Robert X. Burden in his studio. Photo by Randy Dodson.

Artist Robert X. Burden paints largescale, intricate representations of small, plastic figurines from his childhood. The pieces also contain the actual toy or a taxidermied animal that relates to the work, in the same fashion that a Catholic reliquary displays the body part of a saint under their respective icon. These paintings feature ornate backgrounds that infuse the composition with an almost frenetic religiosity, and Burden acknowledges that his Catholic background may have affected his aesthetic adding, “but maybe an equally religious experience as a kid was going to the toy store.” In this exclusive interview, the artist discusses what it’s like to be part of the last generation of children who grew up without the internet, how many hours it takes to paint an 11 foot piece, and what it takes to keep “the code of Thundera alive.”

Come this Saturday to see the opening of Robert X. Burden’s solo show Toy Box at the Shooting Gallery!

Toy Box, A Solo Show by Robert Xavier Burden
Opening Reception – Saturday, May 11, 7-11 pm
On View Through June 01, 2024
@ Shooting Gallery (shootinggallerysf.com)
886 Geary Street, San Francisco, CA 94109

RSVP.

View images of Burden’s work, and the interview, after the jump.

“Soldiers of Thundera,” Oil on Canvas, 142×82″

Your backgrounds are inspired by those on carpets and stained glass windows which creates a beautiful contrast between the florid patterning and the geometric solidity of the toys themselves. From where do you copy these motifs? Do you use art/pattern books, photographs, or directly work from these objects?

The patterns are from a variety of sources. Initially when I began this body of work back in 2024 I was almost exclusively using wallpaper, rug and fabric patterns from my childhood home as source material. But more recently the patterns have become a combination of things. “The Holy Batman” includes elements taken from books of stained glass, patterning books, and motifs that are just made up.

Details from “The Autobot,” Oil on Canvas, 140×90″

Can these paintings be interpreted as a lamentation on the disillusionment of childhood? Or are they only meant as a celebration?

I think it’s important for me to acknowledge that I’m from the last generation of boys and girls to have ever known a world without the internet, and I think that makes my childhood an antediluvian moment before the Deluge. I couldn’t imagine growing up with the access that kids now have to just about every amazing and horrific thing that has ever happened in the world. That’s disillusionment! Sure, there’s definitely something sad about action figures. These are objects that once held so much power, but I mentioned in my artist statement the ‘freedom of childhood’ – no real shame or despair or cynicism or jadedness. Toys were some of the first things that I can ever remember drawing…and then you hit puberty and you become infatuated with other things…and then you get over that angst and those hormones and then you can allow yourself to remember how wonderful it was to have ever been briefly blessed with a sheltered childhood. So I guess my answer is ‘both’.

Your paintings are based on toys from your childhood, so they are all figurines that are considered to be for boys. Would you consider working on toys more stereotypical to a girl’s childhood, like Hello Kitty or Barbie?

Hello Kitty – doubtful. Barbie – maybe. She-Ra and Swiftwind – definitely. I mentioned earlier having two older sisters. There were quite a few girl-toys that found their way into Castle Grayskull. I’ve also always been a huge fan of every classically animated Disney movie, and that’s unisex subject matter that I adore.

I’ve often stated that the inclusion of the action figure is similar to that of a saints reliquary. The patterns and compositions of many of the paintings also make it difficult not to put them in a religious context. I was raised Catholic. My Mom is a Catholic, but my Dad isn’t, and I don’t think my sisters would consider themselves to be religious in any way. But I always had an interest in Catholicism and religion in general. So I went to mass with my Mom as a kid. But maybe an equally religious experience as a kid was going to the toy store. Walking down the aisles of action figures, and staring up at those shelves that were overflowing with different toys, and then getting to pick out one of them on a special occasion, like another form of holy communion. These toys were once talismans and now they’re relics, but I don’t keep any of them under my pillow.

The artist’s studio, shot by Randy Dodson.

One of your largest works is 11 feet tall – how big would you be willing to go, or have you hit your ceiling? How many months does it take you to complete a painting of that stature?

Studio ceiling is 15 feet. The time it takes to complete a project depends more on the intricacy of the patterning than the scale. The patterns slow down the process considerably, but I’m also always working on more than one painting at a time. The Holy Batman took me the longest so far – about 1100-1200 hours of studio time spread out over 11 months.

Any stories on memorable responses to your work?

My memory sucks. But I did get an email from Larry Kenney (voice actor on the original Thundercats tv show) not that long ago thanking me for ‘keeping the code of Thundera alive and well’. That was pretty neato. Also having Mattel buy one of the paintings to hang in their lobby was pretty humbling recognition.

“Cobra,” Oil on Panel with Encased Cobra Head, 16×33″

Shrine/ritual art is very popular now in the Bay Area. Do you consider your work as falling in this category? If not, what makes it different?

I think Brett Cook Dizney is a ‘shrine’ artist that I have admired for a long time. The man has vision, and he goes for it. The question deserves a more thoughtful response than this, but that’s all I got right now. If somebody decided to lump my art in the ‘shrine/ritual’ category I wouldn’t object.

Why did you start including taxidermied animals into your pieces? Has this altered the message of your work?

Why would anybody want pet turtles? They are the worst pet. They’re filthy and they do nothing…BUT…turtles that are mutated into NINJAS are amazing! So I begged my Mom to get me a couple of turtles when I was young. I named them Michelangelo and Leonardo. Then my family and I went on vacation for 10 days and I completely forgot about them. When I came back one of them had starved to death. It was traumatic. I was a negligent pet owner. I was a monster, guilty of involuntary turtle slaughter. I couldn’t even keep a turtle alive. Soon after that experience I set the other one free in a river a few miles away. I guess that’s my answer.

You have painted a replication of the California state flag, as well as other flags with your invented heraldic imagery. While these works don’t reference religious reliquaries, they draw from a template that is equally official and authoritative. What attracts you to religious and state art to reference in your compositions?

As a young boy you want everything to be official and authoritative. As an adult you need everything to be official and authoritative. I’ve always loved flags and European heraldry. It’s a beautiful form of branding.

“The Autobot,” Oil on Canvas, 140×90″

Your bright palette and rhythmic patterns have been compared to the artist Kehinde Wiley. From which contemporary artists do you draw inspiration?

In terms of contemporary influences- Kehinde Wiley, Todd Schorr, Takashi Murakami, Drew Struzan, Ron English, and some Bay Area people like Brett Reichman, Dan Lydersen and Matthew Cella.