If Spurs Could Draw
Of All the Things I’ve Ever Known & Same Sun by Brandon Owen
Commerce Gallery, Lockhart, Texas
https://www.thecommercegallery.com/brandon-owen
https://www.instagram.com/finallybowen
April 28, 2025
Walking into an art gallery is like what I imagine playing a game of Russian Roulette is like: either you’re going to get an experience that will drastically change you, or you’re going to be left wanting more. It’s always a voracious activity for me, like walking into a bookstore: the endless possibilities thrill me, I go in wanting to find that one special piece that will change my life. A similar thrill can be found in roller coasters or watching scary movies. Humans like to be reminded that we’re alive through experiences that arouse our senses to the extreme, whether it be through fear, excitement or just anticipation. Anticipation and eagerness were exactly what I was feeling upon walking through the doors of Commerce Gallery for the first time, craving that my visit would end in triumph. I found the gem I was looking for: an artist taking cowboy culture by the horns, giving it his own unique spin through an inventive new style of line, and a keen eye for graphic design.
The Commerce Gallery is far removed from your typical art museums, feeling more like an upscale barn with its pristine wooden floors and great open space than a proper art gallery. (But then what is a “proper” art gallery supposed to look like anyway? We seem to have a notion that an art gallery has to look a particular way: clean lines, modern and sometimes cold, where a person or a pamphlet is always there to guide you. But really, wasn’t it always supposed to be about us being alone with the art, about our initial reactions to the art, with no one or nothing to tell us how to feel?) Located in the heart of Lockhart’s downtown, the gallery focuses on exhibiting Western artists. Its lofty ceilings give you the ample space with which to thoughtfully take in a work of art, as the artists who created them passionately intended, as I do when I create my own art. In the front room upon walking in, the creaminess of acrylic paint in shades of pastel and saturated desert tones behest you to come closer, deeper. The modern works of art that have been chosen for the main walls feel surprisingly approachable. Curiosity took me into the more enclosed space towards the back of the gallery, where an office, open kitchen space, and some rooms create a make-shift studio/gallery, warmingly effable. Like an art lover’s dream, framed works and canvases were scattered lovingly on every square inch in this back section. It was here that I found Brandon Owen.
Commerce Gallery in Lockhart, Texas
Staring back at me in an open section towards the middle part of the gallery was a large piece in a simple but arresting palette of black and white that caused me to stop me in my tracks and hold my breath for a few extra moments, allowing me the thrill I was seeking when walking into Commerce Gallery. Recalling the impactful effect of a black charcoal drawing, a framed artwork was staring back at me with the rugged outline of a cowboy on his saddle pictured from waist up, atop his horse, with one hand on his reins and the other gloved hand splayed out as if in motion. It exhilarated me, as I fell into the deep velvety background behind him, vast like a pitch-black night sky undisturbed by city lights. It was a simple subject (one that in my opinion has frankly been over-done especially here in Texas), but it had been entirely reinvented. (Western art has been created for centuries, and I feel like I’ve already seen every take on it in my 37 years of life: cowboy with lasso, cowboy on horse, sunset landscape.) The work’s slick, tar-like lines recalled a medium at once familiar to me but that I couldn’t place; a velveteen, creamy material like oil pastel that found itself at odds with the jarring, prickly lines they created. Fred, a volunteer at Commerce Gallery, had witnessed the effect this work of art had had on me. Through him, I learned that this artist was a rare non-Texan that the gallery promoted: Brandon Owen from Kentucky and the work was appropriately titled These Hands. And so began my dive into this present-day gaucho, whose work saliently stood out to me in a round-up of other talented-in-their-own right artists within Commerce Gallery.
These Hands, 72×60 inches, acrylic and oil stick on canvas, Brandon Owen
Brandon Owen’s was born in California and has lived in Kentucky and Tennessee, states of the South that he has credited for the western subject that dominates much, if not all, of his work. His journey as an artist began in California, when he designed skateboards for his close friends and early admirers, and worked as a graphic designer. Graphic design is a primary theme in the other pieces by Owen at Commerce Gallery. He uses plain shapes like circles to make a striking statement, like in Sun Chaser, another black and white composition with its sharp, thorny lines but this time rendering a Native American in full regalia. Sun Chaser depicts the figure still atop his horse, in which the background has been switched from black to a dirty yellow of sundown with a simple glowing orange sun. Owen’s backgrounds are often minimalistic with just a touch of color-blocking, something that is typical of his work to this point, a strong technique that allows for a simple background to emphasize the primary aspects of his work instead of competing with them. This technique is exhibited in his If You Were the Moon, You’d Be Here Too, Same Sun, and Light Sun, https://www.thecommercegallery.com/brandon-owen . Owen has reinvented the Western art theme with his barbed, snaggy lines of oil pastel, reminiscent of spur rowels (you know, the little wheel mechanisms on the back of a cowboy’s spurs), if they could draw. I highly recommend viewing his work in person, where you might be able to find a few trace smudges of fingerprint in black oil stick, a touch that although probably accidental, makes his work all the more rugged and interesting. The final touch, a simple pine frame encasing each of Owen’s works, contributes to the rustic feel of his subject matter, spotlighting the work and allowing each piece to expand out beyond its framework.
