Boris Fitzgerald

Boris Fitzgerald first came to me in the form of a painting. He had some work hanging in a group show in Freetown (Archives: boundaries at The Hallway in Lafayette, April 2025), and when I saw it I knew I wanted to know more. It was loud work, and sweet at the same time; it was a little rough around the edges, a lot beautiful in a mysterious way. It confronted daunting things, but wasn’t intimidating. I love whenever someone has the sensibility to portray life in its persistently contradictory state; it’s something we all know from experience, that life really consists of everything everywhere, all at once but it’s not easy to understand, admit, or put onto canvas.

His canvases (mostly found objects, only sometimes actual canvases) are generally large and slathered freely in bold colors. The subjects are nebulous but discernible, sometimes cartoonish, and often married with floating words or symbols. In simple terms, you’d call Fitzgerald’s work folk art, or primitive. But that’s just lazy umbrella art jargon; I wanted to know who he is and what kind of art he is really making. His work hinted at stories, and I wanted to know them. I love his use of words in paintings, because I think it encourages questioning and interaction on our part.

I met Boris at home to talk about his work, and made my way through his sunlit studio and into a sitting room where Sex and the City was paused, frozen on a moderately sized TV screen. We had Carrie Bradshaw in common, at least.

He expressed only a little leeriness about opening himself up to a writer, and I assured him that the writer is equally as intimidated by the painter. I want to write about art to be closer to it. He holds the paintbrush – who am I to tell his story? I only hope I can reveal some truth to you, reader, about what and why Boris paints what he does.

Image courtesy of Leah Graeff

At what point did you decide you were an artist, or wanted to be an artist?

That’s a hard one to answer. I’ve always felt connected to beauty, even before I had the word “art.” I’ve always felt my eyes were very special. I remember reading my mother’s Vogue magazines. Fashion was my gateway into art, 100 percent. It still is my main inspiration, fashion. Every gay boy loves fashion, but it spoke differently to me. It’s this bigger world, this dream world where everything is beautiful and expensive and attainable. My favorite fashion designers are the most tortured ones – Galliano, Margiela. I’ve always had to create something, in some type of way. I started drawing early. Later I started drawing digitally. And that was very important to me. I did that for a while, but I didn’t really think much of it. It felt kind of small to me so I never really did much with it. But one day something happened and I thought I should paint. I’d been told before I should paint, but it honestly never felt like I could. I never thought that I could, but one day it felt like I should.

My first painting was on paper. I went to the craft store that used to be downtown, Dieuxieme Vie. This was just a couple years ago. Maybe four or five years ago. I was always creating and drawing. I don’t ever want it to seem like one day I just picked up a paintbrush and [started making art]. I was always creating and drawing and doing something. 

I went to the craft store and bought some supplies. I was going through a really dark time. I was doing the things that you do to get through a dark time – I was working out, throwing stuff away, washing your hair, and I picked up religion again. Painting, for some reason, was something I tried to do and it worked.

The Archives (Archives: systems in Lafayette, October 2024) show was the first time I ever showed art.

Did you keep it, your first one?

I have it, yea. One of the first paintings I sold, and I miss it so much I think I’m gonna buy it back. That's a goal of mine. I miss that painting.

Tell me what that was like, never having shown any art publicly and then suddenly having a piece in a well-attended art show.

It was dope. It was overwhelming. It was scary. And weird. I felt awkward. And I don’t really like my outfit when I look back in pictures.

What were you wearing?

It doesn’t really matter. I was wearing all-white – I had this idea. Whatever.

A house painter!

(Laughing) Exactly.

But it was dope. I got a lot of love. I got a lot of great feedback. I sold a few paintings. Emma and Red and Lex – they put on such a beautiful show. I felt nervous about how the show would be displayed because some of my paintings are very large. I had never seen the space. I was worried about the lighting. But when I walked in, they’d done such a beautiful job. It was just perfect. I felt grateful that my first time showing – if I’d put the show together it would’ve been shown like that. It was beautiful, overwhelming, and exciting. When I showed up, I saw this painting had been sold, and that painting had been sold – I felt like Let’s drink some champagne!

