Curriculum Vitae

Andre René Epps Jr.

Painter · psychological portraiture · Atlanta, GA
renestudioatl@gmail.com · @rene.fineart

André René Epps Jr., Atlanta, 2026

Born

Chicago, Illinois, 1991. Lives and works in Atlanta, Georgia.

Education

Columbia College Chicago — studied theatre, 2010–2013. No degree awarded.

Working musician.

Self-taught as a painter.

Bodies of Work

2024–26

Everything They Didn't Tell Me — ten paintings in four acts; acrylic and oil stick on yellow-ochre-toned canvas. First complete body of work.

Group Exhibitions

2026

New Contemporaries, dōdōmu gallery — online group exhibition; I Can’t Breathe, Joy, What You Were Meant To Do

2026

HEARD 2, The Supermarket, Atlanta, GA — juried; Dead Riding Dead

2026

Portrait, International Online Group Exhibition, No. 35 Gallery — online; Still Here

2024

Pancakes & Booze Art Show, Atlanta, GA

Press

2026

Sherri Daye Scott, “Self-taught artist André René Epps Jr. pitches 10-painting series,” Rough Draft Atlanta, August 26, 2026

2026

“Featured Artist Spotlight,” Artdose Weekly, July 26, 2026

Artist Statement

Everything They Didn't Tell Me began with a title that arrived before the paintings — a phrase for what nobody had passed down. The series is ten paintings in four acts: Micro, Collision, Macro, Wisdom. They move from the interior — psychological, personal — outward to the systemic: labor, environment, exploitation, what a culture does to the people it needs.

I came to painting from theatre, which I studied at Columbia College Chicago, and from years of working as a musician. I am self-taught as a painter, and I still build a picture like a scene: the face as a mask that slips, the body caught in a moment of revelation. But the faces stay closed, on purpose. What you get is posture, costume, the weight of a look, and the colour that was already in the room. You end up standing in front of someone who will not tell you what they are, which is the condition the paintings are about. The visible seams are where two readings meet, not an opening. I learned to see by drawing what was around me, long before I had words for it. I work in acrylic and oil stick on yellow-ochre-toned canvas, building portraits where memory presses against the systems that shaped it. The series moves in four acts because that's how I learned a story holds.

These are think pieces. They're built to make somebody ask whether what they know is actually true. I wasn't prepared for this world — I was not. Black men often aren't; the ones who could have taught us weren't there, and the ones who were gave us everything they knew, which wasn't enough. So I went and found it. The work hands it back, as wisdom rather than comfort.