Ariel Dill and Christian Sampson

This is the LAST weekend to stop by Southfirst and see Ariel Dill and Christian Sampson's Inglenook. I've seen this show a couple of times now (which seems essential) and it's a really refreshing introduction (if you need one) to two of the most interesting emerging artists. It's also a nice take on a concept show...with a nice mix of playfulness and reverence. See my interview with them below:

Jon Lutz: Your current show, Inglenook, is based on the research and experimentations of psychologist Wilhelm Reich. What was your attraction to Reich?

Ariel Dill and Christian Sampson: Wilhelm Reich attracted us as a "material" based artist and thinker. Reich's ideas for orgone accumulators and cloud busters are some of the most fascinating sculptures of the 20th century- involving fantastic looking machines that could potentially harness orgone energy and control weather patterns. Reich believed he discovered orgone energy, a blue-light energy that radiates through the body and atmosphere. He invented the orgone accumulator box and blanket to harness this energy for healing purposes of all humankind. We thought orgone energy would be an interesting material to incorporate into our work.... to construct, in the constructivist sense, an artwork as "comrade". We also found it interesting that this was in a sense an "invisible" material"…one you can't see, you can only feel, a material that not only questions the faith of the viewer in experiencing it physically but also us in the construction of it.

Christian Sampson, Untitled, 2009, acrylic, dye, wood and plexiglass, 48" x 36"

JL: How do you incorporate this energy into your art practice?

AD/CS: We didn't know what we'd end up by experimenting with it and if our studio might explode from too much concentrated orgone. I wonder what the neighbors upstairs felt, maybe they had the greatest three months of sex and all their ailments are cured. We were interested in how orgone energy related to the physicality of the body and abstraction with paintings infinity with tactile textiles and blankets. The six orgone accumulator blankets we constructed together for the show are from Reich's F.B.I confiscated instructions. Once the initial construction of the blanket was finished we would wear the blanket and then paint them to ornamentalize the experience, seeing if colors, pattern and shapes involved would change the orgone experience in any way. For the answer one must go try one on and "see" for themselves.

Ariel Dill, Arrow, 2009, oil and acrylic on canvas, 20" x 16"

JL: How did Inglenook come together as a collaboration?

AD: Christian and I have had studios next to each other since leaving graduate school and we have a back and forth communication between looking at each others work and seeing connections or just discussing the work. We had never actually collaborated on work before this show. After we visited Reich's Museum, Orgonon, the Orgone Blankets were something that we wanted to make together and have in the studio, not necessarily for a show. When we were asked to do the show together we realized this was a good time to try making the blankets. It was a wacky enough way to connect our work to each other and then to physically connect to the viewer. It is really important for each of us to have our individual work (there is a wall and a door between our studios!), the collaborative pieces are made by this other part , almost a third artist...less ego is involved and that was pleasurable and unexpected.

JL: You are each working with abstraction and focusing on color and form…is there a concern here for the psychological effect of color on the viewer? Are there art historical precedents here?

CS: I think I was starting from a more 19th century phantasmagorical use of color and the psychology of the shadow. Looking at hand painted magic lantern slides and the use of the projected form and its double or other. Something that I think was much later picked up by Robert Smithson when he was writing about the use of translucency in Donald Judd and it's relation to science fiction of the 1960's. Also the early 20th century writings of Paul Scheerbart on translucent colored glass in 'The Gray Cloth (1914)' and "Glass Architecture (1914)' had an influence on me. I think my form is created by combining the amorphous as a catalyst against the elemental frame. I'm interested in painting as a hyperbolic gesture, one that interweaves wave-lengths of light color, and structure into a form both frozen and animated...

AD: My work deals more with 20th century uses of color. I was thinking about Johannes Ittten and his ideas about subjective color as well as the mystical implications of his work. Earlier this year I made one of his color experiments to find my "subjective timbre" and played with that idea and used that palette in a lot of the paintings for the show. I was also looking at this postcard of a Lucio Fontana, Concette spaziale, The Sky of Venice, 1961, everyday as I was painting. I found it amazing the way the painting maintained its directness and unfussy quality even on such a small disposable scale.

