about

Artist Statement:

“I love the challenge of physically translating a thought or feeling

onto a canvas.”

Born in Kankakee, IL. In 1967, Baron left his hometown at the age of

seventeen and headed to California with about $100 in his pocket.

He worked a variety of jobs until he could get into art school. He

received his training at the Art Center, Pasadena, CA in 1997 and

The Art Institute of Southern California in 1998 and has been a

practicing artist since. His work has been featured in both group and

solo exhibitions since 1997. The artist now lives near Dallas, TX with

his wife, Tania.

Baron’s paintings incorporate elements of surrealism, mark-making,

text, collage, pop imagery, all drawn from his own thoughts,

experiences, and dreams. “My main body of work explores childhood

memories, everyday objects or an emotion.  My work has childlike

simplicity with layers of complexities. Many images, writings and memories are buried in layers of paint.  Some of these show through while others are covered up forever…just like feelings are.”

His palette, while relatively simple, is rich in layered depth and

saturation, while seemingly innocuous collaged or drawn objects -

particularly coffee cups - float in a field of largely negative space.

“I aim to create a balance between color and form, usually with only

three elements.  I start out making random marks and scribbles on

the canvas just to “activate” it.  By pushing and pulling paint and

imagery, I’ll often attach a memory to it somewhere in the process.”

Regardless of the work’s perhaps more serious intent, there’s often

an innocence or child-like sense of play in most of Baron’s paintings.

This sense of play underscores the personality of an artist who, while

not taking himself too seriously, nonetheless maintains a strong work ethic, creative momentum, and commitment to his practice and career. “If I have an idea, I explore it. I get it out of my head

so I can move on.”

derek david baron

​©2020 derek david baron, all rights reserved.​