Phantasmaphile

Thomas Woodruff Interview

Thomas Woodruff  "Earth: Our stern mother/The charismatic zealot"  2007-08

Thomas Woodruff  "Earth: Our stern mother/The charismatic zealot" - flipped  2007-08

I've written about Thomas Woodruff a few times now, and can't seem to stop.  My enthusiasm for his work is bordering on mania, but better to go nuts over art than most other things, I think.  His show of motorized, rotating paintings, "Solar System (The Turning Heads)," just closed at P.P.O.W. Gallery, and was an absolute tour de force.  I had the pleasure of getting to ask Mr. Woodruff some questions about this project, as well as his general methodology and magicianship:

Phantasmaphile:  How did you get started as an artist?

Thomas Woodruff:  I was a peculiar child who preferred pencil and paper to baseball and bat, and an old movie on TV to a sunny day outside.  As I got older, because I had spent so much time practicing, I found I had developed real skills in making pictures, and this opened many doors.

Ph:  What inspires you?  Who or what are some of your influences?

TW:  Inspiration is a fickle companion; inclination and elbow grease are much more trustworthy.  The key is finding the right things to look at at the right time in your development.  Naturally for the solar system, I was looking at those fantastic, obscure, northern symbolists.  Artists like Knoph, Holdler, Moreau.  Art Nouveau came into play as well, the jewelry of Lalique, Fortuny's fabrics.  But I was also looking at van art.  My diet is always changing though.  Recently I discovered William Hoffman Beard,  he's a new fascination.  If I told you there was a time when Agnes Martin was a great influence, you probably wouldn't believe me, but it's true.  I think you can be inspired by anything from Da Vinci to "Charm School Rock of Love"...if you know what you were looking for.

Ph:  What is your idea generating process like?

TW:  I make notes, do sketches, and have plans for years in advance of actually making the works.  It gives the images a depth of flavor, like making a stew...then I allow things to be changed and altered when I'm in the midst of the making, to stay involved and in the moment, but the initial ideas are always in place.  I like to set up rules for my game.  It allows me to be more creative.

Ph:  What are your creativity rituals?  Are there certain elements you prefer to have in place when you create? (Time of day, music, beverage, etc.)

TW:  I have always work best at night, there is less distraction, and I prefer unnatural light.  When the work is going well, I often work till dawn.  I like to listen to classical music on the radio.

Ph:  Your style is filled with all sorts of decoration and embellishment.  What is it about ornamentation that appeals to you?

TW:  It seems a natural thing to me.  Most all art before our puritanical modernist age involved ornament.  Ornamentation and decoration heighten levels of content: STUFF means things.

Ph:  Your recent show, "The Solar System" was utterly magnificent - truly one of my favorite shows I've ever seen.  I read that you became interested in flipped images when you found out that these sorts of puzzles could be helpful for a friend of yours with Alzheimers.  I'm curious how you made the journey from developing this technique to deciding to utilize it to depict cosmic deities?

TW:  Thank you for the great compliment.  I found myself drawing upside-down heads while I was on the phone absentmindedly grappling with issues of my friends' troubles, trying to make sure he would get proper severance from his employer, etc. Those doodles developed into a series of moon paintings, and eventually the planets came after that.  My friend was an extraordinary dancer and choreographer before his disease took effect, and the cosmic joke was right in all our faces.  His interest in music and complex choreography work gave me the basic content that matured with my additional research on the solar system.

Ph:  I love how these paintings are done on black velvet – usually a visual shorthand for kitsch or questionable taste.  It seems to me like you are sort of winking at the viewer and taking the piss out of the art world so to speak.  Would you say that's a fairly accurate interpretation?

TW:  No, actually not at all.  I hate winks, it's kind of creepy and not too healthy.  I was truly interested in the effect of painting floating objects on the blackest of blacks, and to see if I could make it beautiful and stunning.  I'm amused with all the baggage a viewer brings TO A FABRIC CHOICE.  It just goes to show how easy we are all sidetracked.

Ph:  As I told you before, the sensation of standing in a room with all of these rotating paintings was unlike anything I've experienced in a gallery.  It really threw off my center of gravity, and felt a bit like being in some sort of mystic funhouse.  I wonder if you're sad the show will be broken up into individual sales, since they presumably won't be in the same room again for quite some time, giving that same effect?

