ULYSSES DUTERTE: "PRISON SUNSETS AND LANDSCAPES"

“Prison Sunsets and Landscapes”

Ulysses Duterte
February 2019

Interview between Eileen Tabios (ET) and Ulysses Duterte (UD)

ET: I’m delighted to feature your Oakland and San Francisco Sunset paintings, and grateful that you chose to create new sunset/landscapes works for exhibit. The first thing I noticed was the thinness of the paintings, the widths of Oakland and San Francisco paintings being 1-5/8” and 1-1/8” respectively. How interesting, I thought, as what’s discerned is something that can seem infinite: a sunset. Then I noticed (as your website presented them in this manner) that they are “inspired by Oakland City Jail Building Windows.” Please discuss the birth of these two paintings—I know you paint other scenes from nature but how did you think of sunsets for these thin spaces and what’s the backstory to Oakland City Jail?

Left: Oakland Sunset

Acrylic on Wood, 36” x 1-5/8” (2018)

Right: San Francisco Sunset

Acrylic on Wood, 30” x 1-1/8” (2018)

UD: My work in the public schools, particularly in the Oakland and San Leandro area, gave me the opportunity to meet kids who have been in and out of juvenile halls. I had the opportunity to know and understand their situations better—that helped me to help them in their studies despite their emotional and social behavior.

One day, the head of my school’s Carpentry Shop told me that all of the scrap wood that I see at the back of their classroom were free for my taking. I am not into sculpture because of my studio’s space limitations. But because I do want to do some mixed media, when I saw the thin slats of wood I took some pieces and brought them home. I then thought that I can just use them for anything aside from my art. At that time I was painting a series of California and Nevada sunrises/sunsets.

I don’t have a fixed subject for my paintings but when I paint, I always make a series of a subject. For me, it satisfies to see that I can have a show of a subject in a series and the whole world can see them.

A week after picking up the wood slats, I had a chat with a coworker, one of our counselors. He told me that he was once a “bad kid” in Oakland, became homeless, and got involved with some illegal things. He was in and out of the juvenile system and got imprisoned in the Oakland City Jail. But he said that he worked himself up and really changed to make what he is now. That talk with him brought back memories from a period when everyday I passed by a building along I-880 as I worked down in West Oakland. At the time, I had wondered why the windows of that building were slim and vertical. I did not know until a few years after I was told that it was the city prison and that each window represents one cell.

Suddenly, an idea came and I thought, why not paint a sunset or sunrise as seen from inside a cell.

ET: Let’s just clarify the nature of your work in the public schools — teaching? counseling? How long have you been doing this kind of work/how did you get started. This is what we’d consider your “day job” as an artist?

UD: I always dreamed of working full time as an artist but being in the U.S. I have to be realistic. As of now, I am a Paraeducator. I like working early—that is why I chose this kind of day job. I report early and go home early. That way I can still do what I love most, my art, for at least 6 to 8 hours a day when I get home at 3:00 in the afternoon. I am not involved in counseling although there are times when we cannot avoid giving them a listening ear whenever they tell us their concerns. Most of the time, my concern and love for these kids show in my subjects, especially my drawings. Most of my drawings and sketches were done during my breaks at work. We assist Special Education Middle School kids with their task as they attend classes in the mainstream. We make sure that they can keep up with the regular students. I have been with the Education sector for at least 14 years now. I’ve handled a school computer laboratory, a library and the rest is with Counseling Enrich classes, assisting teachers and counselors. Again, without my kind of job, I really cannot produce artworks. Some jobs can make you so tired and just relax when you get home. My kind of job inspires me to paint as soon as I get home.

ET: Do you think that your coworker’s story of being a “bad kid” resonated or moved you because you also work with kids?

UD: I have been doing voluntary work, particularly as a local missionary, for at least half of my life. I cannot remember how old I was when I began to accompany my parents in their missionary work. That’s actually part of my weekly schedule. We teach and use the Bible as the authority; for me, teaching people of different ages how to live right and practice Godly principles and moral values helped me empathize and understand kids better in school. From understanding their situation better, I become more patient in dealing with them in the similar way as God is so patient with us. I believe that everyone can change for the better given the right care and attention. So having co-workers who have changed for the better gives me joy and further motivates me to continue to help in the upbringing of these emotionally challenged kids.

