A trip into the mirthful macabre...

Mar 22, 2017
10 min read

Dan Holst Soelberg is an artist, a writer, and a graphic designer that has a way with the dark side; he makes it playful. His humorous take on the gothic imagery that he creates is both incredibly intricate and refreshingly original - as you can easily see from his self portrait (left). His books Shadow Abuse, Dwellers of Lurching Swill, Oddities of West Blankshire, and Eight Pound Fly are gorgeously illustrated stories that add humour to the macabre, and his sketches, greeting and post cards, are perfect for anyone that is looking for a Poe that likes to have a laugh. He took some time to talk to the Colony...

What is an early memory of being creative person? Did it start with illustrations?

I drew constantly. It's a typical story for any artist. When I wasn't quite four I made a pencil drawing of my dad from a photo. My mom was impressed with the realistic details and proportion, and pinned it to a wall-mounted cork board in the kitchen. It hung there, yellowing for years, and I remember returning to study it occasionally

so I could figure out how to make it more realistic. That was my goal — to replicate the real world in my artwork. Constantly exploring, I developed a love for experimenting with all media. Eventually I developed a love for artists who created their own techniques and weren't at all interested in realism. These artists wanted to express things like emotion and imagination. I loved the liberating freedom to express on my own terms. It was an irresistible attraction. My interest in illustration came later. I obsessively drew caricatures throughout high school, and I went on to study illustration in college.

Was there a moment when your imagery turned into a story or has there always been a story line that

has tied your pieces together?

The stuff I create on my own is definitely tied together, but I think it's less about story and more about a personal sensibility and self-imposed structure that governs my invented universe. I made rules from the start that certain things are allowed and others are not. For instance, drawing children in my books without mouths is a conscious decision. The period in history that my universe occupies is intentionally vague, since I combine objects and scenes from various periods. It's also important for me that the dark humour must come from absurdity, fear and human vulnerability, and there must be an element of playfulness. I want to celebrate the macabre and invite the reader to affirm and embrace the dark and frightening aspects of life. Mortality is inherently absurd—you must embrace the joys of life along with pain and suffering. You can't pick and choose, weeding out the bad stuff and keeping only the nice things. It's a package deal. My work is about accepting sorrow with the help of humour. I intuitively steer away from creating things that are overtly gory, death-focused or mean-spirited. I try to be more suggestive with these kinds of things. I find subtlety more interesting. My characters rarely suffer mortal consequences. My first book, Oddities of West Blankshire, has 60 characters. Only one of them dies. Well, I suppose two die if you consider dissolving in the bathtub a form of death. Yeah, okay, two then.

One of my favourite ideas that I take away from your work is that even gothic gloom has its own whimsy. Is there a certain thought of what you try to say with your art or does each character come from a different place?

Exactly right! Gothic gloom is inherently whimsical. They are two sides of the same life experience. It goes back to my point of embracing joy along with pain. It's something we all struggle through. We don't want to suffer loss or failure or fear, but we do anyway. My characters all come from this very human place. Sometimes there's a big drama going on, or alternatively, there's nothing going on and we're just left with our own boredom or anxieties. By the way, I'm not demanding that the reader gets all that. But for readers who look for it, they will find a common

thread lurking between the lines, and between the

laughs.

You seem like a very proud family man. Do they inspire anything in your work?

Absolutely. I'm grateful for my family because they change how I live my life. They test my values on a daily basis. Your own child is a mirror that shows who you are without modesty or pretense. It has given me a stronger creative voice. My family inspires ideas because they makes me do things that I wouldn't otherwise do. It's just the reality of parenthood. Life with kids is very different. Why else would I go to a dance academy on a Saturday morning and sit in a waiting room with other groggy strangers while three year olds refuse to dance in the next room? The challenge creatively is that I have less time to devote to personally-driven projects. Pure creativity insists on autonomy, and you just have less time for autonomy as a parent.

I first saw your awesome work at Fan Expo a few years ago and was instantly smitten with what you create. Do you have an Expo/Con that is your favourite? Do you have another place that you enjoy sharing your artwork?

I find my work appeals to a wide and diverse audience, so I'm happy with cons that give me access to the widest possible attendees. I've done the majority of my exhibiting close to my Burlington home. Toronto's Fan Expo and Niagara Falls' Comic Con have been good to me. Bazaar of the Bizarre is a fantastic little Toronto convention that happens a few times annually. I love the Bazaar for its eclectic vendors and the fans it attracts. Then there's Vesuvio Pizzeria & Spaghetti House. I absolutely love Vesuvio. When I was a new artist on the gallery scene, I exhibited art at the Toronto Junction Arts Festival, and Vesuvio was an active participant. My artwork caught the attention of Vesuvio's owner Piera Pugliese, who asked me to exhibit art on the restaurant's walls. Piera loves and supports artists, and uses the restaurant walls to feature and promote art. For years, Piera has been loyal to me and I have been loyal to her. I make a special effort to show new artwork in Vesuvio once a year, and the feedback I get is always overwhelmingly positive. It's been a great relationship. I have a show this year August 7 to September 3. I'm creating original artwork for this show that's very different from what I normally make. I can't wait to reveal it in August.

Your work is so wonderfully gothic. Who are some artists that inspired you when you started out?