TW:  I wanted to challenge my own perceptions, and in doing so, challenge other viewers.  This exhibition may be broken up, because like my previous Freak Parade project, a book is in the works.  These paintings are meant to go out in the world.  An artist must document his or her production, but not become precious about it.  The aspect of total control should be in the studio when the work is created, and when the work is completed, the artist should release the reigns a bit.

Ph:  What happens when the batteries run out or the motor dies?  Do they come with a lifetime warranty?

TW:  The motors were built by a company that builds machines for Vegas, Times Square, etc.  They should be working for a very long time.  There was quite a bit of research and development on them.

Ph:  What are your next plans?

TW:  Several projects.  The primary one is the make my versions of the designs for the "Times of the Day" by Phillip Otto Runge.  He was an interesting German romantic artist who died before he got to paint these four crazy/visionary images.  I've loved them for a long time...even made a trip to Hamburg to see the ruins of one of his attempts.

Ph:  Would you say that art is a kind of spiritual practice for you?

TW:  I think anything done with real intensity has rewards for one's spirit.

Lori Field interview

Lori Field  "Pinky and the Brain"  2007

There are many talented artists out there, but every now and again one comes along who can perform miracles.  Lori Field's oeuvre contains exactly the kind of work that is all wrong for the internet: there is a multi-dimensionality and almost archaeological stratification to each piece that is completely lost in pixel form.  Each work is sealed with wax, and embedded with mixed media details so lovingly crafted, one feels as though they have been adorned much in the same way religious followers dress their deity idols.  Below, Ms. Field answers my questions with talk of her personal symbology, her love of outsiders, and the blessing of insomnia.

Phantasmaphile: First and foremost, what inspires you?

Lori Field: Everything from a painting I see at a museum or a gallery or in a friend’s studio, a few words or sentences from a great book I’m reading (or sometimes even a not-so-great book), something political or earth shattering or touching that has happened in the news in the world, an old photograph, a song, a piece of something someone else has thrown out by the side of the road, to an event that has happened in my own life that I just need to express something about.

Ph: What is your idea generating process like?

LF: I sometimes start with just a title, and create a piece to go with that title. Currently I’m working on a piece whose title will be ‘The World Has Teeth’. I also name a piece after I’ve done it too, or while I’m working on it I figure out what it’s about and then name it during the process of drawing and painting.  I find that my best free associative ideas come to me at two, three in the morning, sometimes after piddling around all the daylight hours and coming up with nothing, all of a sudden, at an hour when everyone else in my house is asleep, BINGO, I have a bolt of lightening hit.

Ph: Your pieces are truly unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. They are layered, cloudy jewels, encrusted with so many details and talismans. How did you develop this technique?

LF: With great difficulty and dedication. I wanted to find some way to combine my love of color and detailed drawing with my love for collage and encaustic paint’s mysterious painting qualities.  I wanted to combine figurative drawings, surrealism, symbolism, and abstract painting in a way that I hadn’t seen before and the medium of encaustic allowed me to create a very unique and idiosyncratic way of working with more traditional materials.  I started out doing drawings, mixing them with some appropriated images, sewing into them, gluing them to watercolor paper, painting a watercolor background behind the figures and then painting a few layers of pure melted beeswax over the image and ironing the wax into the paper. I watched as ordinary drawings became extraordinary ones due to the properties of the wax creating transparencies and mists over the figures. After that, I knew I wanted to do more, but I needed to take a workshop to get a greater understanding of encaustic and begin to move on to painting with beeswax, resin, and pigment.

Ph: And without giving away your trade secrets, what is your physical process like when you work?

LF:  Even giving away my ‘trade secrets’ won’t help anyone if they are going to be nefarious and attempt to replicate what I do. This medium is so difficult, temperamental, and unpredictable, only the very strong of constitution will have the patience to try and achieve with it what I have. Not conceited about my abilities really, just realistic.  Encaustic is so much trouble, trouble shooting, and still you are never able to predict just what will happen. It is very exciting, but not for the faint of heart, not to mention, very hard on your living quarters or studio.  Sometimes I think my entire floor is covered with little pieces of ground in wax.

Ph: What are your creativity rituals? Are there certain elements you prefer to have in place when you create? (Time of day, music, beverage, etc.)

