Brian Howard – Artist and Craftsman

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Brian Howard makes things the old way; by hand, with attention, and with a stubborn refusal to separate art from the physical world. He didn’t exactly choose the path; rather dragged into it sideways, probably by curiosity and a refusal to sit still. His artistic trajectory resists containment within any singular medium, instead unfolding as a continuous engagement with process, material, and experience.
 

It started in a darkroom, soaked in chemicals and shadows. Learning black and white photography when light and chemistry still mattered more than convenience at Colorado Mountain College. Somewhere in there, under the influence of National Geographic’s David Hiser, he picked up the dangerous habit of trusting his instincts.

From there, things escalated. Howard’s subsequent movement into woodworking and sculpture reflects not a departure, but an expansion of this inquiry.
 

The carved carousel horse, an act both whimsical and deeply traditional, produced in Tennessee under Bud Ellis, situates him within a lineage of craft. While his later study of bronze casting at the Anderson Ranch with John T. Scott, a man with a Genius Grant and the kind of presence that leaves a mark, introduces a more monumental and expressive dimension, shaping forms that carry life in their weight.  

Howard came out of that forging sculptures like Hasty, the avalanche dog—muscle, motion, and raw spirit locked in bronze. His sculpture exemplifies this synthesis, embodying both structural rigor and kinetic vitality, and feels less like an object and more like a presence.

 

In addition to his studio practice, Howard has contributed to large-scale art fabrication and installation, including work with the Aspen Art Museum. His role in fabricating work further complicates the distinction between artist and artisan, positioning him within the collaborative and logistical frameworks that sustain contemporary art. His experience in art logistics has provided him with a comprehensive understanding of the lifecycle of fine art, from creation through exhibition. 

 

He came to music the way people come to rivers; by accident and then completely. Crashing into the story like a late-night accident; a bass guitar mysteriously appearing. Brian teaches himself, finds friends willing to let him play along, and now he’s playing baritone guitar, stacking bass and melody into something dense and alive. It’s not academic; it’s instinctive, raw. The music is not as an isolated discipline but as an extension of his formal concerns; rhythm, structure, and improvisation. His use of the baritone guitar suggests an interest in collapsing boundaries between roles, much as he does across visual media.

 

His printmaking might be the purest expression of all this. In his current focus on monoprinting from hand-carved linocuts, each one slightly off, slightly different, totally intentional in its unpredictability. No mass production. No safety net. A controlled kind of chaos. The kind you don’t fix; you ride it. Embracing variability and impermanence. Each print resists repetition, foregrounding the act of making as an event rather than a product. The work is about what cannot be repeated.

 

Across all disciplines, Howard’s work reflects a commitment to innovation grounded in traditional techniques. It’s not one career. It’s a continuous act of making; loud, physical, and unapologetically real. Shaped by time, effort, and a refusal to fake it. For Howard, art is not an object but an ongoing act. And that’s the point. The work isn’t neat. It’s alive.

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