ET: You thought of sunsets/sunrises because you were painting them at the time for another series. As you made this series did you happen to put yourself in the shoes of a prisoner looking at sunsets/sunrise only through a prison window?

UD: I belong to a religious group (Jehovah’s Witnesses) whose members are known worldwide to be persecuted for not joining wars and politics. Because of our love for humanity, we choose to be imprisoned rather than to kill others. So, for me, when I see prisons I always think that not everyone in those cells did something wrong. Some of them are there because they did something right. There are still some who are in prisons in Russia, Ukraine, South Korea and other countries just because they chose to be neutral when it comes to politics and wars. One of my favorite museums in Washington D.C. is the Holocaust Museum where it shows how our spiritual brothers were put in Concentration camps and killed for being conscientious objectors. Every time I visit Washington D.C. I always visit that museum. I have this painting, “All I Need Is A Spoon and a Bowl,” solely dedicated to all who suffered imprisonment and death for doing good. This painting actually influenced my prison paintings.

As for painting sunsets, I lived and worked in Reno, Nevada for almost 10 years. I was a bank equipment technician for nearly 7 years and that job brought me to different towns and cities in Nevada. Often, I had to leave home before sunrise and go home after sundown. Sometimes I drove 700 miles a day. I think Nevada desert dusts contribute much to the beauty of its sunsets. Those long drives along the loneliest roads gave me so much opportunity to enjoy the beautiful desert, barren mountains, beautiful sunrise and colorful sunsets that I never experience living in other states. Some state prisons are along those routes and I can see why they put those facilities there for hard criminals as they’re far from the big cities. As I passed those facilities, I couldn’t help but appreciate being free and enjoyed the 360 degree views of a sunrise or a sunset—these would be so different from what a prisoner could view or experience from the inside of a cell. But, again, I can choose to be imprisoned and enjoy a sunset or a sunrise from my cell by doing what is good—the same as our spiritual brothers in other parts of the world.

ET: I’m glad you shared “All I need Is A Spoon and A Bowl”—for me, it’s my favorite so far among your paintings. Can you share more about the work? It reminds me of Dostoyevsky...

UD: My painting is about remaining faithful under trials and persecution. It includes all those faithful ones from Abel, Adam’s son, to the nation of Israel under Egyptian bondage, down to the first century Christians; Nazi regime; Russian oppression of faithful ones; persecution during Idi Amin’s rule and modern examples of other countries still persecuting our brothers for remaining neutral in political affairs.

If you’re a camp prisoner, the spoon and the bowl is what you really need to survive. But there is another aspect that really helped Jehovah’s Witnesses endure during those years of severe persecution. It’s their strong love and belief in God, their love for each other and their fellow men. That really separates them from other prisoners. They were there undergoing persecution for righteousness sake. In concentration camps they wore the Purple Triangle as shown in my painting.

As I’ve mentioned earlier, the Holocaust Museum is one of my favorite museums in Washington DC. It’s so close to my heart. As you enter the museum you will see a scripture from the Bible, Isaiah 43:10, which says, “You are my witnesses.” I am not really sure how and why they chose that scripture but that scripture is one of our favorite scriptures—there, God is addressing his people, as His witnesses. A portion of the museum shows pictures of faithful Jehovah’s Witnesses who were put into prison and concentration camps during Nazi Regime solely for reasons of not bearing arms. That persecution of course did not stop in 1945 but in other countries our spiritual brothers experienced persecution for being neutral in politics and not joining military service up to the present. When I painted this painting, South Korea was one of the countries who still imprison conscientious objectors. It was only last November 1, 2018 that the Supreme Court of South Korea recognized that conscientious objection is “justifiable grounds” for refraining from military enlistment.

ET: How did painting on a relatively thin space (to mimic space between bars?) affect how you painted sunsets or sunrises from the point of view of looking through a prison jail window? For example, did you experiment with shrinking or “excerpting” from the image of a sunset/sunrise ... or elongate certain features? Aesthetically, how did you adjust painting on the thin space versus, say, the wider canvases you used for other series of sunrise/sunsets?

