Frank Jakum is a self-taught artist who was born in Baltimore, Maryland in 1957 and has lived there all his life.
"I began to draw at a very early age and paint with watercolors as well. Subject matter at that time was often scenes from science-fiction movies made in the 1950s. I learned about birds in the 3rd grade and began to draw and paint them daily.
I asked for and received a pair of binoculars for Christmas and also some bird books. One of the books was Song and Garden Birds of North America. In it, I saw many reproductions of paintings by Walter A. Weber and Allen Brooks.
It would be difficult for me to overstate the influence of my exposure to these images. When Allen Brooks signed his paintings, he also dated them and I have followed suit ever since. While I have changed the way that I sign and date my work several times over the years, one thing has remained unchanged from that early time. It is the application of a dash mark in front of the date and another behind the date; just as Allen Brooks did when he signed and dated his powerfully expressive illustrations, many rendered in the 1930s.
I knew I wanted to be an artist and I was very sure that I would paint pictures of birds. This conviction prevailed for about ten years, and in my early teens I began to pursue it on canvas with oil and acrylic paints.
In my late teens and early twenties, I began to emulate the work of Joe Thronburough, a wildlife artist who worked with a transparent acrylic wash on 100% cotton mat board. My best bird paintings were done in this manner and then my interest in this subject matter quickly faded.
In my early twenties, I began to paint mostly nineteenth century sailing ships in oil on canvas. This involved most reacting to paintings done by other artists and even outright copying them. This was not comfotable for me to do, but there was at that time a creative energy aimed in that direction which somehow worked for me.
At that time, I also began to buy and study art books containing information and reproductions of the work of artists such as Rembrandt, Frans Hals, Vermeer, Michaelangelo and da Vinci. Equally influential were the books I purchased dealing with the French and Preceeding American Impressionist Movements of the late 1800s and early 1900s.
In the early to mid '80s, I studied and copied the works of these artists. I also copied the central figures of Albrect Durer's, "The Martyrdom of Ten Thousand." The work of Durer and Bosch were very influential and my reaction to them led me to believe that, at least for a time, I would concentrate on developing a more or less surreal imagery where I could depart from the stifling dictates of realism to drive home a point that might otherwise be missed by the observer. Through the early '90s, I 'lifted' many images from dreams and my imagination. I worked from no tangible source of reference; I was working from 'within.' This effort was becoming central at the same time that my understanding of paint and canvas was exceeding my capacity to remember or visualize images from my dreams or imagination. My ability to paint was exceeding my ability to remember. The gaps in the capacity of imagined images to evoke a response in the observer made me realize that I needed help in remembering.
Photographic reference source now provide this help. I now find a reflection of the things within the forms that exist without. In the 1950s, Jackson Pollock said, "A modern artist need not go outside himself but can work from within." He also said, "I am Nature." In the 21st century, an artist need not work from within, but can find reflection of the things within the forms that exist without. Crumbling and pot-holed streets, trash clogged storm drains, and dented and rusting fenders may not seem like the makings of "feel-good art," but they say more about today and ourselves than any of the mega-colored works of Monet, Sicely, Pissaro.
I've turned a number of corners in the last forty years and this has taught me to avoid making predictions about the future direction of my evolution, but at the core of the process has always been my reaction to experience in everyday life. I expect this to remain central in the future, as it always was in the past."