The Earl McGrath gallery in New York is currently featuring Happy Idiot, a one-man show of Baseman’s new work. A wet dream disguised as a kid’s book, Happy Idiot muses on "unattainable desire" and told with happy snowmen, floating infinity girls, soft serve ice cream cones and a lot of water:

STRANGEco: How long have you been working on the Happy Idiot?
Gary Baseman: About a million years (laughs). No, officially about a year. I first drew the snowman in my sketchbook when I was in Japan last fall with Mark Ryden and Tim Biskup for our collaborative show Hello from Los Angeles. I named him the Happy Idiot on that trip as well, and asked everyone I could about how to write "Happy Idiot" in Japanese. You can see the sketch on my website now, it's the last page—it’s the original sketch next to calligraphy from a Kyoto temple.

When did it ultimately come together as the show?
I had been living with this image— the snowman holding the mermaid with his tongue wrapped around her— and kept coming back to it. I felt like there was a tale I wanted to tell with it. After my Piñata show in LA (I am Your Piñata at La Luz de Jesus Gallery, October 2002), Earl McGrath asked me to have a show at his gallery in New York. The "Happy Idiot" theme felt appropriate.

Can you describe some of the themes?
When people see it they think it’s very child-like. But it’s really an adult allegory about desire, longing, sex, the acceptance of man's attraction to unattainable beauty.

It starts with the main image of the snowman that has a face on each of his three segments. Kind of like the super ego, the ego and the id. The snowman is willing to melt himself down to have this mermaid live within his body of water. At first it seems very selfless and sweet, but the reality is that there's a dark side in this world of water. It isn't as pretty as it seems. You have the skeletons, the KKK ghosts who have no fear about grabbing the floating infinity girls (girls whose legs and arms connect and recur in the paintings) and take them away.

Also, the Happy Idiot’s alter ego— the Evil Genius— lives inside this body of water— he’s in the brown paintings. He looks as happy and as sweet as the snowman, but he's made of flesh and bones and you can see his veins pulsating through his body. He has no problem devouring the mermaid. He does it as naturally as the snowman is willing to melt himself.

All of this is dealing with the idealized view of attraction and love versus the more physical, darker aspect of sex. But done in a sweet way.

The ceramic sculpture in the center of the room is amazing. Did you do it yourself?
No, I had people that were better than me to do this. I worked with a sculptor and a ceramicist and a painter. I wanted it to have a real household nature. People think it’s a cookie jar. It looks sweet, at first, until you really look at what’s going on.

Can you tell us about your upcoming book?
I’ve been working on a 350 page book, titled Dumb Luck, which is coming out this Spring from Chronicle Books. The book mixes it all together. Artwork from my shows, illustration work, Teachers Pet… The goal is to make it so the reader doesn’t know what's an illustration and what’s a painting. Images of my work are juxtaposed with things from my collection— toys, my photo collection (particularly samples from my collection of photos of Halloween costumes from the 20s, 30s and 40s), quotations from friends… I wanted to create this sense of chaos and hopefully, by the end of the book, you can get a sense of how I think in my work.

Toys also seem like a major inspiration for you.
Yeah. I love toys. I have a collection of old advertising figures— the Michelin Man, Freddy Kilowatt, old Felix the Cat toys as well. I don't see them as toys, I see them as sculpture, as works of art that happened to be created in the 20s and 30s and 40s.

Pete the Pup from the 30s is another obsession of mine. I don't think he ever had a cartoon, so I see him as a failed cartoon character and use him as a personal analogy. I own like 14 or 15 of these guys. Any time I can find them, I will buy them.

Can you talk a little bit about other influences?
The inspiration comes from all over. I went to elementary school with Bob Clampett’s daughter. He was responsible for a lot of the Warner Brothers cartoons including Beany & Cecil, and is generally credited with creating Tweety Bird. Meeting him at age 12 was major— I could see that a living person could accomplish things like that.

I come from an Eastern European heritage, so I really identity with artists and painters that are very expressive and iconic; a lot of painters from the 30s and 40s; Mexican art and Day of the Dead; Japanese artists like Nara and Murakami; Saul Steinberg, Antoine Francois; humorists like Charles Adams and James Thurber, modern painters like Schnabel and Koons; friends like Mark Ryden, Tim Biskup, the Clayton Brothers, Shag; music like Elvis Costello and Leonard Cohen; John Lennon… there are always people who saved your life at different times.

You also seem to really embrace and get involved with new artists.
Because they’re exciting. Just looking at the realm of toys, I am amazed by what a lot of artists are doing. People like KAWS and Friends with You, I’m like holy shit- this is amazing art.

Your work is found in so many areas— fine art, toys, games, illustration, film & television, and it all seems to retain a real sense of legitimacy.
I have actually created a term for this— Pervasive Art. The notion is that as long as you stay true to your aesthetic, and have a strong sense of meaning, then the work can be appropriate in almost any medium— from print to TV to film to paintings to commerce. I think a lot of artists are doing this, and it’s my goal. It does mean that I often feel like I’m starting from scratch over and over again. Even though I’ve been around for a while, I always have to introduce myself to a new audience. This can be very frustrating, but the thing I’ve learned is that everyone has their blinders on and are involved in their own areas. So you can’t take things for granted. A large part of art is introducing people to your ideas, whether it’s a film or a painting, and hope that they will be affected by it.

It seems that the nature of being a pervasive artist would require this kind of constant re-introduction.
It does. It also requires respecting the audience that you’re addressing. For example, I would never put anything into either Teacher’s Pet or Cranium that would be inappropriate for kids. My paintings, on the other hand are completely inappropriate (laughs). They may be child like, but they’re completely for adults. You have to take risks-- sometimes you fall on your ass, sometimes you succeed.

I’m sure that you know when you have fallen, but it definitely seems like you’ve done everything right.
I held a lecture at the Art Director’s Club a couple of days ago, and someone yelled out, "you seem to have a midas touch with everything you do. " But if one hand is the midas touch, the other is full of dog feces. I have a character called "Dumb Luck", primarily from a show I did in Pasadena last year— a really happy rabbit that is thrilled to have a lucky rabbit’s foot and yet has a peg leg. We’re doing this as a figure with Critterbox Toys. This character embodies my philosophy in life, of working as hard as you can, and going after your dream and ultimately it’s all still up to dumb luck and there's always a price to pay.

Has there always been a "dumb luck" tradeoff with what you’ve accomplished?
Yeah, for sure, completely. Even working with Disney— it’s been really great, but I had to basically give away an organ. Coming from illustration, I usually get to maintain the rights to my art. With Teacher’s Pet, I had to sell them the rights to the characters. My art is still my art, but those characters are their property now. If I ever use them, I ask their permission to do so.

Does this also apply to your painting?
I’ve actually learned to handle this trade-off with painting, because the art gets sold. So with painting, it’s more about creating a work of art for the show itself. I want people to come to the space and experience the environment, and see the stories told in their entirety. In this case, I’m really happy with this body of work and the way the show look all around.

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Happy Idiot and Other Paintings of Unattainable Beauty
By Gary Baseman
Earl McGrath Gallery
20 W. 57th Street, New York, NY 10019
Through November 29, 2003

www.garybaseman.com