I interviewed the great Michael Gallagher at his show 
Hallucination Engine at Schmidt/Dean Gallery this month.  It's up on Title Magazine 
here. I first met Michael when I was in graduate school at PAFA, he has been a faculty member of the undergraduate program for many years.  An enthusiastic and fearless painter (he told me he sanded down and entirely reworked and repainted one of the big pieces the weekend before the show opened), we got into topics from how he negotiates imagery to the current acrylic paints on his palette.  
Read the full piece below:
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| Heat Engine (Dippy) 2016, acrylic on panel, 48 x 60 inches | 
“Look, a student gave me a dippy bird!” exclaims painter Michael Gallagher as he greets me at his solo show 
Hallucination Engine
 at Schmidt Dean gallery recently. His enthusiasm for this little glass 
figurine that bobs as it drinks from a glass of water underlines the 
sense of humor and playfulness that he brings to his paintings. One of 
the most successful works in the show titled, 
Heat Engine (Dippy) echoes
 the color and shape of that toy bird, a toy Gallagher admired deeply as
 a child but never owned. As Gallagher explains in the exhibition 
catalog , titles are derived by naming something that “lends a degree of
 specificity without completely shunting [the painting] into a narrow 
read.” This teetering place at the edge of recognition is the show’s 
source of power.
At first glance, the scale and prominence of vibrant colors in 
Hallucination Engine may
 lead a viewer to falsely believe they are strictly formalist works 
about shape and construction. Born less of that Hans Hofmann New York 
School, this work owes more to Arthur Carles, Stuart Davis, Charles 
Sheeler – the Philadelphia brand of modernism. It operates with a shared
 belief in instinctive decision-making and solid compositional design, a
 departure from a most austere approach towards imagery and play.
  
A sustained engagement with any canvas in 
Hallucination Engine yields movement, and the enervating discovery of initially unseen elements, such as in 
Big Pink, where
 a tiny square becomes an elephant’s eye on a trunk-shaped profile. The 
paintings unfold and nod back at you when given time and consideration. 
Michael and I sat down in the gallery to look carefully and discuss 
questions of process, intention and the best paint colors.
|  | 
| Big Pink, 2016,  acrylic on panel, 53 1/2 x 72 inches | 
AL: In the exhibition catalogue, your artist statement feels 
very automatic and free, like a record of your mind making jumps and 
connections. Does this relate to how you allow the work to come 
together, through freedom and trial, or are you pushing against 
something?
MG: Very much so – ‘free-range’ – how to get from one place to 
another without a definitive map – something like that. I think ‘allow’ 
is an apt way to describe the process – a certain autonomy on the part 
of the work – letting the painting determine a direction – it just seems
 more interesting that way. If I were pushing against anything, it would
 be a resolution that is too limiting and expected
AL: Do you have a certain intention for the work, as in where
 it should sit between abstraction and representation or what happens 
with regard to space, color?
MG: I do enjoy images that move between differing degrees of 
abstraction and representation. These two terms, although useful, are 
also problematic, due to their degree of relativity and differing usages
 – I mean, I use them, but they always need clarification.
Of course, space and color are a central concern, inseparable from 
one another, and I do spend a lot of time considering how forms sit in 
space and relate to one another. I’m told that an abiding interest in 
these matters, often referred to as ‘formal’ or ‘modernist’ are no 
longer sufficient unto themselves, but I don’t quite see it that way. A 
really good Amy Sillman painting, which connects to a Diebenkorn, that 
hinges on a Matisse, which converses with a Cezanne, that drinks from a 
Delacroix, that dreams of Rubens, that sings to Titian, who honors 
Bellini, who gets so much from the Byzantine tradition of painted icons 
and, well, let’s just cut to Giotto (and that’s only the Western route).
 All of these reference points insist on a type of visual language that 
privileges structure and complexity through space, color and 
composition.
AL: What is the significance of the magnolia for this series which is the title of a few of the paintings?
MG: I have painted this motif for at least a decade at this point. It
 began with the more naturalistic paintings – a series of table top 
still-life’s that concentrated on ‘white’ as the subject of the work, 
white crockery and the like, which led to the ‘white’ of the magnolia, 
perhaps influenced by John Peto’s series of magnolia paintings and 
certain works by Martin Johnson Heade.
They became for me a symbol of Spring. I would run around town clipping a few examples, from
buds just beginning to open to full blown blossoms. They are a real 
challenge because they bloom so quickly – you have to work fast. They 
are very sensual forms – the most interesting still-life images have 
that sensual element – and they have recently been imposing themselves 
on the more abstract works.
|  | 
| Blackflower (Magnolia 2) 2016, acrylic on panel, 36 x 48 | 
 
AL: Is color derived more from a perceptual decision or an emotional one?
MG: Both are in play, along with intuition, a conceptual viewpoint 
and purposeful choices based on color principles. If one spends enough 
time making and looking, these long-standing color
combinations become second nature. Most painters I speak with don’t seem to premeditate or
systematize their color usage – in fact when I mentioned that I had been using a color wheel in
my studio recently, I got more than a few quizzical looks.
AL: What are your favorite paints on your palette at the moment?
MG: Magenta/various types of blue/greens (Azurite/ Turquoise 
Green/Yellow Green), Quinacridone Violet, (various grays) – what might 
be described as high-keyed, saturated ‘contemporary‘ colors. Not unlike 
the colors in Bonnard paintings painted a hundred years ago. Hah! So 
much for the contemporary.
AL: What work have you been looking at recently?
MG: I recently visited the Degas exhibition at the Modern, Bill 
Scott’s solo show in New York, along with the Bonnard retrospective in 
San Francisco. All great examples of the type of work that allows for 
sustained viewing: the more you look, the more you get, but you gotta 
pony up. Of course, I’m constantly looking at books and images online – 
always.
AL: What couple words or phrases do you hope it boils down 
to? What do you hope a viewer of your work leaves the show thinking 
about?
MG: Surprise – the pleasure of looking, and a sense of discovery. 
Painting can do so much. Paintings, along with other forms of visual 
art, all art-forms, recalibrate the way we see and think the world. The 
multiple reads an image can offer are, for me at least, enjoyable and a 
constant reminder that it pays 
to pay attention. In the words of Dave Hickey, ‘Art is the antidote to everything else’ – how can you top that?
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The show is up through this Saturday, May 28th! Check it out at 
Schmidt Dean   1719 Chestnut St.