Studio Visit & Interview With E Dyer
Interview and Photographs by Brandon Joseph Baker
I met E Dyer at her studio inside Mini Mart on Geary and Leavenworth in San Francisco’s Tenderloin Neighborhood. I saw her work for the first time several years ago at Fleetwood’s 100 under $100 show. I was immediately struck and impressed by the ornate intricacies of the details, all in black and white, and how the art evoked a powerful observational presence. I was witnessing a moment, something bigger than a simple landscape, that warranted introspection. Dyer described her works as ‘Not straight-on street scenes. They’re more like glimpses and edges of things. You might be looking up at a building, or through a tangle of wires, or at something seen from a distance.’
Many of Dyer’s works feature landmarks and environments ubiquitous to San Francisco, a monochromatic palette and an obsessive focus on the finer nuanced details of a scene. I was impressed to learn the only paint color used in her black and white works is black. She builds from the foreground to the background, leaving negative white space from the gessoed canvas for the white spaces.
But Dyer’s work doesn’t live exclusively in the black and white realm of cityscapes. She creates zines, stickers and bold works full of color. The later I hadn’t had a chance to see in person, and I would encourage the readers to swing into Mini Mart during the next SF First Thursday to check these vibrant pieces out. They share similar compositional themes to Dyer’s black and white works but the colors pop in a way that begs you to look closer and wonder how.
Dyer is from the midwest, specifically Rockwall, Texas, a small suburb across Lake Ray Hubbard from Dallas. Before relocating to San Francisco she studied at University of North Texas, earned a BFA in Drawing and Painting and then an MFA from California College of the Arts in Studio Practice. She found moving to San Francisco to be more than just a reprieve from the conservative community she grew up in, it was her new home. ‘I lived in the Tenderloin for a decade and feel most at home there. It is an accepting neighborhood, I think due to the struggles the residents have faced over the years.’ Dyer tells me of her experience finding home in The City. ‘Walking through the Tenderloin, I am always conscious of the history beneath my feet. The Tenderloin is home to the only Transgender District.’
Dyer is currently showing at Moth Belly Gallery along with 9 other Bay Area artists in the exhibition “The City At Night”. You can see her works during the September 4th First Thursday Art Walk and again Friday - Saturday from 1- 6 pm through September 27th, 2025.
Interview
Thank you for meeting with me in your studio here at Mini Mart. I really like the collaborative space here. How long have you had a studio space here and what is the first thing you do when you start working?
Thanks for stopping by! I’ve been at Mini Mart since the start of 2024. It’s my home away from home. I feel like I have a lot of homes here in the Tenderloin lately. I feel lucky!
When I get to the studio, I turn on some music. I always listen to music when I paint. If I’m not quite ready to start I have some warm up paintings I work on, things that aren’t serious and I don’t plan on showing. Then I have to decide if I want to continue where I left off on a painting, start something new, or if I’m still tired after trying to warm up, then it’s a star day.
The way I work has always been intuitive. I try to listen to myself and go from there.
How would you describe your style of art?
My paintings are poems trying to hold on to memories, which are more a feeling than a moment.
There are a lot of city scenes: apartment windows, rooftops, fire escapes, wires, shingles, brick, plants on a sill. I return to certain things again and again; shooting stars, phases of the moon, clouds, grids and patchworks that feel like quilts. Some pieces feel like little keepsakes. I think it’s a kind of love letter to The City, to time, and to paying attention.
Painting is how I listen. It’s how I sit with something long enough to feel what’s underneath. Sometimes it’s grief. Sometimes love. Sometimes it’s just that strange shimmer of being alive and noticing.
What motivates you to create or where do the ideas formulate that come to life in your studio work?
Usually, it starts with walking. My spouse Gala and I walk most days; sometimes long walks, sometimes just around the block. It helps to move through things, through space, through something. It gives me a way in.
Walking is a way for us to connect to the neighborhoods we live in. It makes it easier to meet people, to stop and look around. I take pictures constantly. It’s about a feeling. It’s not collecting, exactly, more like, holding.
In the studio, I try to figure out what still feels like it’s holding something. I don’t always know what a painting’s about until I’ve already made it. Sometimes not even then. Communicating through pictures has a kind of mystery and mysticism to it. There’s room for things that language isn’t able to say.
I’m just hoping to make a connection with people. Even if my work only gets to one person, that’s enough.
What is your take on the DIY art community in San Francisco?
Inviting! Over the past 10 years I have met so many loving people. We are all here to support each other. I feel grateful to be a part of it. I wrote a poem about the Tenderloin art community which I think answers your question perfectly:
Find your family
they don’t have to be people you already know
walk somewhere and meet strangers
talk and talk and talk and talk some more
keep going there to talk to them
have fun and don’t think about it
soon you will find those you share common ground
and before you know it, you've made your own family
they're weird freaky people you can be yourself with
and every time you meet them
you are home
We talked about how in your work you are ‘walking with the viewer’. Can you elaborate on this idea and the narratives you weave into the art?
I think of my paintings like the way you might walk next to a friend you’re close to, where you’re both looking at the same things, not always talking. Just noticing. Being present. like a shared moment of attention. That’s how I want the paintings to feel.
