Michael Greathouse

Child’s Play

Calvin had Hobbes. Andy had Woody and Buzz. Linus had his blanket. As children, we

navigated the world with equal helpings of wonder and fear, gathering our understanding of the

things and people around us as best we could. Often overwhelmed by what we found, a stuffed

animal, doll, action figure, or treasured object became an intermediary, a constant companion

and touchstone through which we could translate our experience. Michael Greathouse looks

back to those times in Child’s Play, a body of new paintings that illuminate the hazy divide

between childhood confidant and creepy critter.

Toys, especially those with anthropomorphic qualities, often live within a special realm in a

child’s existence. Plushies, stuffed animals, and various dolls all exist in a hybrid space where

they divert from natural fauna and are also clearly not human. Instead, they verge on the

uncanny, the space in which figures become both abhorred and adored. Like the twisted

inhabitants of the island of Dr. Moreau, these characters exhibit a push-and-pull that vacillates

between precious and peculiar. In popular culture, characters like Chucky or the denizens of

Five Nights at Freddy’s leverage this juxtaposition while playing upon the common adult distaste

or fear of the clowns, puppets, and figurines so beloved in our youth.

In his new series, Michael Greathouse approaches the childhood companion from two points.

Firstly, these observational pictures record the features and details of figures somewhere

between baby dolls and labubus. Creating dynamic personalities through intimate framing and

active rendering of their mischievous faces, the painter taps into the colorful imaginations of our

childhood. The second approach is that of portraiture. Like the great purveyors of that form,

Greathouse hints at the hidden soul that exists beneath the faux fur and plastic jowls by

depicting each in a way that more strongly highlights the real connections their former owners

had with them. Noting that each subject was previously loved by a child and discarded, the artist

establishes a narrative life for the objects that links their past with a more universal commentary

on human connection and growth.

Giving substance to spent time and love given, Greathouse’s paintings key into ideas brought

forth by both theorist Georges Bataille and artist Mike Kelley. The Czech Surrealist pointed

toward the informe, the formless ideas of the world that we so strikingly try to envision. How

does one show love, fear, and the passage of time in art? Kelley, in his magnum opus of these

elements given shape, More Love Hours Than Can Ever Be Repaid (1987), pushed the viewer

to ruminate on the sheer amount of unseen use, connection, tears, and joy represented by his

quilt-like assemblage of dingy animals. Both constructed ideas around something Greathouse

continues by honing in on the unknowable magic of the imaginary friend, the animated

personality of an inanimate object. He cites Freud’s 1919 essay, The Uncanny, in which the

psychoanalyst noted that “children do not fear their dolls coming to life, they may even desire it.

”Freud continued by arguing that an adult’s aversion to living dolls is really a fear of the

resurgence of the infantile they left behind. But perhaps it is not as far in the past as we think?

We ask questions of the internet and confide in AI bots as we navigate this changing world,

struggling to make sense of ourselves and others. And when it comes to half-asleep whispers

and muttered dreams, ChatGPT is a sorry substitute for the confidence of an unflinching fuzzy

friend.

Step Mother Nature