Michael Berryhill

Michael Berryhill‘s paintings exude vibes of the surreal yet stoic variety. The unnerving echo of a pulse seems to beat under each still life. Mostly, we are presented with inexplicable assemblages of inanimate objects: some real, some abstract. The human consciousness at their core is hidden from view, but easily perceived. A book pretends it is just a book, a form does its best to appear form-ish– but we know better.

Gay Pride Moustache, 2008

The objects Berryhill represents aren’t just visually pleasing, they’re relatable. You find yourself identifying with a draped piece of fabric, a blue polyhedron floating in pink mist. Though static, they manage to convey some element of the artist’s personality that’s just immediately likable. These paintings prove that anthropomorphism isn’t a quality reserved for talking animals and furniture with faces, it can be achieved subtly, graciously.

Harry Dean Stand-In, 2008

There’s something positively De Chirico-esque at work. Berryhill manages to activate that same epic feeling of gazing out into the courtyard of your subconscious, but instead of marble columns and Classical statuary we’re given guitar necks and long-haired doodz staring intently at lord knows what.

These are the beautifully distorted tableaus you take for granted in your deepest dreams, where you’re running late for band practice and you suddenly realize you’ve never played an instrument in your life and that dead pet bird you had when you were 12 is now alive again, but also on fire. Here, in the waking world, Berryhill has entrusted us with the time and opportunity to take in their aesthetic merits without all of those distractions. You’re welcome.

Stair Guitar, 2009

Crymaster, 2008

Book of Tennis, 2009

C. McCarthyism, 2009

Shiptrick, 2009

Additionally, Michael Berryhill sometimes plays music with Austin, TX band Diagonals. He recently collaborated with the band on a book-and-album combo pack, printed beautifully by Monofonus Press. Check out this cute video for Diagonals’ catchy song about a dude who falls in love with himself, “Clones.” Keep your eyes open for the legendary Wiley Wiggins on keytar.