Meet Connor Morrell of Driftwood Production in Pasadena

Today we’d like to introduce you to Connor Morrell.

Connor, can you briefly walk us through your story – how you started and how you got to where you are today.
Growing up in Ypsilanti, Michigan – a small town near Detroit, I was exposed early on to the harsh realities of the world. In a community ravaged by drug addiction, violence, wealth disparity, and gentrification, it became clear very early on in life that art is one of the few “boundary breakers” that bring us together as a people and hold us together as a community.

It was in Ypsilanti that I uncovered my passion for creativity. Lucky enough to attend Eastern Michigan University to study Anthropology, I had access to photography and furniture making classes. I spent four years there, primarily in the darkroom, woodshop, and the science lecture halls. This is where I learned to turn wood on a lathe. I graduated in 2014 with degrees in art and science but stayed in Southeast Michigan for two more years.

In those years, I discovered painting. I had been experimenting with splatter paint on the walls of my apartment and had fallen in love with the mess-making process. My focus quickly shifted to the textures and colors of acrylic paint and I began to experiment. This is the era that I created “Driftwood Production” as an outlet for my creative output.

I was part of a vibrant, talented, and provocative art community. Surrounded by such incredible local artists- musicians, sculptors, poets, painters, brewers, and chefs- it was impossible to not be inspired. Everything was odd and new, powerful and challenging. Most certainly, though, it was never once boring. I began teaching informal painting classes at the suggestion of a stranger (Rachel, who became a very close friend) which started my professional art career.

Those two years, right after graduating from college, were incredibly painful. Artistically speaking, I was producing and growing more than I ever had before- but that inspiration was far more bitter than sweet. My friends were all dying- the opioid epidemic that had ravaged Michigan was in full swing. My community was in pain and our family was falling apart. For two years, we did our best to grow through tragedy, but it eventually became impossible.

In early September of 2016, at a supremely low point in life, I was invited by three artists to travel the country. Tony, a poet, philosopher and most experienced of the group, was our primary navigator. Hari, a musician, trickster and van owner, performed the live score for the entirety of the journey. Mikey, a gardener, racecar driver, fire spinner, and puppy dog, was our motor (a SERIOUS ball of energy, that one) and also our mechanic.

We left Michigan on September 11, 2016 with a vague plan- to “see everything”. Our journey took us through mountain passes, various Gardens of various Gods, city rooftops, desert caves, and ancient ruins. Healing takes many forms, and for us it was a chain-smoking pilgrimage westward just brimming with adversity.

Upon reaching Los Angeles and the West Coast, our road trip took another turn. Everybody bailed! I was left sleeping on the Santa Monica beach, not sure where I was heading. At this point, I was falling in love with the city and had no desire to go back east. Even though I didn’t expect to end up in Los Angeles, or even California at all, I felt I had found a home. I was able to find an apartment in South Central, where I built my first painting studio in a garage.

I began playing with local musicians and painting live as much as I could, focusing primarily on the texturing process. My series “Petroglyph X” was born out of my love for cave art and anthropology and was fleshing out in 2017. I began recreating, reimagining and inventing petroglyphs of my own in an attempt to encourage the viewer to connect with the ancient origins of art. We are all simultaneously separated and connected by culture, and art is the mode in which that gets expressed. We, as humans, have been doing it for tens of thousands of years, and that is OUR human culture- something that we all share.

For the next three years, Petroglyph X became my prime focus. I began mixing dirt, fire ash, sand, and coffee grounds into my acrylic paint, allowing me to create very organic, rock-like textures. Some pieces display subtle, nearly implied textures, while others take a more dramatic form, sometimes protruding more than an inch from the medium. It became sculpture-like, which inspired me to revisit my experience in sculpture making and furniture building.

In 2020, the world came to halt with covid-19 wreaking havoc across the world. Los Angeles was briefly a ghost town and the entertainment sector was annihilated. Being stuck at home, another period of incubation struck. If tragedy truly begets inspiration, then this year was unprecedented. At this point, I had recently moved to the Pasadena area, living in a large open space with other artists, cats and creatives. We established a film studio and woodshop of our own in the area and I was able to focus on woodworking again. In a time of isolation, I have been incredibly lucky to be mutually inspired by my peers.

Today, in mid-October of 2020, my art looks very different than it did in my youth. Wine inspired splatter paintings became thoughtful communications from our collective human histories (even if still sometimes wine-inspired). In other ways, though, my work seems to be circling back to my roots in the woodshop, with my recent focus returning to making wood sculptures on a lathe.

When I look back at my personal journey, it’s hard to not see some unfortunate similarities between 2016 and 2020. In their darker moments, both years have felt, at least to me, like the end. It’s difficult to see where we’re headed and it’s frightening. But that’s the adventure, and the truth is- the adventure will kill us all. So while we’re here, we have to learn and grow and teach and love and make art. We have to do what we can to make things better for each other. We may have all taken dramatically different journeys to get here, but we share the roots of human culture and we can help to get each other through this. I hope my art can play some kind of role in that.

So let’s get growin’. Let’s see what we can build together.

We’re always bombarded by how great it is to pursue your passion, etc – but we’ve spoken with enough people to know that it’s not always easy. Overall, would you say things have been easy for you?
Some bumps were bigger than others. The ones that affected me most were the deaths of dear friends, betrayals of lovers, getting lost on a road-trip and stranded in Los Angeles. The normal stuff, I suppose.

Please tell us more about your art.
I’ve been producing primarily paintings and photography since the inception of Driftwood Production in 2014. My paintings tend to be highly textured and often utilize coffee grounds and fire ash. I feel my paintings come from a place of my natural desire to express and reconcile my personal culture with a broader human culture. This is likely what I’m most known for in the art community.

I also specialize in woodturning, which is what I am currently most proud of. My work is traditional and authentic and comes from a place that I feel is deeply rooted in nature. Woodturning is all about transformation and fluidity and I feel peculiarly articulated in my ability to express myself through it.

So, what’s next? Any big plans?
The next big thing for me is framing. Be sure to keep an eye out for custom framing by Driftwood Production over the next year.

Contact Info:

• Website: www.driftwoodproduction.com
• Phone: 734.560.7260
• Email: driftwoodreach@gmail.com
• Instagram: driftwood11
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DriftWoodProduction

Image Credit:
Heather Lemmon, Connor Morrell

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