Exploring Mental Health and Masculinity Through Art: An Interview with Spring Break Jake
Jake Kenobi, working under the moniker Spring Break Jake, is a self-taught, Bend, Oregon-based painter and former Artist-in-Residence with Scalehouse Arts. He creates heavily textured work using the juxtaposition of tropical imagery and colors with macabre, Memento Mori-style illustrations. Jake’s work aims to discuss the reality of our collective mental health, shining a light on the often unseen and unspoken parts of our psyches that, if revealed, could foster a genuine sense of solidarity and empathy. He focuses on challenging patriarchal masculinity and reducing stigmas around vulnerability and emotional expression. The multi-layered messaging of his paintings is reflected in the physical layers of his work, from the adherence of found materials for added depth to the numerous coats of acrylic paints that take on an almost sculptural effect. His work has been exhibited down the West Coast, from Seattle to San Diego, with upcoming showings in San Francisco, Los Angeles, and Reno in 2024.
Website: https://springbreakjake.com/
Print Shop: https://springbreakjake.com/print-shop
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/springbreak.jake
Your work combines vibrant tropical imagery with darker, macabre elements. What inspired you to explore this unique juxtaposition, and what message do you hope to convey through this contrast?
Admittedly, it all started as purely aesthetic taste from when I was a kid. I grew up listening to punk music and always gravitated toward skull graphics and the look of gritty black-and-white gig posters. I was also fortunate enough to go on family trips to Florida most years, which ended up being some of my happiest memories, so a love for all things tropical also stuck with me. It wasn’t until I started combining those two worlds in my illustration work that I began to draw parallels to the Memento Mori messages I wanted to discuss in my paintings.
Genuinely accepting that you can’t have the good without the bad, or life without death, has had an immensely positive impact on my life’s trajectory and outlook. Viewing life’s finiteness has been the biggest motivation for working on my mental health and caring deeply about the well-being of my loved ones. The hope is that my art will give people even a small glimpse of the relief that comes when you switch from fearing death to being grateful to be alive at all.
Mental health is a central theme in your art. Can you share a personal experience or story that led you to focus on this subject in your work?
I’ve lived with varying degrees of depression, anxiety, and insomnia for 20+ years. I think the bout of depression that most shaped my outlook was during high school. For roughly three years, not a day went by that I didn’t have some amount of suicidal ideation. Coming out on the other side gave me a vastly different perspective on life.
One of the main things that got me through was feeling solidarity with other people being vulnerable about their mental health, whether through music, art, movies, or really any creative medium. The ongoing experience has ultimately taught me empathy and that everyone around us could be (and probably is) going through challenges we’ll never know about.
It’s now a big part of the reason I paint so many skeletons—simply because I like using images of our physical insides as a representation of our mental or emotional insides.
You challenge traditional notions of patriarchal masculinity in your paintings. How do you hope your art will influence viewers' perceptions of masculinity and vulnerability?
It sounds dramatic, but as far as I can tell, the core of every societal problem facing us today can be traced to men who have been taught that their only value as human beings comes from how much money and power they can accrue. Take climate change, for example. At the end of the day, there’s a relatively small group of people, mostly men, who have the money and power to reverse it right now, but they choose not to out of a fear of losing that wealth and control.
Simply put, I hope that as a straight cis man being as vulnerable as I can about my mental health through my paintings, I can show other men that there are healthier ways to exist in the world—based on compassion instead of greed.
Your paintings often incorporate found materials, giving them a sculptural quality. Can you describe your creative process when selecting and integrating these materials into your artwork?
This might be my favorite part of my process! I start by hand-building the wood panels I paint on, so I’m really in touch with the piece right from the beginning. As I’m gessoing the panel, I love to use it as glue to adhere various materials like paper and cardboard, so a light amount of three-dimensionality is added right from the start. The idea came from my desire to further convey the many layers we all have but don’t often share. Once the numerous layers of paint are on the piece, some of the material is fully hidden yet always present—just like parts of ourselves.
As a self-taught artist, what have been some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced in your artistic journey, and how have you overcome them?
The biggest challenges I’ve faced have been internal—mainly self-doubt, low self-worth, and imposter syndrome. At the risk of oversimplifying the journey, I’ve overcome those feelings largely through therapy. I’ve been with the same therapist for six years now, and it’s been wild to look back and see how much my inner voice has changed, how much more I believe in myself in a healthy, compassionate way, and how much better I can handle rejection and setbacks. Therapy can be expensive, but I can’t recommend it enough!
You've had exhibitions up and down the West Coast and have upcoming shows in major cities like San Francisco, Los Angeles, and Reno. How has the reception to your work varied across different locations, and what have you learned from these diverse audiences?
At the risk of sounding full of myself, the reception has been wonderful in every city! I don’t mean to say I’ve sold a ton at every show, but it’s been an incredible and invaluable experience getting to travel and meet people who really connect with my work. While the aesthetic I paint in isn’t for everyone, I’d like to think the messaging around mental health and the hidden aspects of ourselves is fairly universal, so with each show, there’s always at least a few people who resonate with what my work is conveying. If anything, I’ve learned that we’re all going through things no one may ever know about, so you can’t go wrong treating people with kindness, respect, and compassion.
Your residency at Scalehouse Arts seems to have been a significant milestone in your career. How did this experience influence your work, and what advice would you give to other emerging artists seeking similar opportunities?
Get to know yourself on a deep level—understand the real reasons behind why you are the way you are—and then get out of your comfort zone! Getting to know myself through therapy has been pivotal in knowing what opportunities I truly want to pursue and how to allocate my time. It’s also helped me build the confidence to apply to residencies, art fairs, and to contact people and organizations I maybe never would have because I’d already convinced myself they’d say no.
