Enabling emotive attitudes to dictate a painter’s hand is the typical route to follow for any artist; Eddy Bogaert is no different in his approach, but his execution is distinct and stylistically memorable.

Described by some critics as a “Jackson Pollock on steroids” his work transcends the one-medium methods of creation by encompassing alternative – and somewhat opposing – materials: acrylic, glue, pen, collage – and UV light.

The latter creates a stark dichotomy that energises Bogaert’s underlying conceptual drive of representing duplicitous, false traits adopted by those during – usually awkward – “first-impressions”. A physical manifestation, if you will, of the human psyche’s inclined rejection of honesty.

The conclusion is a collective embodiment of thought-provoking depth, candidness and curiosity that taps into stimulative facets to catalyse a sick-yet-slick path to personality sincerity.

Lewis Firth: You went to Temple University in Philadelphia, what did you study?
Eddy Bogaert: I went to the prestigious Temple University, located in Philadelphia, PA. I studied International Business and Latin American Studies, and I minored in Politics. Obviously this has nothing to do with art. But that does not change the fact that the creative world of art runs through my veins. I was always creative, painting and drawing whenever my schedule allowed it.

“While I was at Rikers Island hanging out with some hardcore criminals, I did three things: workout, play chess and draw. I had all this animosity and sadness inside so I decided to use it in a positive way by painting.”

LF: How did your childhood influence the artwork you began to make?
EB: I was born in NYC, but I bounced between Torremolinos, Spain and Stamford, Connecticut. At one point I was living in the Dominican Republic, too. To add on to all this moving around, I lived with my mother, then my aunt and uncle and eventually back with my mother. When my aunt and uncle decided to move to Boca Raton, Florida, they took me with them. This didn’t last very long as I was sent to Knox boarding school, on Long Island, a boarding school that to me felt like a pretentious jail more than a school at the time, but now that I look back at it, it wasn’t so bad.

I’ve always painted but the catalyst for my self-exploration into the art world was when I went to jail. I don’t want to sound like a gangster, or a hoodlum or anything of the sort, but I made some mistakes in life and one got me in jail – well one of many mistakes, but this one was bad. While I was at Rikers Island hanging out with some hardcore criminals, I did three things: workout, play chess and draw. I had all this animosity and sadness inside so I decided to use it in a positive way by painting. This was my escape from reality and the start of something new that I never thought could exist. I found happiness in the purest form – almost like a child.

LF: A lot of your work features text and imagery anchored by lust and desire. I feel there’s this decorous attitude that runs through society, which sort of lays shame onto those who are vocal about sex and its references – or ‘being vulgar’, as they would call it. What do you think about that?
EB: People are always thinking of it. Girls and guys: sex is part of human nature. I am just not afraid to show my true feelings and let my guard down. But on a less superficial aspect, my work is really based on the human persona and love. A quick glance at my work, and you will see beautiful women, but if one keeps staring, one will start to explore its subconscious and see the extra dimensions in my work.

LF: Critics have compared your work to Jackson Pollock’s. He was an abstract expressionist and action artist, how do you feel about the comparison?
EB: I tip my hat to many other artists that have paved the way to what we see today as art. I really respect Jackson Pollock but I feel like my style is different than his. His technique and his theory is very different than mine, even how we begin a piece, the work is different. You can see similarities in our work, but once one starts to really look at it one can dive deep into another world, another dimension, with my art.

LF: I imagine painting must be quite cathartic. Is the resulting energy and conscious strokes all intertwined within each subject?
EB: I have a lot of energy and my mind is always exploding with new ideas and concepts. So I find it very relaxing to paint. It’s my escape.

LF: Your work is focused on human persona, in particular, first-impressions of an individual. What draws you to such a subject? And how do you think your subject reflects the political and societal duplicities that we encounter in culture now?
EB: Well I went to acting school at Susan Baxton Studios which taught me a lot about myself, and about society. So I used what I learnt in the acting world and put it on a canvas, giving it life – I almost feel like Dr. Frankenstein. Creating life out of different objects… I should start screaming after I’m done: “It’s alive! IT’S ALIVE!”

“…I’m interested in first-impressions because I don’t believe it’s the most honest of impressions. People look at you, assess your physicality and hear you speak, they then come to conclusions of who and what you are. A similar process to when people look at art.”

People wear this mask, this ‘public persona’. Some people say they don’t, and that it’s easier to just point the figure and say, “Look at them, I’m not like that.” Those are usually the ones who are full of shit. This captivates me because I love people, being an only-child and moving so much, I got to learn and see different people from all walks of life from the very wealthy to dead-poor. I never looked at them differently; I saw everybody as an equal until proven differently. That’s why I’m interested in first-impressions because I don’t believe they are the most honest of impressions. People look at you, assess your physicality and hear you speak, they then come to conclusions of who and what you are. A similar process to when people look at art. With my work, people will get the ‘public persona’, but then with black-lights the painting reveals truths; things change; colour that was once vivid becomes diluted; tones that were light become stronger. You begin to understand the ‘inner truth’ – like a person.

LF: You’ve described your work as a ‘chaotic balance’. How is this possible?
EB: Like the weather, in all its beauty, its also chaotic. This is called the Lyapunov Time. My work is called a ‘chaotic balance’ because through the chaos one can start seeing balanced patterns and subliminal messages that with the naked eye one can not see.