Sun Chaser, 60×72 inches, acrylic and oil stick on canvas, Brandon Owen
Owen explained to me that he “takes inspiration from other artists… apart from the typical Western art. Artists like Raymond Pettibon and Philip Guston.” If you’re unfamiliar with these artists, Pettibon is famous for his punk-rock style comic art with an American theme (think baseball legends and political commentary), and Guston brings his creations alive with bright color and abstract-expressionist painting. Brandon’s interpretation of Pettibon’s sketchy lines within his comics take on a whole new meaning as oil pastels on top of acrylic, but somehow still retain the movement and rhythm of ink. Every scratchy line hums with gesticulation, even in his landscapes. It’s like we are seeing the fluctuations of a desert landscape after a gang of mustangs has bolted through under Owen’s expert hand. The grasslands still feel alive and energetic from his signature lines, and also create unity within his series. One can also see a very intentional use of color in both Pettibon’s and Guston’s work, (Pettibon’s ink portraits of American presidents where he uses color only for the flags or flag motifs, and Guston’s preference for a red-pinkish palette in many of his paintings). It’s something that Owen has adopted for his own content but made completely his own, perhaps something he’s interpreted for What A Day: https://www.thecommercegallery.com/brandon-owen , and Ride All Day, https://www.thecommercegallery.com/brandon-owen where he applies color sparingly and tends to stick with a palette of primary colors.
It’s because I loved Owen’s work so much that I offer only this criticism: it needs more range, pun intended. What I would like to see in the future is more variety in subject; cowboy culture has many different facets that he can incorporate. (I loved that he’s starting to touch on this with the work titled Sun Chaser, and a couple of works with vases and landscapes that had already sold when I visited the gallery). Maybe incorporating desert plants, sunsets, old cowboy traditions like making campfire coffee, Native American blankets (his toothed lines are perfect to pay homage to the native craft, don’t you think?); the list is endless. While a good artist capitalizes on what he does best, and shouldn’t fix something that isn’t broken, one can only have so many cowboy stills in their collection; at some point it becomes redundant. His current fan base will appreciate his broadening, and he will simultaneously attract new followers. I would love to see more of a pop-art influence in his next collection (more of the graphic design and comic style). With that said, I can already see the brand Owen is leaving on modern art, and it’s undoubtedly significant.
Chief Black, 48 x 48 inches, acrylic and oil stick, Brandon Owen
This leads me to another point of critique that I know will undoubtedly arise once Brandon’s work explodes and more people view it: is his work cultural commercialism, and if so, should he re-consider his theme? When I look at Owen’s work, it breaks the mold and fights against homogenization of Western art. It’s playful, energetic. He’s found a way that’s completely his own to portray a subject that has been dear to him since his childhood, and he does it in a way that shows sincere appreciation for Native American culture. He makes sure to never include stereotypical depictions, and in artworks where he is depicting Native American people, he makes them the sole subject and allows them to shine in all their glory; (here I’m referencing Chief Black and Sun Chaser). Whether consciously or not, he’s avoided the interaction of cowboys and indigenous people in one single composition, which I think has probably been done consciously out of respect. (It should also be noted that the majority of Owen’s oeuvre is cowboy-related.) It is evident in his work that he pays homage to the native people that were here before us, exalting them with color and sort of quiet regality. The fact is that this theme is popular and that Owen does it well, and that it allows him to make a living. His work encourages a thoughtfulness about Native American culture in pointing to a part of our history that we often choose to forget but is still very much alive for certain people, that very much happened whether we like to remember or not, and silently affirms the value we should hold for the natives who were here before us. But is Brandon Owen profiting off of the culture? The short answer is yes. But if you get to know his work, his style, and talk to him personally, it becomes clear that Owen has a deep love and respect for the Native American culture, and wants to exult it, not simply profit from it. One might say he walks the fine line of culture appropriation and cultural commercialism, but the fact is that this will always be a conversation that comes up with any art that is cultural. In the powerful words of Coco Fusco, “A reasoned conversation about how artists and curators of all backgrounds represent collective traumas and racial injustice would, in an ideal world, be a regular occurrence in art museums and schools. As artists and as human beings, we may encounter works we do not like and find offensive. We may understand artworks to be indicators of racial, gender, and class privilege — I do, often. But presuming that calls for censorship and destruction constitute a legitimate response to perceived injustice leads us down a very dark path.” Without work that is provocative, we would have hardly any art. And if Owen’s work is provocative to you, I think you’re missing the point.
With Of All the Things I’ve Ever Known and Same Sun, Owen gives us a series that has unity, movement, and rhythm. In his black and white creations, value is king. Without his signature line, the rustic feel of the desert and its cowboys wouldn’t be nearly as poignant; this is what makes his art so original. Owen’s most recent work, uploaded a few days after I finished writing this, includes new compositions reminiscent of graphic novels with his signature line and a more vibrant color palette. He also recently lent his hand to Leon Bridges and Charley Crockett’s tour flyers, giving them a fun, animated mood that recalls that of old-time, 1950’s musical flyers, with their loud use of graphic design to catch the viewer’s eye, but appropriately updated for 2025. We need Brandon Owen’s artwork to remind us that art can be playful, fun, innovative. His work has the power to promote understanding and intelligent discourse of our American history, it’s the reminder of a past that we often try to forget, but with mistakes that we can learn from to be better for our country’s future. To those that listen, it can help us foster a deeper understanding of not just the Native American culture, but other cultures aside from our own. I fully believe that this is Owen’s intention, and to that I say: way to go partner.
Leon Bridges & Charley Crockett 2025 tour flyer, Brandon Owen
Author Bio
Savannah Gallegos is currently an Art History major and French minor at Texas State University, with plans to move to Europe to pursue a Master’s and Doctorate’s in Art History. She loves to read about Baroque and European art, art criticisms by Peter Schjeldahl and Jerry Saltz, spending time with her 3 rescues dogs, and drawing.