Meet Jhonattan Arango | Muralist & Fine Artist

We had the good fortune of connecting with Jhonattan Arango and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Jhonattan, how do you think about risk?
Risk is everything. I’ve gotten well acquainted with risk. For a lot of my life I would play it safe. I was kind of a good boy; I wanted to be a good son, a good employee, a good student, etc. I didn’t willingly take a lot of risk because that would probably mean breaking away from the mold and venturing into the unknown side of behavior. Fortunately life had better things in storage for me.

Talking about risk: one day, while in graphic design school, my favorite art teacher (a badass artist herself) calls me and my project partner into a private room. She had designed this class and invited a handful of people to be a part of it, then paired us up with whomever she thought we’d fit best. Every week we’d work on a piece together to make up this cohesive body of work. She paired me up with this awesome guy who was not only my friend, but an artist I admired. He was great at backgrounds and I was great at foregrounds, so that’s what we were making -foregrounds and backgrounds. When she called us into the room she showed us our work, looked us in the eye, and said something like: “I get it, you’re both doing what you’re usually doing and you’re proud of it. But if you keep it up you’re not going to get anything from this class. I want you to step far out of your comfort zone, and this is not it.” We stepped out of the meeting flustered, confused. Maybe a little rabid. We went into a drawing studio across the hall and, without saying much to each other, did something wild: I took out my “foreground” painting and cut it up into a bunch of pieces in wild cuts, without looking, letting my frustration do the work. He found a broom and started sweeping the floor, then picked up the dirt, spread glue all over the canvas, and dumped the dirt right onto it. There were pieces of charcoal, skin, dirty dirt, white and off-white things, probably nails, definitely hair. There was no discrimination. And then I pasted my cuttings onto it like I was punching the canvas. Not like a well-calculated kung-fu strike, but like a wacky arm flailing inflatable tube man with a purpose. Cathartic. We couldn’t believe how amazing it looked, but more importantly, how incredible we felt having been challenged to surrender that way, to experience risk in such a raw way. There were tears in my eyes. It’s my most memorable art teaching moment.

At some point mindfulness comes into my life, and with it the development of faith. Faith and risk go well hand in hand. On an intellectual level, we may understand that change is good, but without the experiential aspect we may stay on the surface, famously trying to solve problems from the level of consciousness that creates them, or living from a space of habitual safety while hoping for exceptional results. Risk and faith, for us, has been a tool to live the life we want to live, to dive into the unknown only to be shown, over and over, that not only are we properly cared for by forces larger than our understanding, but also supported beyond our wildest expectations.

Regarding murals, we’re essentially painting huge canvases. It takes longer sometimes. But it’s a way to really dive into the unknown. Every wall brings a new challenge and an opportunity to touch someone’s life or be touched. It’s not art for someone’s personal living room, but for the shared space that is a neighborhood. Art in the public realm is a risk in itself. A mural is very much like a tattoo; not all tattoos match everyone. They’re a very personal thing, and murals are often very personal things to a city or an area. So we always touch base with our intention: why are we doing what we’re doing? What is the purpose? And the purpose is always grounded in the best possible intention, like a prayer for a city. That’s where we’re working from. We’re putting our hearts out in delivering highly public, positive experiences which can be interpreted in any number of ways, but I believe and have historically experienced that as long as the intention is wholesome and we’re doing our best to live in harmony with universal law, the reaction or energy around the project also matches that vibration. So risk is big. Risk is good. Risk is welcomed.

Alright, so let’s move onto what keeps you busy professionally?

Please tell us more about your art. We’d love to hear what sets you apart from others, what you are most proud of or excited about. How did you get to where you are today professionally. Was it easy? If not, how did you overcome the challenges? What are the lessons you’ve learned along the way. What do you want the world to know about you or your brand and story?

My wife Samantha and I make murals and studio arts using only the rigid shape of the triangle to make highly organic compositions. We find inspiration in flora/fauna, the human form, and anything that reveals itself as universal law. Our work is an exploration into the subject of interconnection, and rudimentarily mimics the function of triangles as the most fundamental fabric of reality. With often thousands of triangles to tell the story, our process seeks to showcase how, just as in life, each piece is an integral part of the whole regardless of color or size. We think of it as an ode to the threads that connect all 7.8 billion people to each other and everything else in existence.

