“People don’t buy art during their workday. They buy it when they’re on vacation.” Ben Steele structured his career around that insight, and Helper fits naturally into that pattern. 

Steele’s gallery, Beg Borrow & Steele Art Co., sits among the brick storefronts of a former coal town that once moved trains and tons of coal. The most noticeable part of Ben’s paintings is how his style has developed. He is a true craftsman, creating both satirical and American images reminiscent of Andy Warhol, but barns and crayons offer nostalgia and the spirit of a guy who looks like he is having a great time making art that now sells in some of the nation’s top galleries. 

Steele describes his work as pop realist; a label that reflects both subject and method. His paintings draw from Americana, pop culture, and art history, but they are executed with hyperreal technique and deliberate control. “I’m not distilling it down to a Warhol or a Lichtenstein,” Steele says. “There’s certainly pop culture in it, but the technique is where it lands.”

His path to Helper was indirect but purposeful. After his family moved from eastern Washington to St. George, Steele enrolled at Dixie College and asked an art instructor where the strongest art program in Utah was located. The answer sent him to the University of Utah and into a network of working artists and mentors. One professor encouraged him to take summer workshops in Helper. Steele came for the sessions in 2002 and returned the following year, moving there permanently in June 2003.

The decision was practical. Living costs in Carbon County were low enough to allow long hours in the studio without constant financial pressure. Steele credits early guidance from Dave Dornan, an artist and mentor who helped establish Helper’s early workshop scene.

“Paint things you like,” Dornan told him. The advice stuck. Steele built his body of work steadily, refining both style and discipline. Over time, his career expanded outward into national gallery markets while his base remained firmly in Helper.

Inside the gallery, Steele’s most recognizable motif appears repeatedly: crayons. At first glance, they register as nostalgia. Look longer and their function becomes more clear. 

“I love them because they actually function like arrows in a painting,” Steele says. “I can direct you. Look over here. Go this way.” The subject matter may feel familiar, even playful, but the craftsmanship is exacting.

Helper itself mirrors that balance between past and reinvention. Coal remains part of the region’s economy and identity, but it no longer defines the town entirely. 

“It’s still a proud history,” Steele says. “We try to celebrate that in our murals and things.” Helper’s origins as an immigrant mining town also created a culture that made room for difference. “There’s a reason artists are here,” Steele adds. “It’s an accepting community. People kind of pride themselves on being outliers.”

Steele’s gallery is not positioned as an exclusive showroom for distant collectors. It is designed to remain accessible, with prints, shirts, and smaller works alongside major originals. “We want it to be accessible to locals,” he says. “Not just another gallery that’s out of reach.”The result is a space that functions as both anchor and pause. Steele’s gallery gives Helper another reason to stop, and it gives travelers something lasting to take with them. As Steele puts it, “You slow down when you’re on vacation. That’s when you have time to see what you actually like.” 

Photos by Ryanne Andrews.