Rising Stars: Meet Pablo Perez of Venice Beach

Today we’d like to introduce you to Pablo Perez.

Hi Pablo, please kick things off for us with an introduction to yourself and your story.
I was born and raised in Los Angeles in a creative household raised in equal parts of Catholic guilt. My father was an artist and always encouraged us to think independently and to challenge authority and the perceptions we hold about the world and ourselves. My mother instilled a sense of security, consistency, and tenacity.

As children, we were constantly making art as a way to entertain ourselves. My three older brothers and I had very diverse interests and hobbies, but ultimately I found music. It became an anchor and brought out a yearning to be better that I didn’t know I had.

Hours of practice led to garage bands, which led to funk bands, which led to jazz bands, which led to majoring in music in college. I was fortunate enough to study with the likes of Putter Smith, Bobby Bradford, Don Simpson, and Lazlo Czer, to name a few.

A few years as a professional musician led to an internal crisis of self. I was grateful to working playing weddings, bars, and sessions, but I was unfulfilled. I challenged who I was and what I had become. I then decided to quit music and become a painter.

I sat in my room painting 8–10 hours a day, and in about a year I was able to squeeze out a living, producing multiple shows. This journey as an artist took me away from my home in Northeast Los Angeles to Venice Beach.

This change of location allowed me not only to reinvent myself but also to shed preconceived notions of who I was. Being in Venice led me down a path of discovering what it really meant to be an artist. During this time, I also met my future wife and lifelong partner to this day.

To make ends meet, I took a job doing data entry. At first it felt like a failure, and I couldn’t understand how I had ended up in this position. Again, I challenged my perceptions. I started to document my time in the office in my art and soon understood that I was meant to be there and that this was what would make me unique. I knew then that being an artist is a state of mind, not a destination. An artist is an artist no matter where they are.

During my time there, I hated technology and wanted nothing to do with it. If someone asked me, I would say, “I’m not a technical person,” and mentally walk away. Then I thought: Why? What voice is saying this? How is this limiting me? What would happen if I explored it? If I learn technology, does it stop making me an artist. I was scared of the thought. What would happen if I explored it? So I did. I knew nothing about technology, but I decided to go method.

Technical people buy books about tech and read them, learn how to code, and talk tech, so I did the same. I even cut my hair and started wearing ties to work, which were not required.. I think it kind of shocked my artist friends. This evolved into my becoming the company’s web developer. I soon found out that there was a whole new, unexplored well of creativity that I had never been exposed to in technology. I walked through a door and found a new world…always continuing to make art.

Fast forward to today.

One day I could be sitting on a panel of leaders in the software industry or doing a lecture/workshop at the UCLA Art|Sci Center on contact mics and improvised response. Or maybe it’s curating a three-day sound art event for the Torrance Art Museum, or playing an experimental live modular synth set in an abandoned warehouse. Maybe it’s making a card for one of my children’s birthdays. My approach is always the same: I approach everything by finding the potential, striving for newness, and reassembling symbols to create new forms in paint, notes, bytes, or words.

We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
Nothing has ever felt smooth for me, but every decision I made felt like an obligation to some unknown force, an act of faith. I have always felt called to choose the path less taken with intention. My continuous challenge to myself about what it means to be an artist never leaves me in a zone of comfort, but somehow it continues to bring a fulfillment that nothing else can. Struggles happen not only internally but externally as well.

Moving on from a community and its audiences has also been very difficult at times. These are the lifeblood of the art world, and I would be nothing without them. But sometimes the easy path is to do things to meet the expectations of others or to play by the rules of a given community, causing you to dampen your inner voice just because it may not resonate. When that voice gets loud enough, it’s time to gently move away. Moving away is painful but sometimes necessary. This is why it is so important to give more to the community than you take, so that when you leave, you leave something behind.

As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
Most recently I have been playing a combination of experimental modular synthesis, noise, sound art fused with visual projections and kinetic sculpture. I was playing shows, festivals, curating and lecturing all over Los Angeles. Deeply entrenched in the experimental music scene. Working with museums, colleges and universities, but during this time a yearning from my past was calling and it started to feel like a component was missing: the incorporation of my early training as a musician. I started to recall the days where I would spend 6-8 hours a day practicing for years. I missed the ritual of practice. So for the last year I have been focusing on practicing piano and intend to incorporate into a new era of art.

As to what sets me apart from others, is difficult to say. I think my ability to just start over and leave what is comfortable. To understand context of who I am within an audience and when I lose my self. My ability to walk into different environments without changing who I am really am and feel comfortable. My sense of exploring and curiosity is unending.

Looking back, what I’m most proud of is that I can think of all the chances I took and the unusual choices I made, and a warm feeling of happiness comes over me.

Is there anyone you’d like to thank or give credit to?
So many people, beginning with my parents, who always supported my creative endeavors. I have also had so many great teachers and mentors, too many to mention. Barbara Goodwin, my high school drama teacher, is a standout; she helped pull me out of my shell. Bobby Bradford’s belief in me, and his generosity in sharing his knowledge and wisdom, gave me a newfound confidence to assert my artistic voice. I am so grateful to them and to so many more. Every artist I see and hear influences me and teaches me new things. So do all of my collaborators, the people from my past, and my history. I am just one thin layer on top of a history of great people who came before me.

I think living in Los Angeles has also been a great instructor. This city breeds such a unique and diverse group of people. People with dreams and vision come here. It’s always inspiring, and I am grateful to live here.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://pablokris.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/pablokris/

Image Credits
Pablo Perez