St. Paul native Noel Young, Speaks with Metamorphosis about Art, Inspiration and livin' in the twin cities. You can find Noel on Facebook, Twitter and at his website: noelyoungstudio.com.
Morph: When/how did you first realize you were an artist?
Young: I don't recall that there was any realization, or any kind of awakening. Making stuff is what I've done basically since I can remember. When I was a kid I spent a lot of time in my room drawing pictures of things that little boys draw pictures of: lots of animals with swords and armor and things like that. I actually sold a couple of them to kids at school, or bartered them for things. I remember a popular trade item for drawings was packets of ramen noodles.
As a teenager, I also spent a lot of time in my room drawing pictures of things. I started sculpting models out of clay. Then I started painting things. When I graduated high school and had to decide between a liberal arts program and a dedicated art school, I chose art school.
Essentially, I think I realized I was an artist when I got my BFA. Right?
Morph: What famous artists have influenced you, and how?
Young: I'd have to say my background is mostly rooted in cartooning.
In my folks' house, my dad's got a weight bench in the basement, and in front of it is a bookshelf to which have been relegated all the books of shabbier condition - the ones that don't make the cut to appear upstairs. 
Among these lives a comprehensive collection of Walt Kelly's Pogo books. When I was little, I used to sit on my dad's weight bench and read through these. All of the '60s political humor went over my head, but I loved the drawings. I'd bring the books upstairs and try to copy the larger illustrations. I started collecting the Calvin and Hobbes books and drawing from those. I loved the scratchy animation in Disney movies from the '60s and '70s like Robin Hood and The Sword in the Stone.
In high school, a friend lent me My Neighbor Totoro and I went nuts for Hayao Miyazaki. His work has an amazing delicacy and grace that comes from a meticulous attention to detail; I also feel a connection to his recurring themes, which speak to the importance of family, loyalty, independence, and the beauty of the world.
In early adolescence, I was also engrossed in the work of a couple other Japanese artists: illustrators Yoshitaka Amano and Akihiko Yoshida, both of whom work primarily in comics and video game concept art. Their work made me want to do what they do, bringing their unique talents to what are mostly seen as lowbrow media in the art world.
In college, I was exposed to Art Nouveau and Romanticism, and the Expressionist painters of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. I still idolize Egon Schiele and Gustav Klimt, which I think is visible somewhere in the art I make. I love the emphasis on beauty, even if it's made grotesque, and the integration of the figure with ornate patterns and textures. Much of the work of both artists, fine art or commercial, is subtly surreal and alludes to their own personal senses of mythology. (The first thing to come to mind is Klimt's Beethoven Frieze, which I can't stop looking at, ever.)
There's a whole slew of contemporary painters, drawers, designers, et cetera, too, but they're too numerous to ... enumerate.
Morph: Tell us about what you’re currently working on...
Young: Right now I'm working on a series called Goddesses of the Post Apocalypse. I've taken a short break from painting; I'm doing this one digitally, mainly because I hadn't done it in awhile. Two are finished and I think the third will be the last. What they look like is drawings of giant ladies descending from the sky to rebuild the ruins of cities and houses while tiny, shadowy men watch them in fear and awe.
Morph: Where did the inspiration for that come from?
Young: Phew. Well, I was browsing around online and I'm not sure what I'd been looking up - I might've been researching Indigo Children or something - and I came across this website about modern Pagan mythology. There was an article describing a future in which, after humans have destroyed nature, these mother goddesses will appear and cleanse everything. I started thinking about that.
Also I've been thinking about the environment a lot lately. I've been doodling ruined buildings on everything, too. With the state of things, oil spilling into the ocean and massive foreclosure and bankruptcy and everyone just feeling so desperate, these inspirations seem natural. A large part of the idea behind the drawings, though, is that we did this to ourselves and it doesn't seem like we're going to rally and do a great amount to fix it.
