EDGE San Francisco

With his gentle demeanor, mustache, and twinkling eyes, John Bankston is as congenial as one would surmise from his artistic creations. Using the palette and flavor of childhood coloring books - vivid color is a prominent feature of his drawings, paintings and sculptures - he weaves narratives of African American cowboys, pirates and other whimsical creatures who inhabit imaginary universes. Though his work is playful and its beguiling humor disarms the viewer, there are hints of shifting identities, racial and sexual, and a deeper, more serious subtext. Is there something subversive just behind the curtain? Bankston charges viewers to determine that for themselves.

A spinner of tales, a visual novelist - apt descriptions of the gay, San Francisco-based African-American artist, who spends time at his studio in Hunter’s Point when not tending to the needs of his beloved French Bulldog, who demands a daily afternoon walk. "Without her, my day would have no structure," he joked ruefully in a recent conversation.

Over the course of his career, Bankston has drawn from myriad sources including, as Holland Cotter has noted in The New York Times, 19th-century slave narratives, children’s books and homoerotic S&M fantasy. "With its adroit juggling of innocence and experience and its witty, jazzed-up Winnie-the-Pooh style," Cotter wrote, "Mr. Bankston’s work is as understated as it is sophisticated." For Smoke and Mirrors, his latest show at Rena Bransten Gallery in SF, Bankston has forged yet another brave new world, one that’s equal parts science fiction and Grimm’s fairy tale.

Sura Wood: One doesn’t see too may gay, African-American cowboys and pirates out there in the world, or as part of the art scene. So I guess you’ve developed a real niche. What is it about childhood coloring books and role-playing that’s captivated your imagination?

John Bankston: When I was growing up, I saw very few African-Americans of any sort in coloring books. Using a coloring book is something we all have in common. It’s our first experience as visual creators. Coloring books reinforce accepted notions about how individuals are to be in society when they’re adults. I hope my work sparks viewers to interrogate seemingly benign elements of our culture.

In terms of art, I always used a line to define the forms and contain the color in my paintings. At some point, I thought, "What would a painting look like if the line and the color had equal importance?" I was looking for a way to incorporate gesture, color and flatness with figuration. The result of this experiment reminded me of the visual language of coloring books. In earlier works like "Bronze Cowboy" [on view at SFMOMA’s SECA exhibition], I would leave areas "uncolored." I felt these areas were openings for the viewer to enter the work and use their imagination. Actually, this painting was inspired by a visit to the black cowboy museum in Denver.

While I borrow from the visual language of coloring books, the work isn’t really about coloring books or childhood. We learn to practice role-play as children. As adults we’ve perfected the practice. I’m more interested in the way adults present themselves through performative dress. San Francisco is a great place to witness this. We’ve got pirates, cowboys and nuns with beards on the street, and that’s just in a three-block radius.

Sura Wood: Do you think your stories and imagery are filtered through a gay sensibility?

At this point I don’t know what that term means regarding the work. The characters in my work are black men who have left a place that is determined to strangle, label and pigeon-hole them, for another place where they determine their own identity through performative dress or costumes.

Sura Wood: How has your background shaped you as an artist?

The work is informed by African art and outsider or self-taught artists. I’m very interested in the myth-making, spontaneity and humor in this art.

Sura Wood: Could you describe the mythical realm you’ve created in your current show?

The setting for all the work is a place I call Rainbow Forest. It’s where one can go to become the character of one’s dreams. Life there has been beautiful for the cowboys, pirates, magicians and others. But recently, a couple of characters have conspired to create a machine that changes anyone who looks at it. The sense of harmony is lost in Rainbow Forest.

Sura Wood: You’ve used some paper sculptures here reminiscent of the papier-mache many of us experimented with in grade school. Is there something about the creative experiences you had as a kid that still intrigues you?

No, I just have a lot of paper in my studio. I love paper. I think of these as three-dimensional drawings.

Sura Wood: What’s a typical day for you?

My studio time is loosely structured. I start the day by working in my sketchbook or a drawing. The drawing might get interesting and take the day. Or, if I feel warmed up, I’ll start a painting or sculpture in the afternoon. Some days, I just stretch canvases.

Sura Wood: Are you as immersed in your stories and their characters as a novelist might be?

I don’t have back stories for them. But I like them all, even the tricksters.

Sura Wood: Did you come from a creative family?

My mother is a very good storyteller, and so was my father.

Sura Wood: How would you like people to think of you - as a magical storyteller, dream weaver, a graphic novelist?

Any of the above would be amazing. I have the great American graphic novel on the back burner. Someday!

Smoke and Mirrors runs through Jan. 28. www.renabranstengallery.com