Drew Gentle, a former animation artist behind iconic shows like The Smurfs and The Land Before Time, transforms decades of private, abstracted figurative drawings into a richly expressive fine art practice.

1. How did working at Hanna-Barbera early on shape you? It was June 1965. I had just graduated high school and was about to turn 18. My father, who had 30 years of experience in animation and was the main background painter for Tom and Jerry in the '40s and '50s, asked if I wanted to work as his assistant at Hanna-Barbera. I said yes and started that Monday. It was humbling—the end of childhood. I was a boy wonder as an artist, but the adults I worked with had serious talent and professionalism. It was intimidating and inspiring. I worked two summers with my dad and started at Chouinard that fall, which became CalArts while I was there. 2. Was there a project that shaped your style? They all did. Every show had a different style and characters—The Smurfs, Scooby-Doo, Ghostbusters, Flintstones, TMNT, The Land Before Time—and my job was to draw them all well. It taught me flexibility, technical skill, and discipline. It was a great education. 3. What inspired your abstract figurative personas? They began in college as doodles and continued throughout my years in animation. That’s when I realized I wasn’t really a cartoonist—I was a fine artist with a personal vision. In the early ’80s, I was ready to pursue that vision full-time, but I got custody of my daughter. My second marriage had failed, and I was determined to be a good single parent. Animation was consistent income. I was in demand and often worked for multiple studios, driving across L.A. weekly. For 25+ years, I supported us while building a pension so I could retire with stability. My daughter is now grown and thriving, and I’m a grandfather. At 60, I left LA behind and moved to Arkansas to become the artist I was always meant to be. 4. How does light refraction relate to your work? Light is vital in painting. A prism splits natural light into colors, but in paint, mixing those colors creates mud. Realism uses light to show depth on a two-dimensional plane. But there’s also a spiritual way of showing light—more true to the surface of the canvas. I think of Rothko. It’s not realism; it’s emotion. 5. What advice would you give younger artists? Don’t wait too long to pursue your dreams. I have regrets about the work I may never get to. But I was doing something meaningful, and I wouldn’t change that. And who knows—maybe my best work is still ahead.