JASON D'AQUINO // MATCHBOOK MINIATURES

GRAPHITE DRAWINGS ON FOUND SURFACES // MATCHBOOK MINIATURES // TATTOO

Jason D'Aquino's renown Miniature Matchbook Art, drawings on found objects and vintage surfaces in graphite. <iframe width="560" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/c49ygfBeiIQ" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

High Brow, Low Brow...Uni Brow

Growing up as an Art Dork in the 1980s, I had a serious comic book habit . I used to spend most of my money at Forbidden Planet in Manhattan, (on the weekends I’d sneak off to the city) and weekdays at every corner news-stand within a ten mile radius of my grandparents’ house. Whatever was left over went towards wax packs of cards like the Garbage Pail KIds, Wacky Packages, Dinosaurs Attack, Mars Attacks, Fright Flicks and every video-game themed thing the collectable card giants deemed fit to pump out.

I also loved emptying those four coin-slot sticker vending machines. -You know, the ones that were filled with reflective, prismatic stickers, sandwiched in white protective cardboard sleeves. What an amazing feeling it was to see each new surprise image revealed as it Ker-chunked it’s way out of the steel box and into my waiting hands. Four quarters at a time, until it was all gone. Scarcely enough left for a candy bar.

Years later I would scratch my way through Art School, Open my own Tattoo Studio, land a solo show in NY City, and then California, Philadelphia and Seattle, Luxembourg and a bunch of other places. Id go on to sell work at Art Basel, own a Gallery in the French Quarter of New Orleans-all the while toting around my sketchbook and Art supplies in a steel military-style suitcase, covered in those Garbage Pail Kids, Wacky Packages and Prismatic foil stickers. I’d look at them every day.

At some point, the High-brow Art world lost it’s lustre. Maybe it never had any to begin with. Every time I reached the top, it always ended up in sillies. Gallerists drunk and pulling their filberts out, Rainbow-haired millionaire patrons ogling little children, talentless artists stenciling their way to Christies. It got old and tired.

But those comic books and stickers never did.

So maybe it’s time to make my own.

Happy Birthday to ME, and MOONEES HOLOGRAPHIC RETRO FUN!

HI Everybody,

I have been working on this project for a while now and I wanted to let everyone know that the 4” X 6” Holographic sticker prints are finally going live HERE . New Moonees are being added to the site and I am plugging away and creating more retro fun for ALL!

The SAG-AFTRA strike is still ongoing, and while we all hope to reach an agreement with the studios, it is not looking good just yet….. The sides are simply too far apart. We are all being replaced by robots. HOORAY!!

But seriously, If you want to wish me a HAPPY BIRTHDAY and tell the studios how you feel, hit the link above and get yourself some MOONEES. Stick em where the world can see (or where the sun don’t shine). ;)

Love to ALL, and Thank you for your support!!

Put it in the Banksy…

It was a Sunday afternoon on Long Island NY - just driving around to pass the time.

I pulled to a stop on a gravelly driveway , leading up to what looked like an old warehouse.

Approaching the concrete structure, I see there are folding tables outside the loading dock. The tables are covered with toys and various items for sale , and I can see that the large warehouse loading bay doors are open , and the shady interior of the building is beckoning. It looks cool and tempting on this hot summer afternoon.

There is a lady inside the front office, who is photographing women’s’ high-end designer clothes and shoes, to list them for online sale. When I approach, she seems happy to be distracted from her task.

“Hello!”, she says with a big smile “There’s stuff for sale up here- lots of good clothes and boots-Gucci , and the stuff outside-and there’s Art too, if you like art…”

And she shoots me a look 👀

“Do you like Art?” She asks.

“I guess it depends what kind of Art”, I said in response, “But, Yes.”

As my eyes are adjusting to the low light of the warehouse, I notice that the bulk of the space , beyond the office area, is occupied by enormous towering rows of storage racks , stretching 20 feet high up to the steel girded ceiling . The shelves were loaded with pallets of vending machine snacks.

“My husband”, she says, “ He does vending machines. Here, follow me. I want to show you something”

As she leads the way through the snack labyrinth, I notice several boxes on the ground which are filled with printed paper shopping bags bearing the image of Felix the Cat , and above his face the words “Too Cute”.

So the lady says, “im gonna tell you a secret …ok , I’m not supposed to tell anybody ….

And as she leads me through this cavernous warehouse , to a carpeted back storage room , and opens the door she continues, “ do you know Banksy , the Artist?”

I nodded, “ yeah…”

“Well,” she continued, “ T****y is Banksy .”

The room she led me to was filled with large, brightly colored fiberglass sculptures of cartoon characters. A six foot tall Betty Boop, a faux-rock TV set from the Flintstones , the Big Bad Wolf from Tex Avery’s ‘Red Hot Riding Hood’….the Pink Panther…

“These are his - well, mister B****ash- that’s what he calls himself on these “, she said as she rolled her eyes playfully.

I was like, “yup”.

I wound up buying two vintage 1960s MCM Toucan lamps - original issue ( needed a little wiring)- no Sculptures.

But then again I wasn’t there for that.

It was just a yard sale.

Letting It Go

Letting it go -

I realized that I never shared the ‘WHY’ - just the ‘WHAT’…

Olaf is the poorly rendered imaginary friend that was never supposed to be immortalized. Re-animated accidentally by residual magic . On a deeper level, He is aware that he is not what God intended - this is the reason for his suicidal ideation ( but that’s another story)

My therapist told me to “let it go”.

Her advice was valuable. But in order to “let it go”, I would have to shake off the myriad ambitious doodlers who were inundating me with the questions.

Maybe it was a baby / bath water type of situation , but if I was going to move on from the creepy art world (gang) molesters , I’d have to bid ‘fare thee well!” To the whole bunch- the good AND the bad.

So I made Art about it.

The best kind of Art ( in my opinion). The kind that seems pointless , silly, spontaneous - the kind that does not aspire to luxury or immortality . The kind that is not boastful or prestigious. The kind that just says “buh-bye”.

Just a pencil , an eraser , a BIC pen and some yellow lined paper .

This is the WHY.

Here is the WHAT.