Jon Savage shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.
Jon, we’re thrilled to have you with us today. Before we jump into your intro and the heart of the interview, let’s start with a bit of an ice breaker: What’s more important to you—intelligence, energy, or integrity?
Integrity. As a contemporary artist and Deaf creator rooted in ASL and community, integrity keeps my work honest and my relationships strong. It means honoring commitments, crediting collaborators, pricing transparently, and building accessibility in from the start.
Energy is the engine that keeps me consistent: showing up, iterating, and delivering even when production gets tough.
Intelligence matters as thoughtful learning: listening, refining craft, understanding materials and technology, and making sound business decisions.
If I must choose one, I choose integrity. It sets the compass, and energy and intelligence help me follow it.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
I am Jon Savage, a Deaf contemporary artist in San Diego and the founder of Jon Savage Gallery. My work lives at the intersection of two cultures, Deaf culture and Southern California culture. I combine American Sign Language, bold color, and coastal rhythm across video installations, metal prints, and painted wood panels. Accessibility and integrity guide everything, from how I credit collaborators to how I design for community connection.
What makes my brand unique is the use of ASL as a visual language, paired with clean modern design and stories drawn from beach life, surf, and community. Signature projects include ASL Abstract Motion and the Sunset Series, with commissions that blend vibrant color and precise craftsmanship.
Right now I am expanding ASL Abstract Motion for larger venues, developing a Video Art Still Series for print and screen, and creating new commissions that bring calm energy and cultural connection into homes, schools, and public spaces.
Appreciate your sharing that. Let’s talk about your life, growing up and some of topics and learnings around that. What breaks the bonds between people—and what restores them?
Bonds break when people stop feeling seen. In my early life as a Deaf kid moving through hearing spaces, the biggest fractures came from assumptions, rushed communication, and systems that were not accessible. Silence is not the absence of sound; it is the absence of attention. When captions are missing, when voices talk over hands, trust thins. Scarcity, ego, and fear do the rest.
Bonds are restored through presence and clarity. Visual language, patient listening, and shared work bring people back together. In my world that means ASL first, honest credits for collaborators, transparent pricing, and design choices that welcome everyone. Surf taught me this too: you read the water, respect the lineup, and help the next person catch a wave. In the studio and on set, the same rules apply.
My practice is built on three restoratives: attention, accountability, and co creation. Pay full attention to the person in front of you. Keep promises and own mistakes. Make things together, not just for people. That is how art repairs what everyday life can undo.
When did you last change your mind about something important?
In 2011 I changed my mind about my life’s direction. I had absorbed the message that an artist must be a starving artist, so for years I made work in secret and kept my creative life small. After carrying that belief since I was eight, I finally rejected it. I chose to live openly as an artist and built a daily practice, a professional studio, and a public body of work.
The shift took resilience. I learned production, logistics, and the business of art while centering ASL, accessibility, and community. Letting go of the old story allowed my work and my relationships to align with who I really am.
Next, maybe we can discuss some of your foundational philosophies and views? How do you differentiate between fads and real foundational shifts?
I look for signals that hold up over time. If an idea still matters after several seasons and real events, it earns my attention. It must serve the work’s purpose by strengthening storytelling, accessibility, or craft. I watch how the community responds. When collaborators and collectors change their habits, that is a sign of something real. I ask whether it expands participation and improves the experience for more people. Foundational shifts usually require new skills, budgets, or workflows, and they keep proving themselves across mediums, from video and print to installations and in person events. Finally, I weigh results alongside lived stories. When the numbers and the audience align, I trust the shift.
Before we go, we’d love to hear your thoughts on some longer-run, legacy type questions. Could you give everything your best, even if no one ever praised you for it?
Yes. Praise is a breeze, not a compass. My compass is the promise I make to the work, to Deaf culture, and to the Southern California community that shapes me. I would keep showing up, refining craft, crediting collaborators, and building accessibility into every piece. That is how the work stays honest.
Legacy to me is quiet excellence repeated over years. It is clear captions and clean metadata, sturdy materials and careful color, certificates that outlast trends, and archives that help the next artist. If no one clapped, I would still do the same work, because the standard lives inside the practice, not in the applause.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.jonsavagegallery.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jonsavagegallery/
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jonlsavage/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JonSavageGallery
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLSofLkAnIZ4Q5rOcy4PIFiE_xA8lahlGh
