Glenn Hardy Jr. is a self-taught artist whose vibrant, figurative paintings reframe everyday Black life through a lens of celebration and ease. Drawing from personal experience and inspired by visual forebears like Kerry James Marshall and Ernie Barnes, Hardy replaces reductive narratives with ones grounded in joy, dignity, and human complexity. In this candid conversation, Hardy speaks to the power of representation, the beauty of the ordinary, and why freedom, both lived and painted, is central to his creative philosophy.
What is the origin story with your relationship to art?
GH—Thank you so much for taking the time to explore my practice and show interest in my work—I truly appreciate it. My relationship with art has been going strong for a long time; I’ve loved it for as long as I can remember. I started drawing when I was about seven years old, and believe it or not, I still have some of those early sketches tucked away somewhere (though I’m slightly terrified to revisit them! lol) Back then, graphite was my go-to medium long before I even knew what the word “medium” meant. My first real painting experience came from a commission by my aunt, who asked me to create something for her living room. I bought my first set of oil paints and figured it out on the fly. Yep, I started with oils, and later switched to acrylics which isn’t the common way to do things. Since that commission, painting has been a constant presence in my life. Lately, I’ve found myself circling back to drawing, and it’s been fun.
What’s Left Over — 2025, mixed recycled materials and acrylic paint on canvas, 48 x 36 inches
In an art world often defined by figuration and narrative, your commitment to non-representational abstraction feels both bold and deliberate. What draws you to abstraction as a mode of expression?
ADE— Without the boundaries of representation, I’m able to explore ideas more freely and intuitively. Abstraction invites viewers to bring their own experiences to the work and form personal, uninhibited interpretations. I’m drawn to it because it creates space for emotion and meaning without the need for clear definitions or explanations. It lets me focus on what feels honest in the moment through form, texture, and bold, sometimes jarring, color choices.
Burst — 2023, mixed recycled materials and acrylic paint on canvas, 48 x 36 inches
There’s a tactile rhythm in your layering of textures and materials. Is there ever a moment where the material itself dictates the direction of the piece?
ADE— Absolutely! You know I absolutely adore working with textured art! So yes wholeheartedly, the material often leads the way. I usually start with a loose idea, but once I begin mixing materials with acrylic paint, things tend to shift and evolve. I try to stay open and let the piece guide me as it comes together. Since I use a lot of recycled materials, each one comes with its own history, its own energy. In a way, it feels like we’re creating the work together, sounds a little wild, but it’s true.
Untitled — 2022, mixed recycled materials and acrylic paint on canvas, 48 x 36 inches
Color appears not just as a visual strategy but as a structural one in your work. How do you approach color and in what ways do you see color functioning beyond aesthetics, as a language, a mood, or a gesture of disruption?
ADE— As you know, I’m always drawn to texture first, and color naturally follows. Of course, I want my art to look good, but it’s about more than just that. Color sets the tone, evokes emotions, and can really shift the energy of a piece. It has its own language. When paired with texture, the two elements work together to invite the viewer to not just look, but to feel. They’re kind of dancing with each other on the canvas, and I hope that rhythm connects with the viewer’s mind, too. I want them to feel something, ideally a positive emotion. I want them to walk away feeling alive and that happy they stumbled upon my work.
When I was still figuring out my style as an artist, I used to lean heavily on black, white, and a little gray in my work. I might return to that someday. I’ll always have a love for those shades. But right now, as the artist I am today, I’ve found that bright, bold colors really excite me! And to me, that’s what art is all about creating something that sparks excitement. I wouldn’t hold me to that, though, who knows, I might wake up tomorrow and feel drawn to work with black, white, and gray again.
"Primary," 2022, mixed recycled materials and acrylic paint on canvas, 48 x 36 inches
"Secondary," 2023, mixed recycled materials and acrylic paint on canvas, 48 x 36 inches
You’ve described your work as ‘beautiful, chaotic, and sometimes jarring.’ How do you navigate the tension between harmony and dissonance in your visual vocabulary?
ADE— Harmony and dissonance can coexist, it’s really about finding the balance between the two. The harmony shows up in the way colors and patterns work together to form connections, while the dissonance brings in that unpredictable energy and a sense of movement. When all the elements come together, they give the piece life. I make sure to create space for both sides to show up, letting them push and pull against each other until they find their own rhythm. That tension is what makes the work feel real and alive.
It honestly reflects life in a big way. Life can be incredibly beautiful, but at the same time, it can feel completely chaotic, just turn on the news for an hour or so and you’ll see what I mean.
