Jeff Elrod with Phong H. Bui

When I think of Jeff Elrod, I think of the following Ernst Cassirer remark:

A utopia is not a portrait of the real world, or of the actual political or social order. It exists at no moment of time and at no point in space; it is “nowhere.” But just such a conception of a nowhere has stood the test and proved its strength in the development of the modern world. It follows from the nature and character of ethical thought that it can never condescend to accept the “given.” The ethical world is never given; it is forever in the making. 

And knowing Jeff’s deep appreciation for concrete poetry and haiku, I also thought of J.G. Ballard (one of his favorite authors), who uttered, “Art exists because reality is neither real nor significant.” Whatever lies between Jeff’s early natural alchemy with super graphics and video game lexicons and his willful desire to explore an inherent pictorial synthesis of digital art that ascribes to the warmth of the human hand and body, they are indeed both collided and integrated at times. All of a sudden the old conflict of art and technology becomes new and urgent again. This time the two old friends (who had forgotten each other’s names and places of birth) met again with tremendous resistance to and embrace of each other simultaneously. On this occasion of Jeff’s third solo exhibition The Last Handshake at Luhring Augustine (November 17, 2020–January 9, 2021), I’ve finally found an ideal opportunity to speak at length through Zoom with Jeff at his studio in Marfa, Texas about some of the questions that had been lingering in my mind in regards to the continuity of his evolution as a painter, leading to the creation of this new body of work. The following is an edited version of our two-hour conversation for your reading pleasure.