Working with Archives felt very natural. I will work with them forever, as long as they’ll have me. They changed everything for me. It was definitely the boost I needed. That was the first, like, sign that showed me that maybe there’s something going on here. Maybe take it out of the bedroom, be free to take it seriously now.

Image courtesy of Leah Graeff

What’s your relationship to Lafayette? How long have you lived here?

I grew up in New Roads in Southeast Louisiana, where there weren’t many outlets for art. I moved to Lafayette right after COVID struck; things just worked out for me to come here and stay. It’s a much more inspiring place than I expected it to be.

Why have you decided to stay in Lafayette, to make it your home still?

Probably because it just started to feel like home. Honestly, Lafayette has felt warmer than Baton Rouge and New Orleans. The community that I’ve made here feels too important to leave. It’s hard to leave Lafayette. (Laughing) The food is too good.

What are your Inspirations, your muses?

Everything I paint is about me. 

Colors, fashion designers, music. The mix of music and fashion is very important to me. When I need to feel inspired, honestly, I like to go out. People inspire me. Going out inspires me. I like to go to dinner, see what other people are talking about. I can look at references all day and flip through things all day and fill myself up all day, but going out and talking to people kind of breaks that up a little bit. People are my main inspiration. 

Music is so important to me. Loud music. My music taste comes from my parents. I was very lucky with that. They introduced me to a wide range very early. My mother loved reggae music. My dad loved zydeco music of course. He’s Creole. He also loved Johnny Cash and country music. I listen to a lot of country music these days. But they sprinkled everything in between.

Rothko is a huge influence on me – not just his paintings, but his life, his artistic integrity. He was a little rock-n-roll. Cigarettes and bad attitude. 

I love Kanye West. I think he’s the most important influential artist of our generation. His contributions to art and his taste level. That’s controversial to say I know. His music has been with me for as long as I can remember.

What about your trajectory as an artist? We know where you’ve been, but where do you wanna be?

I wanna be a great artist. I don’t think I am one yet. I do think I have potential. I want to be a great artist and I don’t even know what that means yet. I want to first find out what that means. And then I want to become that. And I want my life to revolve around my art, whatever that means. Not only making art but experiencing it and living an art-filled life is the goal. Truly.

I think I’m doing what I need to do. Full-steam ahead. 

I have this project, this collection I’m working on called Home, that I really wanna finish and display as a solo show. I want to talk to people and see what emotions come up when people look at my art.

Right now I kind of have tunnel vision on this project. I have been painting flags that have spawned off of Home. I’m really into flags, uniforms, symbols. I got really inspired by flags for a while.

What’s the philosophy behind the Home project?

I started with fences, because I felt very unsafe at one time. I wanted to work through that. Then windows, because I saw beyond the fences, I saw beyond the fences a life that could be filled with art and I saw this person I could become. And now I’m on doors because I think that I’m becoming that person, I think that it’s here. It feels like it's here. I don’t know what the endpoint is, but I think that I’ll feel it. I’d like to present this long tortured process, this life I’ve been living for the last 3-4 years that has gotten me to where I am. 

I love that idea of creating something that you need.

A home. 

Manifesting.

It’s witchcraft.

Your figures are cartoonish, not super realistic.

I’ve never used a model before. I draw everything very badly, just freehand, with a marker or a pen or a pencil, sometimes my paintbrush. But usually a Sharpie. And then from there…I never try to make anything super believable. Also it’s just a lack of technique, honestly. I’m not the best painter in the world. My skill is not my painting, it’s my storytelling. I also happen to be very good with color. I know that. Painting, just for some reason, fits with me. I’m good with my hands, I’m good with a paintbrush so painting works. And color doesn’t intimidate me. And it’s fun, painting is fun.

I want to come off as hard and soft at the same time. 

I started to paint trying to figure out a lot of the dark stuff. I had to. Truly. So that’s what came out. The goal is for it to be beautiful, though.

How do you feel about being put into a box? I think anyone who comes from the “art world” would look at your paintings and call it folk art.