Ariel Dill, Platz, 2009, acrylic and pencil on canvas, 30" x 22"

Ariel Dill, Bright Walk, 2006, acrylic on canvas, 20" x 20"

JL: Apart from the collaborations, Ariel’s work in the show paintings while Christian has contributed photos and wall “constructions”. Together there is a composed, harmonious environment. Have you found this way of exhibiting beneficial?

AD/CS: The show was beneficial in getting our work out of the studio and into the Southfirst space and to see it in a new setting. I guess the composed, harmonious environment carried on from our studio over to the Southfirst space. It was also wonderful to work with Maika and Florian from Southfirst gallery, we had such a good time putting this show together with them. The title for the show Inglenook came about while showing Maika the work and thinking it in the context of the Southfirst space. Inglenook is an old English word for the area directly in and around a fireplace. We all thought it made perfect sense.

Christian Sampson, Solar Paintings, 2009, c-print, 8" x 10" each

JL: What role do the photographs have in the whole?

AD/CS: The photographs were a documentation of an experiment to play with solar light as a source to illuminate painting and color. We used a beach on the gulf coast of Florida with receives fantastic afternoon light and sunsets. I was thinking about what illuminates painting and what electrifies it. Opaque and transparent colors, medieval stained glass and Atsuko Tanaka. The wall paintings in the Southfirst show we're all created inside with electric light and are built to be electrified.The photos were documentations of luminous solar powered paintings.

Ariel Dill and Christian Sampson, Red and Grey Orgone Accumulator Blanket, 2009, Materials: see WR Orgon Accumulator Blanket Instructions plus canvas acrylic and cedar wood stand, 40" x 60" x 40"

JL: You have also had a number of film screenings in relation to Reich and his reverberating influence…how has his life and work assimilated into pop and/or underground culture?

AD/CS: Our film screening's were of W.R. Mysteries of the Organism by Dusan Makavejev (1971) and Sleeper by Woody Allen (1973). Both films we felt related to Reich on different levels-One being at the time a banned underground film from Yugoslavia exploring the relationship between communist politics, sexuality and Wilhelm Reich. The film interviews Reich's widow, son, local barber, and trained doctors of his teachings. Also showing orgone accumulator boxes, blankets and therapy in action...The following week we screened the film Sleeper by Woody Allen that involves the "underground" trying to destroy the "nose" of the enemy leader while passing around the "orb" and continually entering the "Orgasmatron". We felt Woody Allen had to have been influenced by Reich on some level during the writing and filming of Sleeper. The "Orgasmatron" had to be Woody's version of an Orgone Accumulator box! When we first drove up the winding driveway to 'Orgonon', Reich's home in Maine, we looked at each other and laughed that we felt like we were in a scene from Sleeper, this was also probably heightened by the fact we were driving a rental Nissan Cube.

For more info see their websites: Ariel Dill, Christian Sampson.

Sara Greenberger Rafferty

Frog in the Pond, 2008, C-print, 14" x 11", Edition of 5, 2 A.P.

I had the chance to catch up with Sara Greenberger Rafferty and do an interview...she has been doing some fantastically unique work over the past few years. I really enjoyed her show at the Kitchen and am looking forward to her new show. Tears opens at Rachel Uffner Gallery this Wednesday, the 9th and runs through October 25. Don't miss it!

Jon Lutz: How long have you made work focusing on many kinds of performers and/or entertainment?

Sara Greenberger Rafferty: My work has been about performers -- or more accurately performance -- since I was an undergrad working on a project dealing with social class. Early on, having made a pact with myself (which I sort of later broke) never to make an original image of a person's body or face, I depicted the performance of self exclusively through objects, props, and pre-existing images -- stand-ins, if you will. When I first moved to New York, I did a few performances as a retailer named Sophie Spar, where I sold artworks disguised as products for $20 or less. I then began working on a project, which never fully materialized, about the cakewalk (a syncopated music and dance heavily associated with minstrelsy).

Installation view of BANANAS at The Kitchen, 2009
Photograph by Adam Reich

JL: When did this begin as an interest for you?

SGR: I didn't take on magicians or comedians -- explicit entertainers -- as a subject until 2001 or 2002. Perhaps surprisingly, this came by way of my interest in the history and imagery of the cakewalk and the American fair (e.g. 1893 Worlds' Columbian Exposition in Chicago and more modest county fairs across the country). I started to become interested in the iconography and space of performance such as the fair, the stage, and the screen. At about the same time I began collecting comedy LPs and re-awakening my obsession with comedians, which began in my childhood. I read everything I could about Harry Houdini, Fatty Arbuckle, Buster Keaton, Phyllis Diller, Lenny Bruce, and Dick Gregory. In a sense, I have been sort of working my way through the history of performance or recorded performance, and now, with my new series of color photographs, I am focused more specifically on television.

