Kyle De Lotto’s painting practice has evolved into an act of relief. Not since high school has he painted during nighttime. His studio garage is a sanctuary and reprieve from the frenzied, disjointed world. Here—after putting the children to bed, free from the interruptions of mail deliveries, phone calls, text messages, everything— he is free. No distractions. No noise. No gaze. No indifference or contempt or praise. Just him and the paint. 

De Lotto’s paintings unfold as a narrative of transformation and discovery. He has come to understand that the hardest part isn't the act of creating, but rather embracing the uncertainty of where the paintings may lead. Work begets more work; the only way to finish is to keep pushing forward, relinquishing control in the process and embracing the unpredictable.    

This tension between confidence and insecurity fuels his work. The pieces are interspersed with unusual characters—a man canoeing through a marsh, a medley of animals, imagined figures, and a portrait of his father throwing his mother into a pool in the 70s— all characteristic of how Kyle’s painting thrives on the edge of the familiar and the unfamiliar. A significant portion of this exhibition examines the bucolic landscapes of South Jersey of the Pine Barrens and Barnegat Bay.   

Kyle’s connection to his New Jersey roots has deepened over the years. “I’ve always felt kind of placeless. I’m not from Baltimore, New York, or North Jersey, but South Jersey is a painterly land. It smells good; it’s kind of swampy, a beautiful 'white trash' kind of town, and there is something really magical about that. I go back once a year to gather family photos and other materials that I find, bringing them back to the studio.”     

His paintings dance between representation and abstraction, merging the generic with the specific. Residential neighborhoods are bisected by hazy earth and sky. This interplay allows Kyle to explore various genres while embedding his personal narrative into the canvas. The act of painting becomes a meditation, a space where thought gives way to instinct, allowing abstraction to reveal its own intricacies. 

“I’m trying to create rhythm in the paintings—both individually and as an exhibition,” Kyle says. “I use asymmetries to create visual bumps: starts and stops, clashing colors, and harmonious moments. When I paint, it’s not confined to the canvas; I’m considering the entire plane of vision and how it interacts within the frame and the surrounding space. I’m painting against something, striving for a nothingness that feels more emphatic, bumping against the corporeal world while harmonizing with the emotional realm.” 

The more I visit Kyle's atmospheric studio in East Pasadena, the more aware I become of these polarities. The vacant lot across from his home is overrun by a muster of peacocks. I am absorbed by the contrasts, the saturation of his palette, and the melancholic yet sentimentally colorful paintings that define his ideal sanctuary.

The late Noah Davis often comes up in our conversations often: “He was the first real practicing artist I met. I lived down the street from The Underground Museum, and he would take me to the studio. Watching him paint and experiencing those moments with him as a friend was incredibly important. He left an impact on everyone. I admired his principles—so much confidence, so sure of himself from a young age; he had this determination.”  

“My wife says I’m always daydreaming,” Kyle says to me in the car. We’re driving back to the gallery during a lunch break while installing his show. He navigates in a direction that will not lead us to gallery quickly, but it is a route I have yet to explore, driving us through the canopied back streets of Hollywood. He indeed seems to be daydreaming

Kyle De Lotto (B 1987, Point Pleasant, NJ) works from a studio in a stand alone garage at the foothills of the San Gabriel Mountains. De Lotto’s paintings reflect an internal exploration of fragility and brutality, the sacred and the profane and the eternal and the ephemeral.