Besides making solo murals we also work with a community mural format that allows for people to paint murals together. They are what we’re most proud of and excited for. We have facilitated projects all over the States where hundreds of viewers become the artists (earlier this year we had one in Loveland, where over 200 people came to paint a portion of a mural over a weekend). Community murals are at the heart of our work because we love to bring people into a space where they can practice the wonderful art of being together, all while creating a beautiful body of work. There’s no age or skill limit thanks to a number of failsafes; if they can hold a brush and put it to the wall, they can paint. This process yields a sort of mental real estate comparable to tangible ownership; it turns a public space into “our space —the place where I collaborated with others.” Historically speaking, people tend to remember the piece(s) they painted amongst hundreds of others.

Samantha was born in New Jersey and grew up in North Florida. By my standards, she’s a genius. She can take any idea and forge it into something beautiful, and she can organize my thoughts into something cohesive and worth working on. Big picture, creative gal. She sees the potential in everything and is amazing at chipping away at the marble to reveal a beautiful statue. She’s the filter. Sometimes I work on something for hours and hours, and right before the deadline she’ll tear it apart and offer a different direction. It drives me crazy without fail, but the result is typically worth the rework. I was born in Cuba, surrounded by art in many of its forms, and moved to Jersey when I was 13. After high school I joined the Navy and ended up in Florida, where I’ve been since. As for me, I’m the braun of our operation. I have hands I love to use, a desire to make things beautiful, an attraction for the meticulous, a natural reservoir of patience and the resilience to match it. Both of us love people, the redemptive power of art, serving others, and we live to spread love and expand deeper into it. This combination brought us to murals.

In 2013 we both attended a 10 day silent meditation course in which I experienced something so transformational that I couldn’t convey with words.
Maybe it was my desire to share it that brought this compulsion to work with triangles. One day, shortly after the course, I had this idea and had to start working on it right away. The result was the very first studio piece made out of cardstock triangles. They became a way to talk about interconnection, beauty, and mathematics. When we begin a project, a person may only see a small group of triangles with no apparent connection. As the work progresses these triangles become clusters of shapes and colors that take on material, identifiable meaning, such as an eye or a petal. Only through time may the person appreciate how each piece serves a purpose in making up the final composition, regardless of—and thanks to—being different in color, shape, and size. We feel that either working on or witnessing this process tunes us into a narrative on natural cycles, on the hopefulness and beauty of being alive in a place where cause and effect seems to mathematically fit into the greater equation.

We started making murals after decoding what we really wanted to do with our lives. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t not easy. It required a lot of effort but in an effortless kind of way because we were both doing what we love doing. Continuity and risk-taking may be very important here. We pitched our first mural to an opening nightclub in our city and we were almost turned away, but I flashed one of my studio pieces and the man took a good look, then asked: “We open in a week; can you do something like that over there?” as he pointed to a 16’ x 16’ wall. I had no idea how, but I had a great desire to do it, so we did. I would sleep for a few hours a day on some couches by the wall and paint the rest of the time. Samantha would get off work and come feed me. We kept that pace for that whole week. Then they asked me if I would paint a second smaller mural on a different wall. I said yes. In order to finish in time for their opening night I painted for 36 hours straight before collapsing on a couch. After that one came another one, and then another one. The portfolio started growing and I kept putting myself out there in the best way I knew how. We’d get walls through friends, then referrals, then calls to artists. Each project brought us closer to our vision of making it a full-time career.

I mentioned continuity. Over the years the formula has changed; each project brings about a new way to work, a better unfolding, a deeper knowledge of the medium and the scale. We’re baby muralists, really. We have about 30 or so. The future holds more change, more adaptation, different or better expressions, situations beyond our wildest imagination. We intend to continue growing in the craft and furthering our understanding of our own original intention. This is all very exciting to me.

