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CHICAGO ARTISAN:
Laurie Hogin
The fine artist paints her view of the natural world, and she wants us to stop destroying it and ourselves
BY PAMELA DITTMER MCKUEN
When Laurie Hogin was growing up in a suburban neighborhood outside Midtown Manhattan, she found sanctuary from a chaotic home in a vast nearby woodland. She learned to name. native plants and trees and identify songbirds, wildflowers, fungi, and mosses. Deep into the flora and fauna, and accompanied by her two best friends, she found solace and healing.
Then, their beloved forest became an illegal dumping ground heaped with household garbage and industrial waste. The outraged, saddened trio of children. raised money for the World Wildlife Fund, and Hogin made propaganda posters for her school homeroom.
"I documented what was happening by drawing it. We didn't have cameras, so I drew dumps in the woods," says Hogin, a fine artist, university professor, environmental activist and rescuer of unwanted dogs. "Essentially, I am still doing the same thing."
Hogin is internationally recognized for her allegorical paintings of mutant animals and plants in dioramas of freakish menageries or individually posed and ornately framed, like classical still lifes. At first glance, her psychedelic-hued subjects appear as warm and inviting as a Walt Disney cartoon, but closer inspection reveals deep nuance and even horror.
In her surreal world, remote vistas are desolate. Monkeys with human faces are screaming and gnashing. Bunnies sport protective tiger stripes. Impossibly pigmented reptiles are slithering amid human skulls. Albino animals and fruits are void of essence.
These are not peaceable kingdoms. They have been subjugated by habitat destruction, pesticides, global warming, genetic modifications, addiction, violence, commercialism, greed and myriad other societal ills.
"It's the difference between the way the natural environment is traditionally depicted and what's actually going on with it," Hogin says.
Mutant Animals as Avatars
Depending on the work, Hogin's mutants are avatars for the human race or symbols of specific human behaviors. Some compositions are political satire, and others are self-portraits. Animals are more fun for her to paint than humans, and they provide greater opportunity for colorization and caricature. A monkey brandishing a firearm or a zoned-out candy-pink guinea pig on tranquilizers is more palatable to viewers than a person doing the same thing.
"Humans are not as separate from evolutionary biology as we might think," she says. "We, too, are animals. We do aspire to rationality, and that's important and a good thing, and something we have evolved to do. But we also are driven by our instincts as part of our evolutionary heritage."
Every element of her work, even her titles, is layered with meaning. Firebirds, which are folkloric creatures who are reincarnated through fire, symbolize adaptation and survival. Rabbits represent feminism and ubiquity.
CMYK Valentines, a reference to the cyan, magenta, yellow and black ink plates used in some printing processes, introduces romantic love in the digital age.
My Pretty Ponies of the Apocalypse, a series of seven horse portraits, is a mashup of cultural touchstones: "My Little Pony" toys by Hasbro, All The Pretty Horses novel and movie, and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse of Christian literature foretelling the end of times. The paintings are small, relatable
to her collection of toy horse figurines, and each is tagged with the chemical name of a common plastic both essential to and destructive of modern life.
Art for a Healthier Society
"I don't think you are going to change policy with artwork," she says. "What you can do is influence a culture. The fact that art exists in society makes the society healthier because it makes you think more broadly. As an artist, I do my part in that. My hope is to evoke empathy toward all creatures and the ecosystems that support them."
Hogin earned her Bachelor of Fine Arts degree from Cornell University in Ithaca, New York, in 1985, and her Master of Fine Arts degree from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago in 1989. While a grad student, she worked for an environmental activism group focused on pollution and human health. She also met a fellow student, Greg Boozell, a documentary photographer and filmmaker, whom she married in 1995.
After graduation, Hogin launched her studio practice and exhibition career, but her ultimate goal was to teach. She held several adjunct positions, and in 1997 joined the faculty at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign, where she is a professor of studio art in the School of Art and Design.
She and Boozell reside downstate in a rural area near forest, prairie, river and trails for running and biking. They live with their two adopted mixed-breed dogs and studio companions, Reggie and Xena.
Hogin's artistry has been exhibited at such prestigious venues as the DePaul Art Museum, DePaul University, Chicago; California Center for the Arts, Escondido; New Museum, New York; Art Institute of Chicago; Addison Gallery of American Art, Andover; and Contemporary Art Center, New Orleans.
She is represented by Tory Folliard Gallery in Milwaukee, Koplin Del Rio in Seattle and Littlejohn Contemporary Art in New York.
"I have always admired Laurie's work, from her meticulous technique to the research and development that deepen the meaning of every brushstroke," says Rockford Museum of Art executive director and curator Carrie Johnson. The museum in 2020 put on an exhibition of Hogin's paintings and sculptures accompanied by her favorite songs and inspirational books.
Says art dealer Tory Folliard: "It is that tension between the beauty of her work and the troubled scene that lies below that I find most compelling. I may not know the specifics of the chaos, but I can certainly tell that something is very wrong in this world, and I want to know why."
Hogin's life and work have gone through many changes over the decades, but she's never left the woodland of her youth far be- hind. Metaphorically speaking, her "woods" have only expanded.
"As you can see, I've never really stopped making those posters," she says.