More Than A Dream, featured at Moth Belly Gallery during ‘The City At Night.’
Though your art features cityscapes and homes in densely populated areas of San Francisco, like the Tenderloin, the art is void of figures. What are you exploring with this and why do you eschew people in your work?
To be honest, I don’t really think about it much when I paint. It’s not something I’m consciously avoiding. A lot of my compositions wouldn’t make sense with people in them. They’re not straight-on street scenes. They’re more like glimpses and edges of things. You might be looking up at a building, or through a tangle of wires, or at something seen from a distance.
There are living things: moths, birds, insects, squirrels, racoons, etc. Things that move differently through space; that don’t always announce themselves. My first zine was all about looking up, and you don’t tend to see people in that kind of gaze. It’s not so much about absence, but about a different kind of presence.
I’m more interested in atmosphere than narrative. A curtain shifting in a window. A plant that’s grown toward the light. To me, that can feel more intimate than including a figure. Like the city itself is alive.
The titles of your work feel extremely personal and narrative based, like there is a story behind each piece. I really enjoy that about your work. Do you have any practiced methods on how you name your art?
Lots and lots of writing and notes! I write on scraps of paper around my desk, as drafts in my tumblr, I write them in my sketchbooks, on my computer and phone. I try to always have a sketchbook on me, I’ve been keeping sketchbooks for such a long time now. The title usually comes after the work is finished. Occasionally I find one while I’m working on a painting. I look through the things I have already written to see if anything sticks, and if nothing does I start writing more!
I’m most familiar with your stark black and white works but you showed me a few pieces here in the studio which feature bright vibrant colors. What draws you to paint primarily in black and white?
Painting in black and white started out of necessity. I wanted to start printing my own books; which led me to zines. Black and white printing is substantially cheaper per page than color, and I was giving my zines away for free when I started. When people started taking to them and wanting to show the original paintings, I was like “oh I found something here!” And kept going from there.
When you paint in color how does that change your methodology and what do you find you gain as an artist by rotating between those palette choices?
They offer different modes of thinking and planning. Often the black and white pieces I am able to jump right into; I don’t need to spend time deciding a color palette and how it changes the mood of the painting. All I need to focus on is how the painting flows and its structure. They aren’t any easier to make. It’s just different.
With the color pieces, it depends on the kind of painting I’m working on. The ones that are based on Pompeii wall paintings I typically choose the color beforehand, I mix it up, put it in a tube, and give the color a name. Other pieces I just lay out a palette and go.
I don’t want to limit myself to just one thing. I want to keep growing, to keep learning, to keep pushing myself and not be afraid of trying new things. I want to keep myself on my toes.
Before you began painting primarily on canvas and wood panels, you made and showed your work in zines. Can you tell the readers a bit about your experience self publishing and what you enjoyed most ?
The first zine I made was for my first solo show in the Bay Area at Totally Rad in Berkeley. That’s when I started painting buildings again. I made a small coloring book zine that people could pick up for free at the show, and I got rid of all of them! Amber Müller, who ran the gallery, colored in one and gave it to me.
That experience pushed me to make my first narrative/ poem zine titled “Look Up”, which I started by dropping copies off in places around The City. Nico Schwieterman of Fleet Wood was the first person who wanted to sell my zines and gave them a home. I started selling them at City Lights Bookstore, Needles & Pens, and Zine Fest!
I love the process, my hand is in every step of creation. I make the drawings, copy them with a copier, fold the paper, staple the spine and cut the edges. If it sounds difficult, I can assure you, you can do this!
In the beginning when I created my online store and started mailing out my zines, I included letters and drawings with them. I was inspired in part by the Austin, Texas musician Daniel Johnston. Jeremiah the Frog of Innocence made a big impact on me as a kid whenever we visited Austin, I loved looking at that mural. Later I found out Daniel made it a habit to carry around his hand dubbed cassettes and give them away for free to people he met. The first copies of “Look Up” I tried walking along Market Street from 6th to Embarcadero, handing them out.
So, here it is! This is your sign! The time to start making your first zine is now!
Image courtesy of Edeyer.art
Do the powerlines and windows featured so broadly in your work have a deeper personal significance?
I think it’s about wanting connection. When I think of powerlines, I think of that electric hum. Even when no one’s around, they tell you something’s alive. That someone, somewhere, is receiving something.
Windows feel like the eyes of a building. They watch, they reflect, they invite you to imagine what’s inside. I’m always searching for that boundary between what’s seen and what isn’t. Between what we share and what we keep hidden.
What is next for you?
I’m currently working on a mural on Myrtle Street and Larkin for the Tenderloin Museum and the Compton Cafeteria Riot Play. Later this year, if everything goes to plan, I hope to bring back a new calendar with my art for 2026.
Also, I’m moving forward with a new zine! I am not sure if it will come out at the end of 2025 or some time in 2026, but it’s coming!
Lastly, I have a solo show planned at the Birdcage for next year that I have a lot of great ideas for.
I’m definitely looking forward to seeing your mural work, I regret that I missed the work you did previously for Paint The Void. Looking at your detail work on a grand scale will be exciting. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me and talk with me about your process. It’s been inspiring.