Tina Tammaro

Tina Tammaro is a figurative oil painter living in Cincinnati,
Ohio. Tammaro has shown at Indian Hill Gallery, the Kennedy
Arts Center, Clifton Cultural Art Center, NKU, Antioch College,
the annual SOS exhibits, YWCA, the Weston Art Gallery, one
person show at Shawnee State University as well as at the
Bleicher/Golightly Gallery in Santa Monica, CA and the Blue 5
Art Space in West Hollywood, California. She was a recent
second time recipient of an Aid to Individual Artists Summerfair
Grant, For over 25 years Tammaro has given lectures on art
history and contemporary art and has been published in a
number of international and national art periodicals. She has
taught at the University of Cincinnati, NKU, the Art Academy of
Cincinnati, the 92nd Street Y in NYC and the New School for
Social Research in NYC. Tammaro has a BFA in painting from
Miami University in Oxford, Ohio and an MFA in Drawing from
the University of Cincinnati. She is represented by The Indian
Hill Gallery in Cincinnati. 

In my paintings I explore the power dynamics in human
relationships: between couples, within families, in our
workplaces and throughout society and the justice system.
Many describe the key figure in The Prodigal Son story as the
father who reminds us in the most vivid way that no one is
beyond love and redemption. If society really believed that,
then prisons would be restorative institutions, immigrants
would be treated kindly and with compassion and health care

would be considered a right rather than a benefit. As a child I
remember hearing this story and I worried about these two
brothers. The older brother is the dominant one now. How can
he not be? The father did tell him that all is his. I always
thought about this brother who stayed home and played the
game according to his family's wishes. He must feel self-
righteous but maybe a bit envious. His brother went on a
journey. He explored the world, he enjoyed his riches and then
lost everything and lived at his lowest. They, so far, have
chosen divergent paths. The mother feels these conflicts
deeply.  Why is she not even mentioned in this story? Focusing
this parable on forgiveness and centering it on the prodigal
brother and his father is why I have issues with most
interpretations. In this painting of The Prodigal Son, we
empathize with each member of the family experiencing the
complex dynamics of their life choices.
I named this painting after a line from a Charles Bukowski
poem, "we were never children like your children". I saw a
show at The Freedom Center about lynching postcards. All were
horrific, but one in particular haunted me. It was a photo taken
in Waco, Texas in 1920. A number of men and boys are
mugging for the camera below the feet of a man. They appear
to be fathers and their sons. The back of the postcard
mentioned going to the hanging after church and then visiting
an aunt later that day for peach pie. I started the painting with
this image not knowing that I would also add the upper panel. I
had just begun reading Michelle Alexander's book The New Jim
Crow. I decided to add the upper long canvas and began by

putting tape lines on the canvas to represent the bars of a
prison. I had recently read James Cone's book The Cross and
the Lynching Tree. He talked about how there is no record of
churches equating lynchings to crucifixions, but that artists and
musicians used the connection often in their work.
After reading Michelle Alexander's book The New Jim Crow I
began two paintings: one of a crowded prison and the other
about solitary confinement. When I was four years old, Nelson
Mandela was put in prison. It was 1962. We have the same
birthday, so each year until 1990, his captivity was mentioned
on the news. For 27 years!
I make paintings to create conversations. I used to work at the
Whitney Museum of American Art. I led students and the public
through the collection and instigated conversations about the
work. I always saw many of their eyes light up as they made
thoughtful comments and questions. This is why I make art.
I am fascinated by how others think and see the world.
A dear friend once commented when he first saw a large group
of paintings in my studio, that "everyone in here is thinking". 
I am beginning a painting about power in the world. I was
recently showing a friend some sketches for this new work, and
I said it is going to be about power. She laughed and
commented, "Isn't that what all your work is about!?"