CSUN University News Clippings

Physics alum Christian Faur uses crayons to color his world

(March 30, 2009)

GRANVILLE — There are 4,800 crayons and about 25 shades of color in one of Christian Faur’s 20-by-20 inch works.

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Up close, they appear just that — rows and rows of vividly colored wax cylinders, each custom-tinted and hand-poured by the artist.

But step back, and like in an Impressionist painting, the dots suddenly form a cohesive landscape or surprisingly realistic visage of a solemn-eyed child.

An artist and educator, Faur has found an increasing following for his unusual artwork, which comprises his signature crayon art, as well as painting and fabric art.

His work has been exhibited at the Sherrie Gallery, Ohio Art League, and Gallery V in Columbus, and in shows in California, New York, Chicago and Massachusetts.

Faur came to Granville 10 years ago, when his wife joined the German department at Denison University. Later, Faur too became a Denison employee. He currently is director of collaborative technology, working with the fine arts departments to incorporate technology in their projects.

Although Faur always has had a passion for art, he never considered it his primary career.

“I grew up poor. One of the things I knew for sure was I wouldn’t get my education in art,” Faur said. “It’s really a hard life to be a full-time artist.”

Instead, he graduated with a degree in physics and minor in math from California State University, Northridge. In his free time, he experimented with encaustic painting, an ancient technique of painting with hot colored wax. The problem with the quick-drying process was it produced a rustic look, not the photorealistic effect he sought.

Faur tried assembling small pieces to gain control, but the result looked like a mosaic.

“I found the solution, which was to pixelate in a sense,” he said. “I had the idea that this shape right here (a crayon point) might solve the problem of the mosaic.”

His early works were black and white or monochromatic. In order to get enough shades of a single color — 25 — or to get the precise color he wants, Faur began making his own crayons, a mix of pigment and beeswax.

“The Forgotten Children” is a series of nine panels inspired by lost memories of Faur’s childhood. The son of a Hungarian mother, Faur is a first-generation American, born in the Hell’s Kitchen part of New York City. He lived in a French-speaking community until he was 6 years old, then moved to Chicago.

Suddenly transplanted in a place where he didn’t speak the language, Faur had to assimilate and forgot many of the names and experiences of his life in New York. “The Forgotten Children” represent children he could have known.

Across their monochromatic portraits march occasional blips of colored crayons; Faur said he added to color to emphasize the fact the art was built of crayons. However, he did not like that the pattern lacked meaning.

That was when he developed his color alphabet, a symbolic language in which colors represent letters. The bars of color spell out the children’s names, drawn randomly from census books.

Faur’s color language pops up in his other work as well. A dinner jacket that appeared at Sherrie Gallery is decorated in come-ons painted in color alphabet blocks.

Faur posted a color alphabet entry on Wikipedia and has received international response. A Japanese woman is designing jewelry based on his alphabet, and a British author has included it in his book.

Although Faur might approach his art with the methodical problem-solving of a mathematician, he clearly is obsessed with language and meaning, too.

He attempts to use media itself to convey his message: Crayons for kids portraits, a shredded Constitution for a piece critical of Guantanamo Bay detention camp, the dinner jacket to comment on societal attitudes.

Yet, he also is willing to challenge viewers in how they interpret things. He once typeset Hamlet in the color alphabet and placed a work of random colors beside it.

“How do you know if what you’re looking at has meaning,” he asked, “if you don’t have the key?”

Tiffany Aumann can be reached at (740) 328-8544 or taumann@newarkadvocate.com.

Publication: Newark Advocate - OH