So ultimately, it's about human weakness, and more specifically male weakness. It's hopeful in that forces of nature do reappear to correct the wrongs that have been done, but it feels a little hopeless in that these destroyed men have barely gotten by while waiting for some mother figures to come from nowhere and fix all of their problems.
Morph: What neighborhood do you live in, and what do you like about it?
Young: A much more lighthearted question! I live in Powderhorn Park, and I like most things about it. The neighborhood is very diverse, and it's just a little south of East Lake Street so there's so much good food nearby.
I'm close to Global Market, which is one of my favorite places in Minneapolis. Lots of awesome culture to absorb there, and it's got a full government office on the lower floor, which is convenient. They put on great cultural events throughout the year, like the craft fair every winter which features work by local artists.
Powderhorn Park also hosts the May Day parade each spring; that has to be one the weirdest, coolest things to happen in the Twin Cities. In the Heart of the Beast Theatre works with volunteers to create huge puppets around a springtime theme. Other locals build giant, elaborate floats made out of scrap metal and bike parts and bands play on top of them. It's an amazing scene to witness.
The neighborhood is roughly halfway between the river and the lakes district. South Minneapolis is gorgeous. There are so many trees and lakes. Small businesses abound. People bike everywhere. Basically, what's not to like?
Morph: What are your favorite things about the twin cities?
Young: See above. No seriously, I've lived here my entire life and although I acknowledge the importance of living in other cities, it's always been so hard to leave. The thing I adamantly dislike about the Twin Cities is winter. It gets far too brutally cold here, but despite the weather nothing really shuts down. There are things to do year round if you know where to look, and our local papers and magazines do a good job of keeping track of large and small events around town.
We were recently named the number one city in the U.S. for bike commuting, which is encouraging. So many people in my neighborhood commute on bicycle, and we're close to the Greenway. I really love this city. I don't care for winter, and we badly need a more comprehensive rail transit system. Otherwise I think we do quite well.
Morph: What do you do for fun (besides makin’ your art)?
Young: I ride my bike a lot. I have a part-time coffee shop job and a part-time production painting job. I spend a lot of time sitting on my porch. I love to cook. I listen to and play music. I've got a horror movie obsession. And I've recently realized that I enjoy doing interviews.
Morph: If you could have dinner with one person, living or dead, who would it be?
Young: Tom Waits, Kim Deal, or Robert Pollard. Maybe. I don't know if any of those people would be any fun to talk to over dinner, or if the conversation would involve anything more than my swooning over their greatness; still, the fantasy in my head describes a rich, mutual discussion about nothing in particular.
Morph: We heard you illustrated a book...tell us about it.....
Young: Dad Enough For Us is a book for early readers written by John Boehle and his seven-year-old daughter Emma. It's about a father playing with his kids, adopting various personalities and characters that reflect his real-life self.
For instance, in one situation he is depicted as Bigfoot, having accidentally destroyed his son's model train by stepping on it. The book asks if Dad is a scary Bigfoot. The facing page answers that no, he is not, and shows an illustration of Dad diligently repairing the broken toy. Another shows the children chiseling a representation of Dad out of stone, asking if he's a boring, motionless statue. The facing illustration shows the father quietly reading a book by himself while the kids peek in on him. The moral, ultimately, is that Dad has fun with his kids, but he's no work of art or monster or superhero or anything else; he's just Dad, and for whatever his flaws may be, he does a good job. And that's... enough for us. I think it's great! We are currently shopping around for representation.
Morph: What inspires you to create art and how do you keep motivated when things get tough in the studio?
Young: This is really all I want to do, and I know I'll get there. The only way to move ahead is by making things all the time. It's particularly hard on days like today, when it's seventy-five degrees and sunny outside, so we'll see if it turns out to be a high accomplishment day or a low accomplishment day. That's important, though, too: if more work can get done by taking a break and playing outside, then that's what needs to be done. Sometimes getting out and about provides huge inspiration, especially in Minneapolis summertime.
Click here to see our other Spotlight on Community interviews!