While my work uses performers and entertainers as imagery, the theme my work is not really entertainment. I think things like stages, microphones, comedians, props, and backdrops may be constant threads in my work, though because I don't see my work as being about entertainment, I don't think it will be necessary to always use these forms.

Cardboard Spar, 2004

JL: Was there a particular work that opened things up for you?

SGR: One of the first works I made in this vein was a cardboard version of a comedy club in my studio. It wasn't particularly sophisticated but the handmade quality and the fact that it was literally coming off a wall became very important to me because it wasn't full installation nor was it sculpture, but some sort of elaborate wall work, like a very deep relief. This work is very reminiscent of Rupert Pupkin's basement talk show studio in Martin Scorsese's King of Comedy. Scorsese's work was actually very influential to the works I was making at the time, specifically The King of Comedy and Raging Bull.

Shavings, 2007, C-print, 14" x 11", Edition of 6

JL: Do you find yourself attracted to entertainers of particular eras?

SGR: I definitely relate best to performers of previous eras. As I said, it seems I'm working my way from the Civil War to the Bicentennial. I am not aiming to be nostalgic at all: it's just easier for me to process the visual material of the past, and use references to a certain era of photography to speak about more contemporary issues. Also, the people -- or people as characters -- I am using as imagery represent the canon of comic personas and documentation (television, photography, film). If I were to venture a guess, I would say this tendency arises from the fact that with 'historical' material I can have a more detached relationship with the primary sources, I can view them and analyze them outside of their time and context. Whereas, if I made a work using images of say Mary Lynn Rajskub or Dave Chappelle or Zach Galafianakis it would be more difficult for me to make it my own through transformation, because of contemporary cultural context and associations. But this could be a cop out.

Vicki, 2009, C-print, 24" x 20", edition of 5

JL: One of the most interesting things about your work is what is not happening or playing out as you might expect. Microphones and spotlights have no subjects, pies hit a wall in (lieu of a face), an empty Houdini case, and 2D, abstracted narratives. Is there a portrait of a “lost art” going on here or any critique or acknowledgement of shifts in manners of performance?

SGR: Thank you. I think of a lot of my work as playing out as a performance of non-performance. This could be interpreted in a number of ways, among them the performance of the everyday character, the way we perform in our daily lives or that the non-performance is related more to a non-compliance, a refusal to do what one is supposed to do. In some cases, the 'wrong' object is performing and in a lot of cases the figure is totally absent. I think ideas about damage, repair, obfuscation, failure, injury, humiliation, abjection, pathos, and humor are fairly important to my work. I depict a lot of 'benign violence' which would be the pies, the punches, and my new series which could be called spills.

JL: You’ve done a lot of work specifically about stand-up comedy. Do you see a connection between being a stand-up comic and being an artist?

SGR: I'm sure I could make this connection, however, my use of stand-up has to do purely with aesthetics and ethos. I like the aesthetics of stand-up comedy as a model for my art-making: up against the wall, pared down, masculine, one-person scale, engaging and not obtuse, only alienating by design, etc. Ideally I would like to make work that operates as good stand-up comedy does, something that is engaging but has the ability to deal with real shit, something that is crafted but not too flashy, something human scale but could engage a whole room. I have always been struck also by the connection of body to content in stand-up and how the comic's body (gender, race, stature, age, etc.) comes to bear on the meaning of the jokes.

Pies with Color Studies, 2008, C-print, 16" x 20", Edition of 6

JL: I’m curious about the process used in your 2D work. Much of it is photo-based, but what are you are actually photographing? Are you creating your own “originals” of different mediums?

SGR: All of my work is grounded in photography. Even sculptures I make generally have a definitive frontal view and I am always thinking about photographs. Most of my 2D work is in fact straight photography of "props" as I call them. I started by simply making drawings of photographs and framing the drawings flush as photos are usually framed. These were a type of re-photography to me because they were mechanical reproductions of the most basic (and time consuming) variety.

