There's a whole world in Skip Hill's art. Born in south Texas, he's called places from Amsterdam to Thailand to Oklahoma City home. ("I just spent a week in Miami. That's my vibe," he says.) Conversations with Tulsans—including Quraysh Ali Lansana, with whom he collaborated on the children's book Opal's Greenwood Oasis—convinced him to try us out full time.
Two years ago, seeing the centennial of the Tulsa Race Massacre on the horizon, he decided to make the move. From the perspective of someone new to the city but familiar with Oklahoma (he's an OU graduate and has worked with the Tulsa arts community for years), Hill talked with us about being in Tulsa in this historic moment and took us through the layers of meaning and media in one of his large mixed-media pieces currently on view at 108 Contemporary.
With influences as wide-ranging as Gustav Klimt and his grandfather, a professional sign-painter in Alabama, Hill's work repays a close reading. Days after we talked, I'm still finding new ways to see it. He'll have more to say about his art and his process in a virtual artist talk tonight, April 22, 2021 at 7:00 pm. Stop by 108 Contemporary to take in all the detail in "My Soul Looks Back and Wonder How I Got Over," his show with Letitia Huckaby, until June 20.
ALICIA CHESSER: What's your experience of Tulsa so far?
SKIP HILL: It's growing on me. It's not exactly where I thought I'd be at this point; I was sure I'd be living back in Europe. But I love my life. And it'd be tough for me to do what I'm doing someplace like L.A. There's so many artists, so many galleries there—whereas here I can at least make an impact. I do tell young people, as soon as you get out of school, please go experience something else that you can bring back. Come up with a business idea, work for one of the big museums or whatever, and bring that energy back here.
My girlfriend's from Tulsa, and she's white. We can be in Miami and Venice and L.A. and no one gives us a second look except to say, hey, you're cute! When we come back here, there's always some dude glaring across the bar at us and I just want to say come on, man. I'm pretty comfortable navigating white spaces. I was class president of a predominantly white high school. So I have no problem being the only Black, but my African-American spidey senses tingle when I'm in an environment where I can tell there's some people who are not comfortable with me being there. It's frustrating.
But we have things we really like here. I have my places now. I like driving down Riverside; in OKC they didn't really have a river, they had a ditch. Visually Tulsa is a beautiful city, especially midtown. And I'm grateful there are people who are interested in the arts.