I have never been particularly interested in giving my paintings ordinary names.
There is something about calling a painting Abstract Blue #1, Composition with Red, or simply Untitled that has always felt somewhat incomplete to me. Those titles may accurately describe what is hanging on the wall, but they don’t necessarily tell you anything about the idea, emotion, story, humor, memory, or possibility that might exist behind the work.
For me, a painting is never simply a painting.
It is an idea made physical.
And sometimes, that idea deserves a name.
This is why I deliberately give many of my works unconventional, suggestive, playful, mysterious, and occasionally amusing titles. A painting might be called Lady in Red, Drinks on a Friday, One Night Stand, End of Days, or something else entirely unexpected.
The title isn’t an afterthought.
In many cases, it is part of the artwork itself.
I Don’t Want to Tell You Exactly What to See
One of the things I enjoy most about abstract art is that it leaves room for the viewer.
I don’t necessarily want to tell you exactly what a painting represents. I want to give you something to look at, think about, interpret, and perhaps even argue with yourself about.
A suggestive title can be another doorway into that experience.
Imagine seeing an abstract painting dominated by red, black, and white. Without a title, you might see a landscape, a figure, a city, an explosion of emotion, or simply an arrangement of color and movement.
Then you discover that I called it Lady in Red.
Suddenly, you may begin looking at it differently.
Perhaps you see a figure that you didn’t notice before. Perhaps you imagine a person. Perhaps you think of a song, a relationship, an evening, or a particular memory.
The painting hasn’t changed.
But your experience of it has.
That’s what interests me.
The Title Can Become Part of the Work
I think of the title almost as another layer of paint.
The physical painting is one layer of the experience. The title adds another.
Sometimes the title reinforces what I was thinking when I created the work. Sometimes it provides a completely different direction. Sometimes it is deliberately ambiguous.
And sometimes I simply want the title to make someone smile.
I enjoy the idea that someone can encounter one of my paintings and have two reactions:
“I really like that painting.”
And then:
“Wait… that’s what you called it?”
That second reaction can be just as interesting as the first.
Art doesn’t always have to be solemn.
There can be humor, irony, romance, mystery, absurdity, provocation, and even a little mischief in contemporary art. I enjoy allowing those things into my work.
Why Not Just Call It “Untitled”?
There is absolutely nothing wrong with an artist calling a work Untitled. In fact, many great artists have done exactly that.
But personally, I find it limiting.
When I look at a finished painting, I usually have some association with it. Maybe something in the colors reminds me of a place. Maybe the composition suggests a particular feeling. Maybe the process of creating it triggered an unexpected idea. Sometimes the connection is obvious, and sometimes it is almost impossible to explain.
I would rather give the viewer something to work with.
Untitled closes one door.
A provocative or suggestive title opens several.
It gives the viewer a starting point without necessarily giving them the destination.
Sometimes the Best Title Comes Later
Another interesting part of my process is that I don’t always know the final title when I begin a painting.
A painting can change considerably while I am creating it. What begins as one idea can become something completely different.
The same thing can happen with the title.
I might live with a painting for weeks, months, or even years before deciding that its original name no longer feels right.
And sometimes I change it.
I don’t see that as a contradiction.
I see it as part of the creative process.
A painting is a physical object, but my relationship with that object can continue evolving long after the paint has dried.
As I look at the work over time, I may discover something I didn’t recognize initially. A new association emerges. A different idea becomes more appropriate. A title that once seemed perfect suddenly feels ordinary.
So I give it a new one.
Changing a Title Doesn’t Change the Painting
I think there is sometimes an assumption that once an artwork has been completed, every decision surrounding it must remain permanently frozen.
I don’t necessarily see things that way.
The physical work remains the same. Its history remains part of its history. But my interpretation of it can evolve.
Changing a title can be a way of acknowledging that evolution.
In some cases, an older title may still have meaning to me. In other cases, I may decide that a new title better captures what the work has become in my mind.
It’s similar to revisiting an old photograph.
The photograph hasn’t changed.
You have.
And because you have changed, you may see something different when you look at it years later.
The Risk of an Unconventional Title
There is also a practical downside to doing this.
A title can influence how people feel about a work.
If I call a painting End of Days, for example, there may be collectors who love the title and immediately connect with it. There may also be people who don’t want something with such a dark or ominous name hanging in their home.
Likewise, a title such as One Night Stand might amuse one person and completely turn off another.
I understand that.
In fact, I accept it.
I would rather each painting have a distinct personality than give every work a commercially neutral name simply because it might appeal to the largest possible audience.
I’m not trying to manufacture interchangeable decorative objects.
I’m creating individual works.
And individuality sometimes comes with a little risk.
Every Painting Should Have Its Own Identity
Ultimately, this is why I care so much about titles.
If every painting is an original, then I want every painting to feel original in every sense of the word.
The physical artwork is unique.
The idea behind it is unique.
The experience of creating it is unique.
And the title should be capable of being unique too.
A painting called Composition No. 17 may be perfectly respectable, but it doesn’t tell me much about the personality of the work.
A painting called Drinks on a Friday immediately creates a possibility.
What happened on that Friday?
Who was there?
Was it a celebration? A disaster? A first date? A last date? Was it sophisticated, chaotic, romantic, funny, or completely uneventful?
You don’t necessarily know.
And that’s the point.
The title creates another piece of the puzzle.
A Painting Can Have a Sense of Humor
I also think artists sometimes take titles too seriously.
Art can be intellectually challenging and still be fun.
It can be beautiful and ridiculous at the same time.
It can make you think and make you laugh.
I enjoy that freedom.
When I name a painting, I’m not necessarily trying to provide an academic explanation of it. Sometimes I’m simply trying to capture a feeling or an idea in a few words.
And sometimes I want to leave the viewer wondering whether I’m being completely serious.
Perhaps I am.
Perhaps I’m not.
Maybe that’s part of the artwork too.
The Name Becomes Part of the Experience
Ultimately, I don’t think of my paintings as merely images on a wall.
They are physical manifestations of ideas.
The title helps establish those ideas.
It can influence the way a painting is first encountered, change the way it is interpreted, create an emotional association, or introduce an entirely unexpected narrative.
And that is exactly why I enjoy unconventional titles.
I want each work to have a personality.
I want it to have a point of view.
I want it to make you stop for a moment and wonder.
Sometimes the painting will do that on its own.
Sometimes the title will help.
And sometimes, if I’ve done my job properly, the two will work together in a way that makes the whole thing more interesting than either one could have been by itself.
A painting is made with paint.
But the experience of a painting is made with much more.
Color. Texture. Movement. Memory. Emotion. Ideas.
And, sometimes, a rather unusual name.
That’s why I keep naming my paintings the way I do.
And that’s also why I reserve the right to change those names when the work — or I — eventually discovers a better one.
– Blair