Then I started making the punch photographs, which were gouache reproductions of photographs on gessoed paper. I originally thought I would frame these and exhibit them as drawings as well, because I thought it would be really funny to have a one-of-a-kind work that was ruined or negated. When I tested this out, I found that the punched drawings were generally too pathetic. (As an aside: my work really needs to evoke pathos without actually being pathetic. I am constantly trying to make sure the work looks provisional without actually being so.) I

studio shot
Shuffle (Ace Five), 2006, C-print, 16" x 20", Edition of 6

decided to put the punched drawings on my copy stand, light them, and print them as photographs. This turned out to be the correct decision because the re-re-photo added a trompe l'oeil effect and also a shift in scale that turned out to be crucial. In more recent photographs, I have used a combination of found photography, Photoshopping, photography of props in my studio, and other straight photographs. In my newest photographs, all of the props were made in the studio with very modest supplies and then scanned and digitally manipulated. It's funny because I described my new work recently as "portraits of comedians," which ends up sounding like very different work than it is.

Elizabeth Blomster

Elizabeth Blomster is a Brooklyn-based artist and blogger. Check out her website here and see my interview with her below:

Photo Shape, 2004; Fine Pen Shape, 2005;
Shape Lines, 2007; Shape Snow, 2006

JL: Your work is very diverse, but there is a strong attention to materials that exists in almost everything you do. Have you ever been a painter per se, or did you earlier works always have this similar materiality/constructed element?

EB: I made some paintings with paint in undergraduate school that were still lives and models but quickly moved from using paints to gesso with photocopy transfers, a process akin to printmaking. I prefer to be a bit removed and act as a channel for the materials. This probably explains why I continue to be involved with printmaking, a roller making the mark instead of my hand.

Parameters xv detail, 2009

JL: How do you go about choosing what you will use? Are the materials found, purchased etc.?

EB: The materials are found and purchased. I choose things based on their capabilities- color, texture, fluidity or similarity to something else. For example, I mentioned making "bridge work" or "twins" where one piece is connected to the one before it or making a piece to connect two finished pieces. When thinking like this, I look for materials that mimic elements from the other pieces but I use the word “mimic” loosely. The fun in this system is that it’s structured, feels personalized and also promotes variety.

Pink Stack, 2007, screenprint monotype; Paper Shapes Group, 2007

JL: Why not just use a hard material like a rock or concrete when making a rock, instead of paper?

EB: I wasn’t actually trying to make rocks, I was turning some flat shapes from my prints into 3-D objects (but they ended up looking like rocks). However, the question still applies because I'd be unlikely to make rocks from rock. I prefer dualities or opposites-heavy/light, hard/soft, backward/forwards, natural/man-made. I guess I like integrating dissimilar elements and observing the amount that one thing differs from the next.

JL: What is gained here?

EB: What is gained here is amusement and a way for me to generate work. An open-ended system that I enjoy and can return to. The selection of materials I choose is personal, specific to me.They are disparate but imitate each other in order to form connections. Paper becomes wood, wood becomes sand, sand becomes glass and glass becomes tape. There is a term in psychology called mirroring. It’s when people make each other feel comfortable by acting similar like imitating someone's tone of voice or movements. It's a way to create kinship. The imitation or mirroring that happens in my work is a way to make all the unrelated materials fit together and communicate.

String Photogram, 2004

JL: In this case, why do you think you might lean towards making abstract works, as opposed to using figuration to hint more directly at this “kinship” and communication?

EB: This is a hard question. I guess I like the contrast of using inanimate objects to describe a human activity. My parents were/are collectors of antiques and the business of observing, evaluating and even anthropomorphizing stuff is a familiar one. But mostly, figuration would be too similar to the thought process I use for everyday living. I enjoy the departure from the known. I don’t think I explained this very well but it boils down to freedom.

Frame Wrapped with Tape, 2008; Striped Paper, 2008

JL: Are there pertinent art historical precedents in your work?

EB: Fluxus would be a historical precedent because I work with a lot of different materials that are brought together by my world view and I’m also wrapped up in simplicity over complexity, humor and absurdity.

The Sum and All Parts

This is the last weekend to check out The Sum and All Parts...a group show at a temporary space @427 Manhattan Ave./Bayard St in Brooklyn. It is really a smart show with a great mix of works. Stop by the closing part on Saturday night, from 8-12.