"Burst," 2023, mixed recycled materials and acrylic paint on canvas, 48 x 36 inches
"Cruel," 2023, mixed recycled materials and acrylic paint on canvas, 48 x 36 inches
"Deconstructed Flower," 2023, mixed recycled materials and acrylic paint on canvas, 16 x 20 inches
Your early exposure to museums and fashion clearly left a wonderful impression on you through your art and love of fashion. How do these formative encounters with both institutional art and style culture continue to shape the way you conceive of composition, form, and surface?
ADE— Those early experiences with museums and fashion had a big impact on how I see and create. Going to those places with my parents left a lasting, positive impression on me. Both worlds taught me to be intentional about how elements come together. Museums helped me understand composition and form, while fashion sparked my love for texture, surface, and bold choices. Whether I’m building a canvas or styling a look, I’m always thinking about balance, contrast, and the story being told through the details. Those early influences also reminded me to stay open, to leave room for spontaneity, continue to evolve and never be afraid to take risks.
There’s a careful deliberation in your practice despite the spontaneous feel of the final work. Can you walk us through your process, from the initial impulse to final execution?
ADE— The way my OCD is set up… I really need structure, even if it’s structured chaos. My process might look a little all over the place to someone else, but there’s an order to it that makes sense to me. I’ll sketch out lines, line up paint containers to see how the colors feel next to each other and figure out which recycled materials I want to use in the piece. I don’t always end up where I thought I would when I started, but that’s part of it. I find a way to make it work and to make something out of nothing. And in a lot of ways, that reflects the reality for many people of color. We often have to make it work, even when the odds are stacked against us, even when we’re working with very little. It’s resilience in the form of creation.
The Chaos of It All — 2023, mixed recycled materials and acrylic paint on canvas, 48 x 36 inches
Are there particular movements or artists you feel in dialogue with?
ADE— I wouldn’t say I’m in direct dialogue with any specific movement or artist, but I do believe that, as artists, we’re all naturally in conversation just by creating. There’s a quiet connection that happens through the materials we use, the ideas we explore, and the energy we bring to our work. Often, it’s more intuitive than intentional, like when a piece just resonates with you, even if the artist’s style or background is completely different from your own.
We’re constantly responding to what came before us, staying present in what we’re creating now, and contributing to what comes next. That, to me, is the real dialogue. It’s about showing up authentically and creating from a genuine place. So, while I might not align myself with a specific movement or name, I do feel part of a much larger creative conversation. That said, I’ve always felt a strong pull toward abstract expressionism, it speaks to me with its emotional depth, rawness, freedom, and its endless possibilities.
I’m just as passionate about fashion as I am about fine art. Both have this boldness, rhythm, and unpredictability that really speaks to me. That same energy shows up in how I create my art and even in how I curate my looks. For me, it’s all connected, just different ways of expressing mood, movement, and personality.
There are so many artists I admire, both past and present. But honestly, I think the art world could do a better job of focusing on living artists. The ones who are here, creating now, and could really benefit from the support. The greats who’ve passed on don’t need the money but we do! And that’s why I really appreciate you, Sydney!
I also must give love to Detroit and Michigan based artists. The talent within the city and state is beyond incredible. I’ve been lucky to connect with some amazing artists either in person or through the socials, Paul Verdell, Gino Harris, Oshun, and of course, Tiff Massey, just to name a few. And there are so many more! Michigan is full of artists who deserve to be seen and recognized on a global level!
Stolen Momentum — 2023, mixed recycled materials and acrylic paint on canvas, 48 x 36 inches
In a time when abstraction is being re-evaluated for its political and social dimensions, do you see your work engaging with these broader conversations or is your gesture more introspective?
ADE— My work is mostly introspective, but that in itself can be political. As a person of color working in fine art, simply choosing to take up space in a world that hasn’t always welcomed people who look like me, carries a certain heavy weight. In many ways, I am the statement. My work often centers on emotion and memory, those jarring colors help bring those feelings to the surface, and those personal themes naturally open the door to larger conversations. Conversations about identity, belonging, and the power of seeing someone who looks like you in spaces where you may have once felt you didn’t belong. But I do belong, and so do you!
There’s also a strong thread in my work about treating others, and the planet, the way we’d want to be treated. We all have room to do better and be better toward each other and toward the earth. So even if my message isn’t loud or overtly political, just being myself and choosing the materials I work with brings those ideas forward in a quiet, thoughtful, and intentional way.
Images courtesy of the artist.