@jonnypaintspainting
I recently caught myself reminiscing about the glory days of Instagram. Remember back in 2011 when everyone had like, forty followers max, all of whom were actual friends (okay maybe one or two were mysterious creepers, even back then), and it was thrilling to click a button and make that photo of your friends on the couch look like an old-timey daguerreotype, or as though it were rendered through the Predator’s heat-seeking vision? Like most internet things, it was quickly monetized, colonized, algorithmitized and ruined, and like most internet things, I continue to begrudgingly use it anyway, though not as much as I used to, and with less personal satisfaction. If I scroll too long, I start to hate my own interests due to the aggressive way they’re spat back at me1, not to mention the way that food, friendship, jokes and natural beauty have all been smushed together into the same big grey ball of mush known as “content”. You all know this too, I’m sure.
Now that I’ve gotten off my chest how much Instagram chaps my hide, allow me to… turn around and promote it! It’s not all bad, of course; I even felt inspired to share my six favorite Instagram accounts I stumbled upon last year right here, on my very own Instagram account. And even more recently than that, I came across this page, @jonnypaintspainting, and felt compelled to share its joy with you. It belongs to London resident Jonny Brokenbrow, who primarily uses it to showcase his paintings and other artistic ventures. I don’t know him at all - I’ve never interacted with him beyond following his account - but here is a person that I immediately appreciated, thanks to his artistic aesthetic and the unusual nature of our shared interests. He generally paints live-action portraits, in a somewhat rudimentary (and facially repetitive) style, which in and of itself isn’t particularly exciting - it’s the subjects he’s chosen and the way in which he celebrates them that has me hooked.
Take a look at this one, for example, featuring a loose interpretation of Crossed Out’s Dallas Van Kempen in a fairly generic white tee and blue short-shorts(?) surrounded by Crossed Out lyrics, affiliations and descriptors. Like many of Brokenbrow’s subjects (Vlade Divac, Evan Parker, Stop And Think), he is probably the first person on Earth to paint Crossed Out, and with his focus on extreme underground music (lots of hardcore and free-jazz) and ‘80s and ‘90s NBA basketball stars, I feel like it’s crazy we aren’t already best friends. He’s yet to make a single choice that I don’t wholeheartedly appreciate2.
Here’s one that celebrates the late great Bushwick Bill, which captures Bill shirtless and machete-wielding, as we all prefer to remember him. Scroll through and Brokenbrow’s style emerges, with consistently wide eyes, the frequent use of mustard yellows and denim blues, and the sense that he is truly enamored with his subjects. After all, he seems to be doing it solely for his own enjoyment, an infectious quality in many of the artists I admire most. When it comes to cheap, easy, humble and prolific paintings of underground icons, the ‘90s were represented by Steve Keene, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Brokenbrow assumes that role for the ‘10s.
Or not - it might be the most beautiful thing of all if Brokenbrow is never “discovered”, never has any articles written about him and is never chewed up and spit out by the restless indie attention-economy. I’m happy enough to simply love his work, and hope that you will too, right down to this quizzical Doc Dart sculpture he made, presumably for the fun of making it. I don’t own any of his paintings yet, but I’ve got an idea3 I need to send over for a hopeful commission once I put together the necessary scratch.
Like one drag queen or pro skateboarder? HERE HAVE TWO THOUSAND MORE DRAG QUEENS AND SKATERS! It’s obscene.
Okay, maybe I’m a little lukewarm on Karl of Earth Crisis.
I’m thinking Whitehouse getting dunked on by John Starks. He could nail it!