Jack Bride is a Toronto-based artist from Calgary whose work has a kind of dichotomy. You may have seen his landscape paintings of starry nights and landscapes, as his artwork is a thoughtful reflection of human nature, relationships, and the ever-present influence of the universe. He combines these elements to create a compelling artistic vision that encourages introspection and fosters a deeper understanding of ourselves. In fact, his work stands as a testament to the power of art to connect us to the cosmos and to each other.
As part of the tapestry of interconnected narratives that weave together astrology, artistic expression, the cyclical nature of full moons, and the enduring appeal of comics, Bride’s watercolor work offers a glimpse into a creative mind deeply engaged with the cosmos and the human experience.
Bride’s artistic journey uses the influence of astrology, which are a framework for exploring themes of human nature, relationships, and the ever-shifting tides of fate. It’s partly a metaphorical exploration of how cosmic energies might influence individual journeys. He sees astrology not as a rigid system of prediction, but as a source of symbolism and inspiration, a language for understanding the complex dance of human existence.
The cycles of the moon play a significant role in Bride’s work. He frequently depicts full moons, not just as visual elements, but as symbolic representations of transformation and change. The full moon’s intensity, its illumination, its association with emotional highs and lows, all resonate with the emotional arcs of his characters, reflecting the universal human experience. Bride’s style is distinct, blending elements of graphic novel art with a touch of surrealism. His color palettes are vibrant and evocative, often reflecting a liveliness, while the use of linework is dynamic and expressive, conveying movement and energy. Bride speaks about his artwork, astrology, the upcoming year of the Snake and some stories behind his comics.
First, your birth chart. What’s your sun, moon and rising?
Jack Bride: Pisces sun, Pisces moon, Virgo rising.
How does astrology play a role in your art and comics?
Astrology can be useful as a catalyst for the theme of an artwork, a way to contextualize, and other times I’ll toy with it, poking fun at its parlance of fatalism. Objectively, I like to use the node points of astrology and astronomy as deadlines, trying to finish a work coinciding with a full moon, solstice, a specific zodiac sign, etc. Subjectively, I will use topical events to craft a narrative, such as the paranoia of staring at the eclipse, or the anticipated chaotic reversal as a planet enters retrograde.
Can you talk about your watercolor series?
This large watercolour series actually began with an astrology-related commission, an illustration based on the astrological charts of my girlfriend’s nephews. I enjoyed the process of that work so much that I immediately made a second painting, using a similar composition but replacing all the elements with my own characters and symbols. One work led to the next, and each piece has its own ratio of linear to non-linear narrative structure.
How is astrology a map?
Ultimately I see astrology as one of many maps to understand the human condition, in a way that can feel larger than ourselves. It places our sense of self in a season, with a family of archetypes and a symphony of harmony and conflict. I usually settle on a map versus territory analogy; you can study a map as thoroughly as you like, but facing the territory that the map illustrates is flush with complexity.
When did you get into making comics and do you show them as art?
Comics were one of the earliest art forms that made me want to get better at drawing. I would try to mimic my favourite comics and wonder how the creators developed such specific worlds. The same with video games, particularly the concept art behind a game’s development. It was inspiring to discover real art materials were used to create a game’s universe, before it was digitized and locked into code. As a teenager, I learned that I enjoyed video games more by watching friends play them, so I could take in the design more fully without having to spaz-out on triggered survival instincts.
Do you show comics as artwork?
I do show comics as art, I think the first time was in 2007 at the Gladstone Hotel in Toronto. I hung an assortment of comic strips salon-style, and viewers could meander through, reading as much or as little as they wanted. I’ve always kept cartooning and writing as a part of my art practice, it ebbs and flows in and out of my work. For a while I had a zine called “Illusory Self,” which ran for nine issues over two years. I became sick of it and printed a final issue where all the characters met their doom, ending on a Shakespearean note.
Do you still create self-published zines?
Most of my self published work since then had been a series of one-offs, as I’d start to feel confined by the panelling and need to break free into other mediums. However, this series of watercolours became a way to create comic-like narratives, within making a painting, while leaving room for abstraction. One piece takes at least a month to make, and it’s the closest I’ve come to incorporating my many creative disciplines into one series.
I see an Alex Grey meets Robert Crumb vibe. Am I somewhat right?
I’ll go for the double negative and say you’re not wrong! Both artists have had an influence on me, and your citing them does make for two ends of a spectrum. The dichotomy they offer is one of aether versus density; Grey has his shimmering encounters with beings of light, and Crumb his polluted terrain of base humour through deplorable characters. There is a speck of each in the other, too. Grey will give homage to weighty subjects of darkness, delusion, and sorrow, while Crumb finds ways to voice manic wisdom, through characters like Mr Natural. I’d love to watch them sit down together for a few hours, but only if Jim Jarmusch films it.