I did an interview with the curators Beau Rutland and Jenny Borland. See it below:

JL: I’m interested in the generation of The Sum and All Parts…I like the idea of a focus on multiple/serial imagery in a contemporary context, but it seems like you are also going for something more…

JB, BR: We wanted to put on a show where the work was accessible – not just in terms of affordability, but accessible in the sense that it could be understood and enjoyed by many different people in different ways. So, the original concept of the show, the idea of multiples, stemmed from this interest. We also wanted to avoid the presentation of artwork as "precious" or catering towards an art-market sensibility.

LeRoy Stevens, 2009, Favorite Recorded Scream, LP and poster, ed. of 500

JL: It seems like you have made a conscious effort to include a wide variety of media in the show…did you choose the works more based on personal inclination/taste or based on supporting the theme?

JB, BR: The work for the show was chosen fairly organically from a combination of both (personal taste and the theme) but we made it clear from the start that the artists would be given freedom to explore the concept set out to them and allow for their work to evolve over several attempts. Exploring the concept of multiples through a variety of media was only natural and appropriate.

David Rothenberg, 2005, Pointers I, II, III, DVD loop, LCD monitor, ed. of 10

JL: Do you think contemporary artists are increasingly interested in dissection or diminution of a subject?

JB, BR: Yes, and this idea was definitely useful while considering work for the show. To try and demonstrate both ends in our show, David Rothenberg’s Pointers series and Lanya Snyder’s Contact... series each deal with photography and imagery and methods of display, but on quite different terms. In David’s digital video loops, made from found 16mm footage, the hunting dogs appear strangely motionless against a moving background, deliberately framed by monitors and mimicking a static image – it forces the viewer to focus within the context of this frame. In Lanya’s work, the act of displaying photography is essentially broken down in itself.

Lanya Snyder, 2009, Contact 41, Contact 42, Contact 43, Contact 44, 38 c-prints, dimensions variable

JL: How do some of these artists move beyond what has been done with multiples in the past?

JB, BR: From the Bird’s Mouth by LeRoy Stevens is a good example of an artist going beyond what has been done with multiples in the past. It breaks down the idolization of one work, and spreads attention to all its encompassing parts – photographs, a film, a large-scale magnifying lens, and a sculpture- they become “art” unto themselves. In turn each piece can function as its own entity.

JL: I really enjoy how you have stretched the notion of a multiple…how does a work like Economics 101 by Boris Rasin and Kenny Komer fit?

JB, BR: Economics 101 kind of turns the tables on Gonzalez-Torres and ‘generosity.’ By taking a whole dollar bill and returning it to the viewer shredded, it works backwards from the way the take-away operates. It is endlessly engaging in the sense that it affects a possession of your own, leaving its mark for you to consider. We see it as displaying a Xerox machine for the viewer to press ‘copy’ instead of just showing the print produced for visitor to mindlessly take.

Kenny Komer & Boris Rasin, 2009, Economics 101 (detail), mixed media

JL: Are there particular artists that provided a conceptual backdrop for the show?

JB, BR: Absolutely – while working in the beginning stages on the show we thought a great deal about Allan Kaprow and Felix Gonzalez-Torres, who may not typically be paired together but we feel like their work has a similar spirit - the ideas of “art as life,” art that doesn’t have to be confined to a gallery space, or art that can be removed from conventions of display. In this current atmosphere it seems that a number of artists are returning to those notions of conceptual art of the 70s and 80s and seeking something a bit more authentic. In our show, a work like LeRoy Stevens’ Favorite Recorded Screams stems from this type of thinking: operating within the community (not just the gallery) to reach a certain end, and gives back in the process. The project is a collection of New York record shop employees’ favorite scream on a song, meticulously compiled over a period of 6 months or so. LeRoy then pressed vinyl records of the screams and plans to redistribute a few to each store.

JL: Do you see connections between some of these artists and those of the late 70s/ early 80s?

JB, BR: Another conceptual influence was Brian O’Doherty’s Inside the White Cube text, dealing with methods of display and the function of the gallery for both the artist and viewer. We felt like the space itself was equally important to how the show operated, and knew from the start that we wanted something unconventional. The space we found has a number of distractions and flaws, but in this sense offers possibility for site specificity and adds a kind of performative element, allowing for a different kind of interaction with the work.