LF: Well, I am a night person.  I usually spend the mornings looking for references, doing correspondence, making phone calls, packing and sending off artwork, etc. I usually don’t get started actually working on art until noon or so, and really get into it in the evenings, especially late in the evenings.  When I’m getting ready for a show, I have to adjust my ideal times to work and pretty much work all day, from 9am until 2 or 3 the next morning, with a dinner break in between (hopefully) and much grazing and much refrigerator raiding throughout the day.  I usually have ginger tea with honey once or twice, and listen to liberal talk radio while I work instead of music (music just makes me want to dance and so I waste time that should be used for drawing or painting).  I like to be informed, but I have to work, so I multi-task.  You’d be amazed what I learn about world events and what’s up with this country by listening all day. I must confess, I’m a bit of a civics geek.  Because a great deal of my work is done in reaction to world events, it is ideal for me to constantly have information coming in that I can respond to in an intuitive, stream of consciousness way.  I also respond to personal events, sometimes make a phone call to a friend or talk with a family member about something or someone and about relationships that need to be expressed in one of my little ‘psychological portraits’.

    I also have tons of reference material that I’m constantly sorting into inspirational piles. There is a black and white portable file with a ribbon that contains ideas for current work, I’m constantly adding to this file or taking things out. I’ll begin the first step of a new piece by sorting through that and laying out the ideas I think will start to comprise a new central figure.  Sometimes I have to scan and print out elements in different sizes and then I play with those, coming up with the complete figure that I will begin to draw.  Once I have lots of drawings, of heads, bodies, hats, sidekicks, blue roses, flying fish etc. done, then comes my favorite part.  It’s like playing with paper dolls: I spread all the finished and cut out drawings out on my worktable and start combining them together to make different creatures. This part often happens very late at night and I won’t go to sleep until I have at least one creature completed and ready to meet his or her background the next day.  I am a world-class insomniac, so I usually finish the work day with some yoga or exercise bike and multi-task again by reading at the same time (can’t do that with yoga, but with the exercise bike, yes) to make myself tired enough so that I can shut off my brain and sleep.

Ph: One of the things that strikes me about your work is that it feels very powerfully feminine.  Is this a conscious choice on your part?  Is being a "female" artist something you give much thought to?

LF: I had never given that much thought until one day, when I was having an invitational open studio day, one of the people who’d dropped by to see my work mentioned in passing that there were no men depicted anywhere in my paintings and drawings. I started to protest, but after looking around, and thinking about it for awhile, I realized he was mostly correct.  While there will be an occasional male figure, it is usually a somewhat androgynous young figure that is somehow boyish without being overtly masculine in any sense.  I began to be more conscious of this feminine perspective as I proceeded to work after that point and have since realized that my chosen symbolism and iconography is indeed distinctly female.  I wouldn’t characterize my work as feminist however.  I think the feminized figures are more about relaying the concept of vulnerability which is a main theme in my work.  There are also smaller elements that are extremely ‘feminine’ like my blue roses, cut-paper flowers, silver lace doilies, and flying fish.  Even my animal figures are feminine, there are lots of flamingos, monkeys and bluebirds in dresses, giraffes in 1920’s bathing costumes, etc. There are some male animal figures, but usually just a tiny bird in a little Lord Fauntleroy suit riding a bunny bareback or something similarly non-threatening.

Ph: I'm also impressed by how many different types of people and faces populate your work.  Is internationality or pan-culturalism important to you?

LF: Yes, having my figures represent a real cross section of multiculturalism is important to me. I consider myself a symbolist rather than a surrealist and my emphasis on other cultures, helps me stress another theme that is important in my work, which is the concept of the ‘other’.  People who are misunderstood, marginalized, downtrodden, mistreated, ostracized, categorized or otherwise left separate are of interest to me. The idea that one group of people could assume power or control society to such a degree that they make second class citizens out of ‘others’ who may look differently, think differently, worship differently, or choose to live differently than they do is endlessly playing itself out as drama in the history of the human species.  My little creatures, captured in their psychedelic landscapes are exaggerated in their ‘otherness’, their characteristics and fetishistic attire make them stand out like a sore thumb. They are odd.

Ph: What were you like as a child?

LF: I was an only child, a loner, always reading or drawing, an absent minded professor.  I did have close friends, but they were all artistic and a little nerdy in their own unique ways.  I was very close to older relatives in my family, like my great uncle Helmut (very gay and was friends with Marlene Deitrich when he was a young man - how cool - and he worked for London records, so I always had great music in my life when he was around), his sister, my maternal grandmother, and my grandfather.  I was mostly raised by my grandparents and had much more in common with my grandmother than with my own mother.  My grandfather was the one who got me started drawing at age two, he drew stick figures for me and I’ve been hooked ever since.  My grandmother and my grandfather got me, more so than my parents.  My dad was an artist but a very traditional one. He painted seascapes and made the most obsessively detailed ship models. I used to love and sit with him when he worked on those.

