BIOGRAPHY

Peter Cusack is an artist, editor, and curator. He is the founder of COCOA: The Journal of Cornwall Contemporary Art and has degrees from Syracuse University and Ecole Albert Dufois in France. His work is included in the permanent collections of the Museum of American Illustration, the New York Transit Museum, and the United States Air Force. His work has also appeared in Architectural Digest, An Illustrated Life, and Drawing Inspiration: Visual Artists At Work. 

PARTNERSHIPS 

• Tempest ‘20, was included in Architectural Digest, November 2022
• Commissioned by Ateliers Courbet (Melanie Courbet) to create 3 large scale figurative paintings
• Rice paper ink drawings available at Pierogi Gallery in Williamsburg Brooklyn
* Featured Artist in Isele Magazine November 2023

• Teaching Drawing the Baroque Figure at the Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of Art and IBEX Puppetry, NYC 

ARTIST STATEMENT concerning a recent body of work (November 2023)

"Why this farce day after day"

My work is not usually about issues. It’s about people. But I’m not able to keep the  wars out of my studio, nor the toxic political unrest, nor the various global humanitarian  crises, nor the thought that the climate could be in the process of collapsing, nor the  digital dependency that most of us suffer under. These 10 paintings are not illustrations  of the above issues but rather contemplative visual poems that attempt to express the  anxiety, the numbness, and the dislocation felt in response to the notion that we as  individuals can do very little to change the circumstances we face. We are left to bare  them. To my mind this idea brings us intimately together. These paintings are not  bombastic but whispers like one lover does to another. “I’m concerned.” “I know.”  

Individually these paintings are about memory and loss, the phenomenology of road  repair, and the endurance of artifact. Like literature, I’m telling (suggesting) stories  about life and meaning. The painting “Figure Folding Drapery” is about our struggle to  come to terms with overwhelming and complicated times. That fabric of our society is  twisted, too big, and unaccountable. “Road Maintenance” and “Tar Patches” speak to  the trauma that we all experience in our lives and the attempts we make to repair the  erosion, scars, and holes that it leaves behind. Potholes, pavement cracks, and tar  patterns along the road are compelling, suggesting a more profound meaning through  their fractal designs, mathematical underpinnings, and there alignment with universal  laws of nature. 

Sculptures play a prominent role in this body of work and in my work in general. My  interest in classical sculpture in particular stems from much time spent drawing in the  Greek and Roman sculpture court at the MET in NYC. These sculptures’ complex  beauty echoes the themes that I’m exploring on the road. Like road erosion, the sculptures are artifacts. They tell a story about time, and the enduring nature of  classical intelligence, universal natural order, geometry, and beauty. Embedded in  ancient sculpture is the very process of creation and erosion that shapes human  societies. They remind us of our greatness and our folly.  

I use the figure as a vehicle for identifying and expressing complex emotional  narratives. Paintings like “Man Spirit Dog” and “Violet Woman on a Dark Field with  Green and Yellow” explore intimacy, spirituality, transcendence, and loss. Color plays  an important role in this body of work but in particular color supports the emotional  tenor in my figurative works. The dark limited palette that I use is stoic and sonorous. A  sense of unification and fullness is reached by embedding rich colors inside an  organized tonal structure. The effect is a subdued statement with a register similar to a  cello’s; haunting and implying the human voice. 

The title of this body of work is taken from Samual Beckett’s play Endgame. In the  following verse we are to consider life’s existential frame work and the placement of  our sore human heart. The fact that it’s sore indicates that it has meaning. 

Clov: Why this farce, day after day? 
 Hamm: Routine. One never knows. Last night I saw inside my breast. There was a big sore. 
 Clov: Pah! You saw your heart. 
 Hamm: No, it was living. Clov! 
 Clov: Yes. 
 Hamm: What's happening? 
 Clov: Something is taking its course. Hamm: Clov! 
 Clov: [impatiently] What is it? 
 Hamm: We're not beginning to ... to ... mean something? 
 Clov: Mean something! You and I, mean something! [Brief laugh.] Ah that's a good one! 
 Hamm: I wonder.

And finally, I submit a poem of my own, a peace piece.

A Poem. This is a poem. He says, “My body is build for war.” She says, “That’s not what you body is build for”