As far as challenges —well, they’re good for the soul! These days I often find myself painting in extremely high temperatures or slightly above freezing, and I smile because that’s what I’ve chosen for myself, directly or indirectly. Then came the part where I had to learn to speak up for what I want to experience, and teach clients how to treat me. This led to the decision to work with whom we want to work with, as opposed to having income be the motivator. It’s all a character building exercise. Working together as a couple is also an active challenge because we’re both strong and think differently, but every project brings us closer in unprecedented ways, both as collaborators and as a couple. Our original intention—the “why we’re doing what we’re doing”—always brings us to the center, where important decisions are made with confidence in our shared passion for bringing a positive, uplifting message to the people.

If you had a friend visiting you, what are some of the local spots you’d want to take them around to?
If my very-motivated-to-do-things best friend came to visit West Palm for a weekend I would do the following: I would take them to Celis Produce for breakfast, the spot where we painted our first community mural, and also home of the Tata sandwich. They also have amazing smoothies and coffee. Then we’d go to the Sculpture Garden at the Society of the 4 Arts in Palm Beach Island for a beautiful stroll in a well-manicured tropical garden, and likely walk along the intracoastal for some beautiful sights of downtown West Palm. Then we’d go to Worth Avenue to check out the cool alleys hiding lots of interesting sculpture, walk to the clocktower, and spend a little while at the beach. After that we’d go to Grandview Market in the warehouse district of West Palm for an awesome salad or açaí bowl at Josie’s, relax to some nice music and soak in Grandview’s very social atmosphere. To walk off the lunch we’d cross the street to walk around beautiful Flamingo Park and Howard Park, then head to the Pumphouse Pouratorium, a ‘you gotta see it to believe it’ coffee house also in the warehouse district for a little pick-me-up. If my dear friend is not tired of the subtropical green scene, I’d take her to Mounts Botanical Gardens for some conversation in beautiful green areas. Afterwards we’d decide we’re going to eat a massive amount of food because we’ve walked a lot and head to Rosemary Square to Planta, a vegan restaurant with some of the most amazing sushi I’ve ever had, to include my pre-vegan days. Then we’d walk across to The Green Shoppe, a neat pop-up garden shop worth the visit. We’d get in the car and head over to Christopher’s Kitchen in Palm Beach Gardens, an out-of-this-world vegan restaurant, for a proper healthy meal (I would recommend the pizza!) No worries, the pizza here will hug her stomach and tell her it loves her. After the meal we’d head to Juno Beach for a sundown beach stroll. Assuming we still don’t need to rest, we’d change in the car and head over to downtown West Palm Beach, where we’d check out Hullabaloo (out in the back there’s this little vintage bus with tables that’s a whole vibe), we’d walk up and down Clematis and to the water front. If it’s Christmas we’d spend some time by Sandi, our sand Christmas tree, which usually has light shows or other cool seasonal things around it. Because by now it’s night-time we’d go to Respectable Street, the longest running nightclub in the Southeast, and we’d dance to house music in the back patio with laid-back crowd. Then we’d head to Spazio for more electronic sounds.

The following day we’d head down south to Miami for everything Miami has to offer. I always feel like a tourist there, so I really don’t know where we’re going or what we’re doing. Go with the flow kind of day.

The Shoutout series is all about recognizing that our success and where we are in life is at least somewhat thanks to the efforts, support, mentorship, love and encouragement of others. So is there someone that you want to dedicate your shoutout to?
Heartfull shoutout to the unsung heroes that support the public arts. Behind every mural I’ve worked on there’s a team of individuals that love their communities enough to bring public art to it. Sometimes they’re in organizations that go by different names, like Art in Public Places, Main Street, Business Improvement District, etc. Sometimes they’re city/town/village employees who push for art programs and get past the red tape (also shoutouts to those who can’t get past the red tape—I feel you.)

See, all I usually have to do is show up and paint. But before that happens they have to procure funding, get permits, gather ideas, host the artist, deal with supplies and equipment, secure and prepare the site, find vegan restaurants for us, etc. All behind the scenes and without receiving any public accolades. It’s such a wonderful pleasure to work with people who are passionate about serving others, and we’re fortunate to have met so many of them.

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