    I did love warm weather, lived part of the year in Florida (which I still call Fla-la-la) and loved to swim, run really fast, climb trees and roller skate.  I still have a home in Fla-la-la, my little pink home away from home.

Ph: What is your favorite a) sight b) sound  c) taste  d) smell  e) tactile sensation?

LF: My favorite sight is seeing my children, asleep, awake, dancing, singing, drawing, whatever they do, I am freshly amazed by them every day, corny but true.

    My favorite sound, hmmm, laughter, and summer rain, and this beautiful wind chime on my porch that always lets me know I’m home.

    My favorite taste, that’s easy.  Caviar, Beluga preferably, with blinis, sour crème, chopped onions, and ice cold Stoli in the freezer waiting.  Yum.

    Smell: Frangipani blossoms.

    Tactile sensation:  My cat Dusty Springfield’s fur - it’s like no other cat’s fur I’ve ever felt.  I could pick her out in a pitch black room full of cats, that’s how uniquely soft and silky her fur is, almost beyond soft, really.

Ph: What news would you like to share with the readers of Phantasmaphile?

LF: That I would love them to try and see my work in person and tell me what they think about it.  I love hearing all about how it makes other people feel and what it makes them think about. That is half the fun of creating it: hearing what other people get out of it, which ones they like more than others, and why.


You can see Lori Field's work in person at Kinz, Tillou, and Feigen until April 26th.

Nils Karsten Interview

Nils Karsten's piece in the Pricked: Extreme Embroidery show, up through 4/27/08

When I first started Phantasmaphile in October of 2005, I wanted it to be a space where art, magic, and the imagination could intermingle and be celebrated with some amount of (I hope) intelligence and contemporary relevance.  Though I had a stable of artists in my head whose work I couldn't wait to share, there was one artist in particular who I thought would be perfect to set the tone for this site.  Nils Karsten was selected for my first artist post ever, due to his uncanny depictions of children's psyches, replete with all of their demons and marvels.  While his work is beautifully fantastical, it also has a brutality that feels both honest and sophisticated.  It is with great delight, then, that I unveil the interview below.

Phantasmaphile:  How did you get started as an artist?

Nils Karsten:  I always drew, but to be honest I never knew what it meant to be an artist until fairly recently.  Nothing seemed as interesting as being an artist.  And I didn't like the idea to pursue a second best choice without trying to be an artist first.  I have to admit that I briefly went to law school and after dropping out I did and apprenticeship as a cabinet maker.  Finishing all that I decided to become an artist.  I still didn't know what that really meant and how I would become one.  I moved to New York and went to SVA, which was a good start, but it didn't help much to feel like an artist either.

Ph:  When did you finally start feeling like an artist?

NK:  Before I thought of myself as an artist, I referred to myself as a painter.  More as a job description than in any other meaningful way.  I think it was after my Skowhegan artist residency in 2002 that I started to feel like an artist. The previous two years were very difficult for me, I questioned myself very much and the idea of being an artist.  But all of a sudden I felt like I should just go for it, and not bail out (not really knowing what to bail out of anyway ... ).  Having a real dialogue with fellow artists in Skowhegan really made the difference!  Doubts are so much part of being an artist - and I wasn't the only one who had great doubts. 

Ph:  What are some of your influences?

NK:  People and good stories.  I love story tellers and pictures, but not together. I am always in for a good story, and I don't really care if it's a true story or not as long as it is a good one.  Pictures always inspired me, especially old photographs and images in magazines.  They had to be a little dated, so I could play time machine in my head.

    I like good art.  The first artist I really liked was Otto Dix, I got a catalogue of his work when I was 15 years old.  I was drawn to these beautiful images of crippled soldiers and hookers during the post World War I area in Germany.  I like many other artists for different reasons.  Sigmar Polke, how he uses his studio almost as a laboratory always inventing and reinventing the use of images and narratives.  Philip Guston is one of the greatest painters for me.  I love Hans Bellmer.  I like the German Surrealists of the 1930's in general quite a bit.  Henry Darger, Marlene Dumas, Martin Kippenberger and the most contemporary of them all - Goya. 

Ph:  Your pieces almost exclusively depict children: both their innocence and wonder as well as a more grotesque, shadowy side.  What is it about childhood that you find so compelling?