UD: Bearing in mind the Oakland prison’s elongated windows, I cropped pictures of sunsets and sunrises of the Bay Area that I had photographed while imagining that I was inside a cell trying very hard to enjoy one of the sunsets. Emotionally, there is a big difference in a horizontal view of a sunset compared to a vertical thin one. For me, the beauty of a vertical thin format can put yourself closer to your Creator if you really meditate on it. It gives you the idea that you can develop a closer relationship with someone that you cannot see just by seeing a partial view of his beautiful creative work. You have no choice but to look upwards and think about the infinite universe beyond our earth’s atmosphere. It’s like enjoying a piece of bread just because that is the only available food for you while you are starving. You enjoy it because you want to live and really appreciate its giver.

ET: Did you ever show this type of paintings (i.e. inspired by Oakland City Jail) to someone who’s been in jail? If so, how did they respond?

UD: My coworker, who I said was a “bad kid according to him,” is now a counselor for Special Kids. He once served time in Oakland City Jail. He saw my painting on Instagram. He said that that’s really how sunsets look like inside those cells. He’s followed my posts ever since.

ET: I think there are elements that surface only from prolonged duration or scale for a project—things that come up as a result of a prolonged process, and that one can’t always anticipate from the beginning. Did this happen for this series and, if so, can you give examples of what popped up?

UD: As I said, I grew up praying to God for his loving protection for our brothers who are being persecuted and imprisoned in some parts of the world. We pray, not that they do not undergo persecution because it’s expected but, to give them endurance while continually showing that they are God fearing and to continue doing good when wronged by others. I also believe that prisons are originally created to change and rehabilitate people who really did commit crimes. Some changed, some don’t. So I have mixed feelings when I did this prison series.

ET: How did you, if you did, consider seasonality and/or the time of day as you created images?

UD: For most artists, color is not a problem, unlike with photographers. Most Bay Area photographers take their postcard pictures during wintertime when fog is not an issue. Winter and fall sunsets look better than that of summer or spring. For artists, it’s not really an issue unless you want to really capture what a camera sees. I personally tweak my colors, more often make it brighter than the original.

Sometimes, too, I take pictures, keep them, and then paint them months after I took them especially when I am doing a different series. Regarding the time of day, I often paint in my studio so I have to use daylight bulbs for me to really get the right colors on canvas. Color temperature of bulbs in studio is important if you want to get a white light in your studio which really affects the final outcome of your work.

Wooden slats before they were painted:

ET: How long did it take you to do the series? Did you work on more than one painting at a time?

UD: It took me less than a week for the whole series. I painted them one at a time. Each one has a different theme so I make sure that I finish one painting first before doing the next one.

I believe that an artist should not wait for an inspiration in order to draw or paint. I draw and paint everyday to be inspired. If I can, I try to paint or draw 6 to 8 hours a day but if I can't, at least I go to my studio, get my drawing pad, draw for at least 30 minutes or so. I call my day complete only when I was able to touch my brush, my pencil or at least sit down in my studio and think of a subject to paint for my next project.

ET: Did you work from photographs?

UD: I did. It’s impossible to do a plein air of a sunset or of a sunrise. It just takes a few second to capture what you really want. Sometimes I act like a tornado chaser just to capture a sunset that I really wanted. I also do not paint a place that I have never visited. So I make sure that I know the place and if I want to see the 360 degree view of the place before I paint it, I use Google Map just to make sure that I am painting it right.

ET: What was it like to work this series? Do you think the total number of 8 (after the Oakland and San Francisco paintings) is the correct number? If so, why—was there a sense of completion at the end of this series? How do you know when a series ends or has painted itself out (not just on this series but generally)?

UD: I have never done a series on wood in this format so I really felt the excitement in doing this. It also gave me a chance to express what I feel towards those who are incarcerated because of the crime that they committed as well as for those who are imprisoned for doing what was right. I am planning to do more series in this format, some vertical and some horizontal in different subject matter. There is nothing special with the number 8. I can make 100 pieces or more if given a bigger show space or if I can express better in that quantity. When I feel that I have already expressed what I wanted to say, I call that series done. If I paint more paintings after that, I know that I am just repeating what I have already said. I do not want to do that. The next thing that I will do is to think of another series of subject to paint. I am a chronicler. I paint events in human history.

North Fork Arts Projects if pleased to show a close-up view of Ulysses Duterte’s paintings from his “Prison Sunsets and Landscapes” series.

Prison Exterior Lights
Acrylic on Wood, 36” x 2-1/2” (2018)