On IG the other day I came across a comment that touched a nerve:
I feel like a jerk posting images of awesome things with the shiddyest (sic) camera. I love those high quality shots just as much as any other Lego fan. But at the end of the day, it’s just a bunch of minifigure pictures. I’m not trying to get the most expensive camera award.Anonymous
This comment comes from a person who identifies themselves as a “Master Builder” and while I don’t agree with their point of view, there is a kernel of truth in his statement. It directly addresses that little voice in the back of my head that holds all my doubts.
I know I will have to answer this question directly to the patrons of the Bryan Ohno Gallery and to any potential collectors. What makes this work worthy of purchase? Since the subject is a common household object, can’t anyone do this?
I’ll be very clear that I never set out to take the art world by storm and make “whimsical, powerful, iconoclastic and often unconventional art which speaks to, challenges, and provokes discussion about cultural, political, and social issues and the role art plays in our evolving global community.” (This is actual language taken from a gallery invite I received.) This is not me and it never has been.
What I do strive to create is art for Lego fans. I want to make art that any fan would be proud to display on their wall and so they can tastefully let their freak flag fly. I want to bridge the gap between the casual fan and those incredibly creative master builders. And if my images touch a deeper emotional truth along the way, then I couldn’t be happier.
I hope the Lego universe is big enough for all of us to play in. Each in their own way be true.
Does this fellow Instagram user have a point, is it just a mini figure picture?