NK:  We were all children at some point and relied on our imagination and the perceptions of adults to survive, which is quite a conflict.  Childhood is traumatic; it's implied!  I am interested in trauma, memory and Romanticism, but not just in childhood.  Everything begins in childhood, maybe that's why my work focused so much on this first period of life as well, but I am moving on - as we do in life.  I am lot more interested in detached Romanticism, psychology in general, and yes, still people including some children, but you'll have to wait a little bit to find out what I really mean by that.  I am not completely sure yet either.

Ph:  What was your own childhood like?

NK:  My childhood was fine.  Nothing terrible at all; that doesn't mean that it wasn't traumatic, but as I said before, that is what childhood is about.  Of course I felt awkward at times, but don't we all do?  Imagination and play are the weapons of a kid to deal with stuff.  I had fun with it.  Nevertheless, I like being an adult much better now. 

Ph:  I remember the first time I saw your work, and was struck by how brave it seemed for you to take these finely rendered graphite drawings and then seem to scribble madly over them.  How did you come up with this technique?  Is it scary at all to add this top layer of doodling?

NK:  Drawing is playing a story for me.  It's almost cinematic on a piece of paper, frames over frames.  First you create a character or a thing, and then you might destroy it again.  Maybe it becomes something else, or you just don't like it anymore, or you like it too much so you have to scribble over it to see how you feel afterwards. It's just like the Pirate who looses a leg and grows a beard during the course of making a drawing.  The final drawing is the residue of the battle.

Ph:  Your most recent solo show at the Marvelli Gallery seemed to be a bit of a departure for you:  what made you want to switch from graphite to paint for this show?

NK:  I wanted to have a good reason to make large paintings on paper.  I painted on canvas before - fairly large, but I was never quite happy with the surface quality.  I tried to paint on wood as well, but I always liked paper the best.  The big breakthrough came when I used a small brush with india ink on large sheets of paper.  I immediately loved it - it felt somewhere between using a paintbrush and using a graphite pencil.  And I solved the scale problem as well.  It's funny, but that took me seven years to figure out.   Drawing is very intimate.   It's the pencil, the paper and basically my wrist, that's it.  I wanted to be more physical.  I loved the fact that I had to climb on a ladder 40 times a day to work on those large pieces.  It's a more physical experience for the viewer as well.  I feel that my small drawings operate on a more psychological level, and the large, painterly pieces are a lot more emotional, but maybe that's just me.

Ph:  What is your process like?  Is there a specific set of circumstances that you set up beforehand (a certain time, particular music, etc), or is it more free-flowing than that?

NK:  It's free-flowing to a point, but it involves preparation and planning as well.  I have a lot of ideas - constantly.  I don't think good ideas make necessarily good art.  You have to sort them out and/or let them transform during the process of making a piece.  I have to admit that I think a lot more now than I use to do, but I would still describe my process as non-linear.  I like to invent techniques, I love to steal images and ideas and make them mine. My studio is very important to me, it's a sanctuary and a torture chamber at the same time - and that's what I need, a certain amount of tension, conflict, but also some feel-good moments.  During the day I am listening to NPR.  In the evening it's music.  I love to finish a working day with a couple of beers examining the result of that particular day.  This can be a pleasant experience or quite depressing.

Ph:  You piece in the Pricked: Extreme Embroidery show at MAD is breathtaking.  There is a silvery, almost lunar sheen to the piece that seems to echo that of pencil lines.  How did this piece come about?

NK:  I was invited by Pearl Lam to make a functional piece in Shanghai that combines traditional Chinese crafts with my own work.  I could have done anything from ceramics to jade carving, but I was very much interested in embroidery.  I love drawing, and I wanted to see how far I could push it with embroidery.  I really thought it might not work out and will look a little cheesy in the end, but when I saw the first small sample I was completely convinced.  I picked silk that looked like the off-white of the paper that I am using, and the silk thread had to resemble the graphite of the pencils I am using.  It worked out very well.  The fact that somebody else was making the piece was quite intriguing to me.  All the little mistakes were embroidered as well including some pixels that showed up on the large computer print of the drawing that weren't really there.  I thought that was beautiful.

Ph:  What is your favorite sight, taste, sound, touch, smell?

NK:  I could give you a million answers here.  Well, I love JFK airport after being away from New York for a very long time!

Ph:  What are your next plans?