Robert Crumb. Crumb isn't at all gothic. I was infatuated with Crumb after watching the Terry Zwigoff documentary. Not only are Crumb's ink drawings mesmerizing, but I was moved by his compulsion to draw. Crumb doesn't just get enjoyment from drawing. Drawing is necessary, as much as breathing and eating. I feel that. I want every drawing I do to be a compulsive act. Maybe that's why I never doodle, because doodling is idle and without purpose. When I write these rhyming couplets and make ink drawings, a fire roars through me that can't be stopped. If I don't put that intensity and energy into a drawing, I don't think it's worth making. I'm also heavily influenced by the work of writer Joseph Campbell. Reading his books on world mythologies opened up to me the universality of stories, with archetypes that repeat around the world. I had (and still have) lofty goals of telling stories about humanity that resonate with everyone, regardless of where they come from. The gothic quality of my work comes from deep within me. If it resonates with you, it's because you have that same deep, dark place.

Who are some artists that you wish more people knew about?

I'll give you one. PBS produced a wonderful documentary called "In the Realms of the Unreal". It was about a janitor named Henry Darger who lived a quiet life in a one-bedroom Chicago apartment. What nobody knew was that he devoted his life in that apartment to creating a world through story and illustrations. He shared this world with nobody. It was only after his death that his life's passion was discovered. I can't recommend this film enough. No matter your opinion about Mr. Darger's work, it is both impressive and commendable to live in complete service to your life's bliss. What better life is there? The movie is free to watch on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sRlvDKcDvsI

Do you put your originals out for purchase? If not why, and if so - are there any you can't part with?

I definitely sell my originals. I would love to sell them all as soon as they're done. I make art so that people can enjoy it. What use is art that I don't share with the world? I think of artwork living in the world in the same way as I think of my children living in the world. I may have made them, but once they're born they have a life of their own. I may have brought them into the world but I don't own them. It doesn't make sense to hold onto them. Holding onto my own artwork is like the archetypal greedy dragon who spends every waking moment guarding gold. He does not enjoy the gold or do anything else besides guarding it.

Do you have a piece that is a favourite or is especially personal to you?

Favourites come and go. A snippet of writing might spring to mind because something I'm doing brings up an idea or phrasing. One bit that my mind goes back to occasionally is this one about Devi from my book Oddities of West Blankshire. (image attached) It's the kind of morbid whimsy that tickles me to no end.

The thing I find exciting about drawing is the act of drawing itself. It's just pure joy. So, my favourite drawing is the one I'm currently doing, whatever that happens to be.

You mentioned "personal" in your question, and I think it's a perfect word. All the things I create are inherently personal. As I mentioned, these things I write and draw are born of me. Something that I will never tire of is watching someone read a page from my book and catching the moment when they smile or laugh. That's the moment that I'm creating. That laugh is the feeling I had when the idea first crossed my mind as little more than an ephemeral neuron that tickled the right brain cell's funny bone. When I see someone else laugh, it means what I'm doing is working. At the risk of sounding terribly narcissistic, I love the stuff I make as much as my most loyal fan. Otherwise I'd be a plumber or sell fertilizer.

The point of our new website, Colony of Creatives, is to highlight people that have a creative spark that drives them and evoke happiness or inspiration in people by doing so. What would you say to someone that is too shy to share their ideas creatively?

Interesting you should ask, because in recent months I've been learning about the things that prevent people from creating. It's fascinating. First, I should credit Brené Brown who has researched the subject of shame and wholehearted living. Brown describes wholehearted people as those who are able to "bounce back" from traumatic life events filled with failure and hardship. From her research, Brown has found that wholehearted people share certain characteristics, one of which is creativity. People who find difficulty in expressing creativity often carry shame that stems from a childhood experience. So, a person who received destructive and hurtful feedback on a story or piece of art she created as a child, feels afraid of expressing herself now and avoids it. In this way, creativity is linked with shame and fear. I have also read a book called "Big Magic" by Elizabeth Gilbert, who links fear with creativity. Her response to fear is beautiful. Gilbert regards fear as a stupid and ever-present force that can never be trusted to guide our actions. Rather than trying to overpower fear or eliminate fear, she invites fear to come along on her creative pursuits. She makes space for fear. Gilbert asserts that fear and creativity must exist together. Gilbert says, "my fear and my creativity are basically conjoined twins, as evidenced by the fact that my creativity cannot take a single step forward with out fear marching along beside it."

Between Brené Brown and Elizabeth Gilbert, creativity has strong ties to fear and shame. That would account for shyness, for sure. From my own experience, I think it's important to pay attention to what makes you uncomfortable. Calling yourself shy is another way of saying that you're uncomfortable asserting your own creative voice. But you are not avoiding discomfort; you are really just trading one form of discomfort for another. You will either face discomfort being bold and asserting your creativity, or you will face another discomfort from not expressing your creativity. It is up to you which form of discomfort you choose to live with: the discomfort of being bold, or the discomfort of a life's passion unfulfilled. Avoiding discomfort is not an option.

Aside from all that, I think it's important to keep in mind why we are creative in the first place. Being creative is a form of play. I believe that my job is to play. I know when I'm doing well in my job because other people are getting as much joy from my creations as I do.

What have you been creating lately?

I'm spending more time these days looking at my artwork upside down and squinting at my writing through the wrong end of a telescope to patch together warped and half-finished ideas with old bandaids and rusty nails. I don't know how to explain what I'm doing so I'm just going to unveil it as it comes out of me. For instance, last year I took the plunge and launched my own line of birthday cards and Christmas

cards. You can bet I'll be adding more to the collection this year. I took about a year off of doing portrait commissions but I'm opening up the gates again in May. I'll also be doing some small and fun experimental projects. For instance, I have been obsessively sketching out textile and pattern ideas. These patterns are my own personal passion, but my hope is to find someone in the world who can partner with me in bringing my patterns to life on fabrics or products.