JL: Is there another show in the works for you guys?

JB, BR: Hopefully! We’ll both be returning back to school in the fall, but still want to be involved in projects like this. It’s fantastic that temporary shows and spaces – and curatorial endeavors like Apartment Show and your Daily Operation – are popping up everywhere, we feel it really was time for a change in that direction.

first 4 pics:
Boris Rasin, Boom, 2008 (ongoing), acrylic on wood, 10 parts, dimensions variable; Jaime Gecker, Bugaloos, Polaroid collage on plexi, 12 parts, 5" x 5" each
LeRoy Stevens, 2009, From the Bird’s Mouth, DVD loop, lens with frame, melted coins, 2 c-prints
Lanya Snyder, 2009, Contact 41, Contact 42, Contact 43, Contact 44, 38 c-prints, dimensions variable; Kenny Komer, One, 2009, inkjet print (on left), 40" x 45"; Kenny Komer, Two, 2009, inkjet print (on right), 40" x 45"
Kenny Komer & Boris Rasin, Economics 101, 2009, mixed media

Inna Babaeva (pt. 2)

I cannot stay here too long
2003, metal, fabric, video projection, dimensions variable

Part 2 of my interview with Inna Babaeva below...

Jon Lutz: In some of your earlier works, there is a certain amount of directness that bends toward the conceptual. At the same time, you are still dealing with experience and physical engagement, but on a larger scale. I'm curious if these works were more conceptually based than what you are doing now?

Inna Babaeva: The work I made at that time was definitely nodding to Minimalism in its scale, the simplicity of forms and the notion of an interaction with a viewer. It departed from the minimalist credo: "what you see is what you see" . Yet, by inducing light and video projection into sculptural structures, my work actually defeated that idea and replaced it with: "what you see is what you see, and then more". They were a combination of visible and invisible, tangible and ephemeral, real and virtual, literal and metaphoric.

JL: There seems to be a great deal of planning involved...

IB: In terms of planning, all these works were multi-step productions: maquette making, construction of sculpture structures, video shooting and editing, and solving the technical difficulties along the way. Everything had to be planned, because the lack of planning meant a failure. And the role of a producer/problem solver usually was the reward at the end. It was like building a house - to design, to build and to make it livable.

Lapse, 2003, wood base, video projection, 4' x 18' x 18'

JL: Was there a shift that happened a few years back that prompted your change in direction?

IB: Yes. It was a shift in my process. The long term space-demanding productions once were a source of fun, and then they became a source of frustration. They took a very long time for completion, and only a small part of the conceived projects were ever executed. Most of the time I didn't have a space to present the work, and many of these projects never passed the stage of a small maquette. The produced work was too tricky to document and often didn't translate well in the forms of photography or video.

What's left probably was a turning point in my work. It was still about sculptural space, but there was a transition to the utilitarian, less precious materials like copy paper and paper clips. It was also about changing attitude towards the art making process that became more spontaneous and more fun.

Lapse (detail)

JL: Since it is not exactly clear what is going on in works like Lapse through reproduction, could you explain what we are seeing? What is the content of the video component?

IB: Lapse is a large stage-like wooden structure with a 4 foot deep "well" opening in the middle. At the bottom of the "well" a viewer can see the video projection of a stormy ocean's churning waters. The source of the image is a ceiling-mounted projector pointed down. Because of the shape of the well, the illusion of a greater depth is created and the projected image seems further away. It contributes to a vertigo effect when looking down at the "water". The idea of the work was the displacement of the image from its architectural context.

JL: In a way, these works are more engaging and inviting, especially with the inclusion of architectural constructions and videos. Have you seen a difference between the way people react/interact to these and your more current work?

IB: They were meant to be interactive. Their scale was related both to the architectural space and to a potential viewer. I think they were more engaging because they not only occupied space but also demanded time to absorb the video imagery. In that respect, Lapse was my most engaging work. During the opening of the show people were sitting, talking and drinking beer on the steps of the structure and by the "well". I found it to be really cool - that space in the gallery had been transformed into a social hangout. Not being able to see this kind of interactive response to my current work is one the trade-offs in that transition.