NK:  I am working on a new body of work!  I am very excited about the beginnings, but can't tell you much more at this point.  A couple of shows later this year and I might go to China again this summer for a little follow up piece.

Interview with Karena Karras

Karena Karras  "The Bath"

Surrealist painter Karena Karras shared her thoughts with Phantasmaphile on myriad topics such as dreams, influences, and becoming a swan.

Phantasmaphile:  When did you begin painting, and more specifically when did you feel that you finally had your own voice or vision?

 

Karena Karras: I began painting and drawing around the age of four. My mother sat down with me and showed me how to draw a face so I just took it from there. My drawings were mostly of anthropomorphized mice and other animals, some with wings and dressed in Victorian bustle back gowns.  In a way I think my own voice or vision began back then.  Once in grade school the teacher asked the class what we wanted to be when we grew up. My answer was “ a swan”.  Reality seemed so pliable and unfixed and that feeling or sensibility, this seeming reality of appearances as being intertwined, inseparable and interconnected, remained with me throughout my life.  It does not feel right to me unless this sense of “as above, so below” and this interconnectedness of all things is somehow expressed or depicted in my work.  Hence the women who are sprouting roots from their ankles and growing leafy branches or flowers instead of hair, or being part animal and part human.

 

Ph: Being an avid fan of Jung's ideas myself, I am curious to know: When did you first encounter his writings, and how has he influenced your work?

 

KK:  Carl Jung's writing began to have an impact on my work from the time that I first read “Symbols of Transformation”. It is hard for me to say exactly how Jung's writing informed my work and influenced my perceptions, since there are so many different ideologies that Jung wrote about that have been influential not only in my work but also in my daily life.  In reading Jung I began to pay more attention to my dreams and at times parts of these dreams would work their way into a painting.  Jung knew that dreams had a definite purpose that helped to reveal to the conscious mind ideologies or concepts that would otherwise have remained hidden deep within our psyche.  So, I began to analyze my dreams and kept a dream journal.  Leonora Carrington and I would go to meetings together where we would practice a technique called “focusing”. The technique was developed by Eugene Gendlin, Ph.D., and is a form of self therapy that helps to guide you and awaken you to what lies deep within your subconscious, bringing feelings to the surface where they can be analyzed and resolved.  We would sit and tell each other our dreams. One person would talk while another would just listen and then repeat what the dreamer was saying until a point was reached at which the dreamer felt an actual physical release through the telling of this dream.  This seemed to me to be a very Jungian approach to getting in touch with the collective unconscious and one’s own psyche.   Before I had encountered Jung’s writings I was reading books by Sri Aurobindo, Wilhelm Reich, Annie Besant, Krishnamurti, to name a few and also books on Alchemy and the occult. Anything dealing with the occult, in the classical Greek meaning of the word as “hidden” knowledge always fascinated me, and so I read whatever I could get my hands on.  All of these teachings and relative experiences I had in meditation eventually worked their way into my paintings in one form or another.  I feel that everything that we encounter in life that we accept as a part of our conditioned state of existence is in some way informs our work whether we are an artist or not.

 

Ph:  Your paintings play with different visual cues toward mythology. Are there any myths in particular which have a strong resonance with you?

 

KK:  There are certain types of myths that have perhaps affected my way of thinking and so would in turn affect my painting. Creation myths from different cultures are to me some of the most fascinating myths of all, along with myths dealing with different aspects of the goddess.  I can't really say that there is any one myth in particular though that I feel more of a connection with than I do others. Although some of my work is influenced by mythology, there are never any literal interpretations that could be construed as illustrative.  When I use a myth in my work it simply serves as the point of departure and the final piece might be so removed from the original myth that inspired the painting that it would be hard for anyone to see any connection to the myth that spawned the vision.

 

Ph: Generally speaking, where do your ideas come from?

 

KK: Mostly they come from something that I have read or from a personal experience that generates a vision such as in the piece “Reflection”. Years ago, while I was staying in an ashram, I was initiated into a certain type of Yoga. One night while I was meditating I had the experience of “seeing” my entire body become the Universe. I saw galaxies and star systems within my bodily form. The experience seemed so real that it stuck with me and came out years later in the painting "Reflection" as a woman looking into a mirror (there is a forest behind her that you cannot see in the online image) and instead of her reflection in the mirror she sees the Universe. Some of my work comes strictly out of a process I use quite a bit that was developed by Max Ernst called “decalcomania”, wherein paint is laid down onto a gessoed board and a sheet of paper or some other object such as a sea sponge or crumpled aluminum foil is place on top of the wet paint and then lifted up, leaving behind various interesting shapes.  I then search the shapes for definable aspects such as a face or an animal form. When they are found I begin to further define the various shapes until I have a scene that eventually becomes the finished painting. Some of what I consider to be my best work grew out of this process. It is quite automatic as the process of blotting the paint surface already produced the basic painting. I just define and embellish. “Hieros Gamos” is an acrylic painting I did that was done in this manner almost exclusively. Also, a diptych I did entitled “Insomnia” was done using this technique.