You know, I was just called that for the first time and it didn’t offend me. I was honestly complimented by it. I looked up “folk artists” and I was, like, OK well these are some of my favorite artists! 

It would take a lot for me to be offended. I’ll be the first to say: I’m not technically trained, my lines are not straight, I’m not here trying to fool anybody. I’m just doing what I have to do, and any title that you put on me – I’m honest. I’m doing what I’m doing. And it’s cool that people like it, but that was never the goal. 

Image courtesy of Leah Graeff

When it comes to folk artists, who do you like that you’ve seen?

I’m not, like, well-versed in art history, to be honest.

I think that’s great, that you’re not so influenced by the jibber jabber.

Folk artists, I go back to fashion designers. Margiela – even though he was trained at one point, I think he embodies what it means to make something out of nothing. Banksy – when I think of folk artists, I think of graffiti artists. Banksy has been a huge inspiration to me my whole life, but I think that’s probably every millennial rebel. We used to tag way back in the day. (Laughing) I’m too scared of going to jail now.

When I think of folk artists, I think of musicians. There’s this duo, these French musicians, CocoRosie. That was one of the best shows of my life. They’re very inspiring to me, just very weird and personal and kind of off-putting a little bit. 

When I think of folk artists, I think of my friends who are making something out of nothing. My friends who are not being published, or not being written up.

Looking at your paintings, what kind of material are you painting on here?

A lot of my paintings are on drywall. This was the first I painted on drywall. It works for me because I really slop paint on, I slop then I throw then I slop some more on. I use markers, I use oil. It’s good for me, because it takes a lot before it really starts to absorb. It has a beautiful texture. This beautiful texture I love comes from just slopping it on. I’m just out here playing, really.

Speaking of folk art, my dad was a bricklayer. He was a beautiful artist. No one probably called him an artist to his face, but he definitely was. 

You have these brick paintings! You’re laying bricks with paint just like your dad laid them!

Exactly. They’re inspired by my dad. I’m building a house. (Laughing) You get it. I have some flowers. I love to paint flowers. My mom was a gardener. I’ve never met someone who has a green thumb like my mother has. I paint flowers all the time.

I like that you put words in your paintings.

Yeah, I’m obsessed with words. I think that maybe that’s a millennial thing, like graphic t-shirts, but also I love easter eggs.

What haven’t we talked about that you’d like to talk about?

I’m open to commissions. I’m actively looking for a space to have my first solo show. I have these ideas, of course, about how I want to present this work. I haven’t decided yet how I want it presented.

Image courtesy of Leah Graeff

What’s your perfect day in Lafayette?

I love this question. I think about this all the time, and I try to set out on this day every day. 

I wake up, and I’m gonna go into the studio and paint for a little bit. I want breakfast, and I'm gonna order it from Dwyer’s, the diner that we all love. I like a big breakfast plate, but also I might want a burger. On a perfect day I’m waking up and I’m with my friends and we’re gonna order everything. And then we’re gonna go thrifting. We’re gonna go to [REDACTED], our favorite thrift store, for sure. I don’t want the word to get out too much, if you want to leave the name out. (Laughing) We’re gonna go to lunch, probably at Spoonbill. But while we’re at Spoonbill I’m probably gonna wanna order something from Laura’s II to be home when I’m getting ready to go out because they have short hours and there’s always a line around the corner! They have the best food in Lafayette, 100 percent. I'm gonna get catfish and red beans for sure, or their special. But catfish and red beans – you can't go wrong. Then I’ll probably be in the garden with the dogs, probably get into the pool because it’s 97 degrees outside on my perfect day. Then we’re gonna go to dinner at Pamplona, our favorite restaurant. We’ve gonna order everything. We’re gonna drink champagne. We’re gonna be loud and obnoxious. Then we’re gonna go for drinks at Vestal. We’re gonna be loud and obnoxious. And then, on a perfect day, I’ll be out supporting one of my friend’s performances somewhere. All of my friends are creatives, so I’ll be at a performance at the ‘Boose or the Boom Boom Room.​

See what Boris is working on by following him on Instagram. See his work with Archives here. Get his recommendations for a perfect day in Lafayette below.