Eric Gullickson of Mohonk Mountain House Talks About Why Ryan Cronin
“At a time when the world continues to be increasingly complex, Ryan’s work for me represents a more simple, raw and refreshingly honest application. It’s interesting how people often want to make sense out of a piece of art or a particular painting, they seem uncomfortable unless they understand it and make terms with what it represents for them – this is not how I choose to interpret Ryan’s work. I appreciate his unapologetic in-your-face style – it reminds me to take more time enjoying my own creative process and in turn rely less on other's interpretations of the outcome.”
Eric Gullickson, Vice President and General Manager
Mohonk Mountain House
Rhett Miller, Singer/Songwriter & Frontman for the Old 97s Talks About Why Ryan Cronin
"Ryan Cronin is a weirdo. Through and through. The real deal.
I moved to the Hudson Valley in 2003 because my wife and I had fallen in love with the bucolic tranquility of the region. It seemed like a great place to raise kids. But I worried that I wouldn't be able to find any quality weirdos.
I wound up shortly thereafter invited by a mutual friend to a party at the Cronin compound and couldn't believe my luck. Here was the best kind of weirdo, a SUPREMELY TALENTED weirdo.
Ryan Cronin doesn't paint for money or glory or acclaim. He paints because HE HAS TO. And his work has earned him money and glory and acclaim, but if it hadn't he would still be out there in his ramshackle studio slathering layers of Rustoleum onto 4'x4' wooden squares.
His work is deceptively simple, incorporating bold images and occasional provocative snippets of text. The Cronin that hangs in my living room is a window into an alternate universe, simultaneously familiar and surreal. A dreamlike quality permeates his style, offering fragmented, funky glimpses into our collective unconscious. I'm a huge fan.
This world of ours always needs more weirdos, but for now, thank god we have Ryan Cronin."
-Rhett Miller, Singer/Songwriter & Frontman for the Old 97s