 

Ph:  Can you describe your process, from the seed of an idea to a complete work?

 

KK: The process that I use tends to vary according to what I feel would be best suited to each individual painting. Generally though, I begin with a thumbnail sketch and add notes as to color and size etc. that I want to use. From the thumbnail I usually go directly to the painting itself. I usually use about 7 – 8 layers of gesso on masonite panel. I do not really care for too smooth of a finish as I don't want my work to appear more like a print than a painting, so I just do a light sanding before I start the underpainting. I work out any major elements first onto tracing paper and then transfer them onto the gessoed board. I always work lean to fat and when building a form will always start with a very loose underpainting in various hues. I once tried doing a more finished underpainting using only Venetian red but found it to be more of a waste of my time than anything else. When doing a figure I always begin with an underpainting and almost always in terra verte. This gives a much more translucent quality to the final flesh tone than Venetian red has the capability to do. I begin a painting with the basic oval shape of the head of any figure first and always start the face with the eyes. Once the head is complete I then move on down to define the rest of the body.  I always finish the head and face completely before moving down to the rest of the body gradually. I usually lay down the middle tones first, then the darks and then the lights and finish with a little scumbling technique to add to the sense of depth and dimension. I also do quite a bit of glazing and at times will have a build up of about 6 – 10 layers of glaze in certain areas.  I like to use a 3/0 down to an 18/0 brush for most of the detail work and a #4 pointed round for larger areas. Very large areas such as backgrounds or the ground are usually done with a size 10 -11 flat. I use a mix of dammar varnish and turpentine to varnish my oil paintings and depending on the piece will sometimes go back much later (6 months later or so) with a good high gloss finishing varnish.

 

 

Ph: I was fascinated to read on your site that you had a friendship with Leonora Carrington. How did you meet her, and did you learn anything from her which may have influenced your work?

 

KK:  Leonora Carrington and I met outside of a gallery in the River North art district in Chicago.  We began talking about how we were the only two people outside smoking (I no longer smoke) and as we talked we realized that we lived only five minutes from each other. I live in the city but am right outside of Oak Park, Illinois, and at the time she was living in Oak Park near Madison and Oak Park Ave. in an apartment building.  She asked me to meet with her for lunch and also wanted to see my work. So, that is how we met. Later as we lunched together we began to see that we had many common interests.  She is a Tibetan Buddhist and I was initiated into Tibetan Buddhism by the Dalai Lama himself when he was visiting the Madison Wisconsin area several years prior to my meeting Leonora.  We both seemed to enjoy similar things like discussions concerning the spiritual and the occult.  She told me that my painting reminded her of Remedios Varo’s work.  At the time I was not really familiar with the work of Remedios Varo but looking back now I can see how she would have seen similarities.  As far as learning anything from her that influenced my work I must say that I learned quite a bit. I was already painting the way that I am now, but Leonora's work and also a book that she gave me entitled “Angels Fear” by Gregory Bateson and Mary Catherine Bateson, changed my way of thinking about not only my approach to my work but about life.  I cannot help but feel that there is a bit of Leonora's influence that has worked its way into my approach to painting, but I try to keep her influence at bay, so to speak. My painting comes out of my own experiences and no matter how much I might admire Leonora’s work, or the work of Remedios Varo, my approach to painting will always remain uniquely my own.  A Chicago art critic named Kevin Nance who wrote a review on a show of my work said in his review that my work takes off from where Leonora and Remedios left off.  In a sense I do see a direct connection to these two Surrealist painters that I so admire and cannot help but feel that my work is a continuation of that line of work. Right before Leonora left Chicago, she told me that she wanted me to have her work table that Pablo (Leonora's son) had built for her. This table is one of my prized possessions and truly makes me feel a 'connection' to her and the surrealists in general. Leonora influenced my way of thinking though more than anyone else and also helped me to resolve my fear of growing old. We had long discussions (and sometimes arguments) in coffee shops around Oak Park about things like the word “metaphysics”, that would last for hours, then go back to her apartment where she would fix me her favorite drink, Bombay Gin (she is English after all), Ginger Ale, crushed green peppercorns, and lime juice – very good!  Her views concerning spirituality and the world will always have an influence on my life.