On and on, 2001, metal, fabric, video projection, each cylinder 8' h x 30" diameter

In case you missed it...the first part of out interview here and Inna's website here. Also check out her work in Central & Remote.

Lance Rutledge

I had the chance to catch up with Lance Rutledge and spend some time in his studio. I'm really into what he's been doing and was especially excited to see some of his older works. See our interview and images below:

Untitled, 2008, oil on canvas, 30"x40"

Untitled, 2001, mixed media on canvas, 20"x24"
Untitled, 1996, mixed media on canvas 18"x24"
Tomorrow, 1995, oil on canvas, 18" x 24"

Jon Lutz: Have you always made work that attempted to directly engage an audience through language?

Lance Rutledge: I didn't always make language based work, but from the beginning I've used language in my work on and off. When in high school I made a series of crudely made little "joke books" which I would pass around to anyone who would read them. I made the jokes up and the most funny thing about them was how "unfunny" they were. The punchlines made no sense or just fell flat. Kids would look at me dumbfounded, or just start laughing because they were so ridiculous, or out of nervousness. Sometimes I couldn't stop laughing, and a lot of kids didn't get it.

JL: In any case, how did this emerge over time?

LR: The first work I showed after leaving college was a group of hand made books I'd crafted in San Francisco with found photos narrated with stories, or fake autobiographies, or overheard conversations. One of my favorites was illustrated with 50's porno photos my landlord had found stuffed behind a fireplace mantel when gutting the upstairs apartment. I accompanied the photos with a conversation I'd overheard about a plane crash in the Canary Islands. I showed this group of books in Washington DC around1979. It always amused me to watch people read the book and try and concentrate on the text.

Untitled, 2008, oil on canvas, 40" x 50"

LR: In the 90's after doing a lot of paintings, I felt a little adrift and uncertain of how to move forward, so I began sending anonymous letters and little painted signs to my ex dealer Colin deLand & his gallerist/girlfriend, Pat Hearn, as well as to a few other people in the Art World. They were all humor based & absurdist. This allowed me to break free & experiment without fear or judgement. It was liberating. I was very entertained and excited by working this way. Eventually my painting and this work merged. After five years I became that artist. Not that I wasn't all along.

JL: One for the most interesting things about your work is the way you deal, however subtly, with perception and contradiction. These phrases could be seen as either stream of consciousness ramblings or carefully constructed pseudo-poems. To what extent are the statements borrowed or self-invented?

LR: Nearly all of the statements are self invented or a little twist on something I've overheard or seen that catches my attention. And I sometimes write down lists of words, statements, or phrases that pop into my mind. If I find that something continues to intrigue me I might end up using it in a painting.

JL: Do you find desiring to replicate signs that engage you?

LR: I do see signs that engage me. I'm always sensitive to these things. I haven't replicated many, unless they're too good to pass up and I can make them my own in some way. I wouldn't like to use something that could be easily traced to a source already known. That would be too easy. It wouldn't interest me.

Untitled, 2002, oil on canvas, 18" x 24"

JL: Some of the works function more as “signs” than others. In some cases, a kind of horizon line separates a phrase from a group of silhouettes. In others, there is no language at all. How important is it for you to work in these different modes?

LR: I think it's important to feel the freedom to work in any mode that works for me. Sometimes it's very satisfying to make a painting that's simply all text. I like the abstractness of it visually, as in a Chinese calligraphic ink painting. That same Chinese painter would also be known for his landscapes. There was a contemporary Chinese artist in a show in the Asian galleries at the Met, who painted landscapes that were built up with Chinese calligraphy. The words/symbols functioned as marks to compose the landscape. Quite beautiful and smartly done.

Basically I don't like to be hemmed in and not feel the freedom to work in a way that suits my purposes. When I don't feel the need to use words... I don't. I don't want to force anything. I don't ever want to feel a prisoner to a style or way of working. In that case you might as well be illustrating hot dog packages.

Untitled, 2000, acrylic and photo collage on canvas, 20" x 20"

JL: How do you think this changes the “message” that using text implies?

LR: In terms of how language or no language changes the "message", I'm not at all sure. I don't know what the message is. I don't want to send a message anyway. I want to engage the viewer enough to return again to experience the painting. Hopefully there is always something left over after each viewing. Something hanging in the air. Otherwise I consider it a failure.


ALSO SEE: My previous post with Rutledge here.