Memphis native Anthony D. Lee has been influenced by the culture and heritage of the places that he’s lived. From the sounds of blues music drifting from Beale Street to the tumultuous history of the Civil Rights Movement, Lee credits his Memphis roots as an important contributing factor in his creative development. The artist’s vivid palette was inspired by his time spent in St. Croix, U.S. Virgin Islands, where the environment and atmosphere are suffused with a vibrancy of both life and color.

Lee’s paintings are richly textured narrative works that are layered with complex symbolic meaning. An image of the sun appears on panel, as an indiscriminate presence under which every human being has lived, or as a higher power that connects all of humanity. Many of his paintings contain bits of wire, nails, or rope, representing a metaphorical restriction. In some cases, it is a hurdle such as segregation or prejudice that must be overcome. Often, the works include bits of newsprint or stenciled words that, coupled with the intensity of the faces looking back at you, beckon the viewer to take a closer look.

Nat Creole: You attribute a lot of your artistic development to your mentor Bill Hicks, what are some of the lessons that you learned from Mr. Hicks and how do you integrate those lessons directly into your artistic approach? How important do you feel it is to have a mentor to help guide an artist’s development?

Anthony D. Lee: I credit Bill Hicks with my development because he is the source of my "formal training." In my three years of high school, I spent eight semesters under his tutelage while he was simultaneously an instructor at the Memphis College of Art. His expectations of high school students were no different than that of his college students, and thusly taught in the same mode. That was my training- he gave me a skill for a lifetime.

Hicks showed me, inadvertently, that the proliferation of art is a "fountain of youth." He was charismatic and full of wit—of which I admired. His quips would beset any teenager who dared to attack. This is how he controlled his class and students—with humor. I learned to have this young, happy, and imaginative approach to art without knowing it.

Mentorship for an artist is important... but it has a short shelf-life. The artist can only develop his personal voice away from the mentor. A good mentor only equips the artist for the journey, and then sets him free.

NC: You have an extremely varied background that shows you have gained experience in a number of different facets of life including opting to serve 3 years as a paratrooper in the Army’s 82nd Airborne Division the army instead of accepting an art scholarship to the University of Memphis.  What was the thinking behind this decision and how did your early development as an artist color your perceptions and observations of military life? 

ADL: I wanted some adventure! I went to a college preparatory high school where 85% of the graduates went on to study at a four-year university. In retrospect, it was a slight rebellion against sameness—no one else I knew joined the Army. Also, at 17, I sensed that military life would catapult me into adulthood and allow me to gain a better footing with authority.

My initial perceptions of the military were always naively based on visuals. I looked forward to the color and pageantry of being a soldier. The uniform, ceremonies, terrestrial camouflages, and the outdoors were all visually appealing to me. This may seem shallow, but a very motivating factor for my choosing to become Airborne (a paratrooper) was the fact that I got to wear a very complementing maroon beret with my hunter green uniform.

After the initial magic of the military began to wear off into my second year of duty, I became more aware of people belonging to certain societal sets. I saw that the U.S. Army was actually a microcosm of the social spectrum of America, only this one could be controlled. I was a silent dissenter of a lot of policy and learned quickly the worldviews of other regions and races. This is where I learned how important simple politics play a major part in one’s own success.

NC: After leaving the army, you then decided to drop both school and your day job to work as an artist full time in 2003.  What kind of changes in your daily life did this necessitate and what are your thoughts on your decision now that you are some years removed?

ADL: My life-altering change in course was in no way an abrupt choice. It was fueled by months of dissatisfaction with work-life and others’ confidence in my talent. In the months leading up to my decision to finally quit, I worked a lot of overtime in order to brace for the storm that was coming… but I knew I would endure somehow.

I had to learn a new mode of generating income, self-sufficiently. My years in the Army gave me the tenacity to never quit, and my time at work gave me the hustle and knack to engage different people. I had to jettison some financial weight and make many cutbacks, but I had a goal in sight. I feel like I went through a purging in order to discover what was truly important.

I have no regrets at all. It could only be done the way it was done. I’ve learned to develop my intuition and begin to rely on it. Coincidences no longer occur for me. It was not the best experience (being hungry, broke, and floating bills), but it is what was necessary.

NC: Your work is able to portray a kind of personal and forward looking quality along with a real respect and affinity for history.  Do you feel this affinity is directly related to growing up in Memphis, a city that has a storied history but seems to be priming itself for a vibrant future?  

ADL: My style of work and content culminates in Memphis—my home and my element. It was born of discovering my roots and knowing that almost all black modern-day Memphians are descendants of those that once worked the fields in Mississippi. I was profoundly curious about what my “place” would be in a past time in the same city.

Remnants of racial division still hover in Memphis. The city can truly never become the metropolis it aims to be until this issue can be solved. Technology turns faster than the mindsets of the people in the city that I call home. Always the optimist, that “vibrant future” seems only as bright as a desk lamp.          

NC: You have a strong desire to engage the viewer in your story-telling process, why do you feel it’s important that others actively participate in your vision?

ADL: If the viewer can develop their own attachment or interpretation for the work, then it’s instantly “good.” To let them enjoy the work based on their individual experience allows for additional feedback and new discoveries in content. The work then takes on a more complex definition. Transitively, the viewer helps develop the work after its physical completion- the pieces continue to grow.

NC: What are your plans for the future? Are there any ideas that you are currently developing?

ADL: I will continue to create! I’m chasing Romare Bearden. I’m striving for that type of legacy that will be recognized during my lifetime… as was Bearden’s.

In the same way I deal with Memphis and black southern subjects, I will explore the roots of my maternal home- St. Croix, in the Virgin Islands. I was just awarded a grant from the Tennessee Arts Commission and the Caribbean Museum Center for the Arts to do just this. I have a residency at the museum in March 2008.

For more information on the work of Anthony D. Lee and a closer look at the artists coming out of Memphis USA, please visit www.artmemphis.net and www.hearnefineart.com.