let me start paying attention.”

Gee’s more recent attention to numbers, and the details of his own career path, has paid off. Six years ago, while promoting his painting and illustrations, the Indianapolis-based multimedia artist was offered a solo exhibit by the Indy Arts Council, central Indiana’s leading arts advocacy agency. “So I got this mapped out in my head, I’m gonna draw this, I’m gonna paint this. And they were like, ‘no, we want all 3D work from you. We like your ceramics.” Stunned, particularly because he was a working artist in his late 40s, a parent, and had just received his third collegiate degree—two associate degrees from Ivy Tech Community College and a Bachelor of Fine Art from Herron School of Art and Design—Gee felt ceramics “was just something I did at school. I had a few pieces, but it wasn’t my lane.”

“But as time went on, no matter what show I got, the ceramic work kept getting me in,” explains Gee, whose Hip Hop-influenced ceramics subsequently gained him entry into the nationally renowned BUTTER Fine Art Fair in Indianapolis. There, it caught the attention of Black Art In America (BAIA) founder and CEO, Najee Dorsey, who now represents his work. “He said, ‘man, that’s unique, nobody’s doing that,” Gee recalled, noting the message “finally got ingrained in my mind. You know, if God is showing you a door, you’ve gotta walk through it.”

Gee has done that and others have taken notice. Recent recognition includes a Beckmann Emerging Artist Fellowship from the Indy Arts Council; an Ivy Tech Alumni of the Year award; exhibitions at the Indiana Museum of Art at Newfields, the Harrison Art Center, and the University of Wisconsin;  and his curation of “Hip Hop Anthology Vol. 4” at the Indianapolis Central Library. 

"Keep Your Eyes On The Prize" by Gary Gee

“The one thing that comes to mind for me with Gary is how authentic his work is to who he is,” says Dorsey, acknowledging how its unique nature will expand the “diversity of works offered by BAIA to our collector base. I’m always looking to go where everybody’s not while finding the niche areas in the market that naturally fit the artist and expanding upon that.” Dorsey speaks to how there is currently “a void” in the market with “more people doing 2D work than sculpture, so I’m always looking for where the gaps are because within those gaps is where opportunity lies. That’s one reason why I pushed for Gary to really explore the ceramics medium as it’s based on necessity or a need for what’s not in the market right now, and that’s going to give his voice a chance to stand out in the crowd.”

On October 19, Gee’s voice will stand out as he joins Dorsey at BAIA to give an artist talk along with fellow artist Stephanie Brown. Among the topics, Gee will discuss his current focus on ceramics and his incorporation of a Hip Hop ethic within his production of signature hand cast stoneware skulls bearing lustered crowns, colorful tags, ancient symbols, numerological references, and subliminal messaging, some with half-smoked cigars cornering gold-grilled scowls. 

For Gee, this ethic has long been a natural expression of his art. 

“Throughout my life, Hip Hop has been like the soundtrack, the backdrop, you know, the music,” acknowledges Gee, who came of age during Hip Hop’s “Golden Era” of the 1980s. “It was new, it was fresh” with “Run-DMC popping, the Fat Boys, the Fresh Fest tours comin’ to town, so now I’m getting to see these people in person.” The impact was seismic, “like the city was calling me. In my mind, I was seeing this city, and it was like the music was giving me a whole new world so I started incorporating that into the mix of the cartoons and the comic books and it all just started flowing together.”

Later, upon a short military stint in the early ‘90s, Gee suffered a knee injury during a training exercise a year and a half into a three-year tour. “I didn’t get surgery and they kept telling me there was nothing wrong,” he recalls, but “ten years later, I found out my kneecap had been dislocated the whole time. So I had to wear a permanent brace, and I went through some stuff.”

Along the way, these troubles included a three-year stint in prison at the turn of the century for selling drugs. “When I was disabled, I couldn’t really hold down jobs,” says Gee. “I was just out there hustling, but knew that it wasn’t where I was supposed to be in life. So when I got caught up, I kinda looked at it like everything happens for a reason.” By going away, and being isolated, “my thought process started changing, and I was like ‘now let me get back to who I’m really supposed to be.” The grateful 35 year-old left his legal troubles behind in 2005 and “I knew, for my son’s sake and even my mom and my sisters, I couldn’t go back out there and do what I was doing or I was really gonna be in trouble. So I got back in school and started writing artist statements saying who I was going to be.” 

Once in college, given he had grown up drawing, reading comic books, and watching Good Times, Gee was asked by a teacher if he had any artistic influences or role models. Along with some familial influences, Stan Lee comic books, and Jack Kirby album covers, Gee included, “JJ Evans from Good Times.” The instructor promptly informed him that the character JJ was not the actual artist behind the paintings he saw on the popular sitcom. “So I said, ‘well, who did?’ And he said, ‘I don’t know but, before the next class, you’re gonna find out.” Gee soon learned of and studied additional works by the legendary Ernie Barnes and other artists as well.

His mother had always insisted he stay in school. “Literally, when I got those degrees, more doors started opening,” remembers Gee, noting his mom “knew what she was talking about even when I didn’t.” That said, “I felt like I had the talent and, if I had the drive, I could put in the work, find my lane, and pursue this.”

He did. After finding a manager who believed in the artist he already was, Gee started showing his work while trying a few artistic things “outside the norm. My confidence started growing and I was just like, ‘man, let me bet on me.” Instead of continuing to work 10 to 12-hour days doing odd jobs for others, he became a teaching artist with Arts for Learning, a leading arts education program provider for youth, and an adjunct art professor at Ivy Tech. Simultaneously, Gee poured his time and passion into his own art which would increase his stock as people gave “more attention to Black artists in 2020. With George Floyd, I did this mural for racial justice where I produced 11 panels over the course of eight days.” His work was well received, and several pieces were ultimately obtained by the Indiana State Museum. Gee further produced street murals with progressive messaging; created works for the Children’s Museum of Indianapolis and the Indianapolis Museum of Art Galleries at Newfields; joined a popular artist collective; and began travelling out of state to cities like Chicago, Brooklyn, San Francisco, and Philadelphia to exhibit. 

“I’m just working and selling works all the time as I found out you gotta wear a lot of different hats,” acknowledges Gee, who still teaches with Arts for Learning while devoting the majority of his time to the creative and commercial aspects of his chosen craft.

He still sees the numbers as well.

“It’s like you meet different people for different reasons,” promotes Gee, recalling how at certain points along the way, “somebody would start talking about numerology, your birth signs, your numbers, and your life path. And when I’m reading this stuff, I’m like, ‘damn, some of this stuff makes sense” especially given “it was one of those periods in my life where I was going through some shit and the same numbers kept popping up over and over again—111, 222, 333.” 

Gee stresses how he sees 1111 more than any other sequence, and how he learned its implications regarding “spirits and the ancestors. And I’m always talking about the ancestors and feeling like somebody’s with me.” 

“So it’s like, man, you know, it’s bigger than us sometimes.”