Where is the dichotomy in your work?
In terms of dichotomy, there is a classical romantic approach to my watercolours, insofar as romantics reach both high and low. I want the mystic lightness of truth, beauty, and even innocence, and on the other hand I will include elements of chaos, illusion and fallibility. It’s like trusting in the genius of Wile E. Coyote and simultaneously loving his inevitable failures. There is also the idea of Earth being ground zero for angels and demons, where every day as humans, we have a role to play in whose influence we are making manifest. Some of my work deals with this kind of struggle, and the degrees to which it can be seen clearly by the characters. Almost none of the characters are actually human, but they often grapple with human problems. So far I have covered sibling rivalry, false prophets, redemption, straying from one’s path, and having a nemesis.
Why are new moons and the moon cycle in general integral to this series?
The moon is something that everyone can relate to; I always love in cinema and theatre when they depict the moon in the night sky three or four times larger than life. There is something about that that sets the stage thoroughly. Formally speaking, having a large and obvious shape to draw in the viewer provides some relief for how complex other areas are and, having that large shape be the moon, gives clearance for whatever happens in that scene to be of magical significance. We all know the age-old relation of a full moon and exaggerated behaviour. I use it as something everyone can understand, so other elements of the work can thrive as idiosyncrasy. A new moon can be just as effective; it allows the stars to shine brightly, while giving the events on Earth a quieter, internal feel. Plus I enjoy painting it as a shadow.
You have a lot of moons in your watercolor series!
The consistent feature of the moon in this series is somewhat of a baseline. It’s our closest planet, yet it retains archaic mystery. It can function as a familiar place in these works, while other paintings venture further out to different planets in our solar system. I tend to delve into each planet’s characteristics, too, particularly the lore associated with them by the Ancient Greeks. But I don’t treat it like rules to strictly follow. It’s more interesting to see Atlas if suddenly he is holding up planet Jupiter instead of Earth, or to encounter Pluto as an emissary for artificial intelligence, as envisioned by the “Minotaur in the Labyrinth.”
What moon sign do you find yourself to be most productive in?
I think my favourite is the Scorpio full moon. The way it’s coupled with the Spring and Taurus season, it makes for a great landscape of new, pleasurable, budding life, mixed with the dangerous side of sensuality lurking and tempting from the shadows. It’s like enjoying a fragrant, beautiful bouquet of roses, as the thorns pierce into your hands. The height of Spring and Fall are always my favourite times for creativity.
What is next for you in 2025?
I’ll be continuing this series, while keeping a practice of making more traditional landscape paintings. Part of this year will involve looking for new venues to feature my work! I showed a few of them at Toronto’s Queen Mother restaurant in a group show last Fall. It was a great fit, the restaurant is from 1978 and they have a framed astrology chart on the wall from their opening night (the restaurant is a Scorpio). That show also became the first sale from this series, one depicting a new moon and a sleeping snake.
Anything else?
I also have a mural project in Calgary, Alberta, for a friend’s performance about the Calgary Boxing Club. Over ten years ago, I traded painting a mural on the outside of the club in exchange for boxing classes, so my friend wants me to repaint it as part of her performance.
I feel like I am finally stepping out of exhibiting exclusively online, a habit that I’d established during the pandemic. I became a little too used to that process, what with me being born under a shy Pisces new moon, and all.
Will the upcoming Lunar year of the Snake be good for you?
I’ll go ahead and say yes! Oddly enough, the aforementioned original boxing mural was done during our last year of the Snake in 2013. That was a tumultuous time. The Water Snake. I recall reading up on it as a time of being pushed past one’s limits, which did fit. I was living in Calgary, which has a river running through the middle of the city, and a once-in-a-hundred-year flood took place. The river swelled, caused massive damage, and even changed the landscape in some areas. The river itself became the water snake! I painted during the flood, hearing the rushing river not far from my studio door (It was also a super full moon, keeping with our theme). I’d sent the paintings to local papers, so it was also a time of putting my work out there involving the press. Some friends helped me turn the artwork into screen prints and we were able to generate a bit of flood relief through sales. This year being a Wood Snake, well, I’m not going to look that up, haha! Lately I prefer to pray for the best possible outcome, rather than try and forecast future events. I’ll miss it being the year of the Dragon. A snake is like a dragon with all of its appendages smoothed off, like what happened to the serpent in the book of Genesis.
Follow Jack Bride on Instagram @jack_bride_
Photo of Jack Bride by Alice Xue.
