I’LL say this: no one really knows Josh Chandler, not really.
To call him a polite man may be a little far-fetched though. He’s as cavalier as they come and, much like his work, it’s unapologetic. I fucking love him for it too. This is some of his work he was kind enough to share.
To say that Josh is a kind man may seem like a stretch to those who don’t know him too well. He cares about his work, he cares about sports, he cares about art, and he cares about oil painting.
He’s taken styles he’s seen in his weekly jaunts to the city’s collections of contemporary art. He’s unapologetic, like I said. I tell him I want to meet him one day and look at art with him. Where?
“The Broad? Nah, the Broad is shit. We’re going to MOCA. It’s right across the street, and it’s way better.”
No one else I know would ever be so bold as to say that. Mais Josh is a unique soul. I give his words weight not based on boldness though. The weight’s based on commitment. He’s been to both a dozen times in the last year. And he’ll fill two canvases in a week. And he’ll call you out on just about anything. Nothing is holy ground to him. No one is sacred. Except maybe Basquait.
Personally, I always thought him to be a bit of a blowhard. Basquiat, that is. Josh is simply a something else.