 

Ph:  How often do you paint, and how do you make time for it?

 

KK: I paint on the average of about six hours on the days that I am working in my studio. There are times when I will do an 8 – 10 hour stretch for a while when I am getting work ready for a show. I always regret the days that I do not paint, unless I spent time doing something that I felt was equally as meaningful. Sometimes life just has a way of taking one away from their work or goals, but I have had to learn to prioritize.  The only way that I can get a really good amount of painting done is to make that my priority. I remember times when I was at Leonora’s and someone would call her on the phone and most of the time she did not even answer unless she was expecting a call.   Leonora would always complain about certain things, as being time wasters, and I think that is something that I picked up from her.  Some things, and some relationships, are important and even necessary and others are not.  So, it basically is a kind of juggling act wherein I just try to make sure that most of what I am juggling has to do with my work. One day I was having tea with Leonora when a woman from a paper in Germanyknocked on the apartment door unannounced. Days earlier Leonora had told the woman on the phone that she did not care to give an interview, but the woman flew to Chicago anyway. Leonora sent the woman away in tears by refusing to let her into the apartment. At the time I thought this was quite mean but upon reflection I began to see that it was a necessary thing that had to be done in order for Leonora to be able to be the master of her own world without letting everyone else overrunning it just for the sake of being nice.

 
Ph:  Who are your favorite artists?

 

KK: When I was a young girl I would go to the museum of the Art Institute of Chicago and spend most all of my time there in front of three paintings, “The Rock” by Peter Blume, “Village of the Mermaids” by Paul Delvaux and “Making of the Monsters” by Salvadore Dali.  All that I wanted to do was to be able, someday, to paint such wonderful things. So, the three artists I just mentioned and of course Leonora Carrington’s work, will never cease to fascinate me. Then there are artists like Lawrence Alma-Tadem, Sandro Botticelli, Belgian Symbolist painters Jean Delville and Fernand Khnopff, Hieronymus Bosch, Pieter Bruegel, Raphael, Max Ernst, Dorothea Tanning, Leonor Fini, John Wilde and the Pre-Raphaelite painters, Evelyn DeMorgan, Marie Spartali Stillman and Kate Bunce, just to mention a few. There are more but these are ones whose work I admire the most.

 

Ph:  What inspires you?

 

KK:  What inspires me most is looking at the work of other artists whose work I admire. Watching a red/orange sunset is something that always fills me with inspiration and the desire to paint. Reading writings by other artists and reading certain books on philosophy, psychology or the occult and coming across a passage that I relate to on a deeper level will at times bring an image for a painting to mind. This last one, for me, serves as one of the most powerful forms of inspiration.

 

Ph:  Do you have any plans to exhibit here in New York?

 

KK: I have no plans to show in New York at the present, though if the right opportunity presented itself I would be inclined to show there. I was treated quite badly and unethically in 2005 by a gallery director of a certain River North gallery.  Since then I have turned my attention more to just doing my work and not trying to find places to show unless I feel that the person/place who wants to show my work is trustworthy with a well developed sense of ethics.  Although, I have plans for several shows in 2007, I still remain a bit shy of approaching other galleries. The process of painting itself is what is most important to me, not necessarily the showing of my work. 

 

Ph:  What is your favorite a) taste, b) sound, c) sight, d) smell, and e) tactile sensation?

 

KK:  In order, taste is marzipan, sound is the silver flute, sight is anything blood red except blood, smell is freshly ground coffee, and tactile sensation is my three lovely dogs fur coats. Odd question that.

 

Ph:  Are you superstitious?

 

KK:  I suppose so. I watch for omens like which direction a red robin outside my window takes flight, or sometimes when, for instance, I place an object on a table I get the strange feeling that if I place it on one spot something terrible will happen but if I place it somewhere else on the table everything will be all right. I always wear an uneven number of antique charms on a cord around my neck. Once, an incident with Leonora made me leery of even throwing a pin into the garbage. We had just come back from shopping and I was looking at a top that she had purchased and found a pin in it so I took it out and was about to throw it into the garbage and she stopped me. She told me never to throw away a pin as it will bring bad luck and since that day I have never thrown away a pin. I now have a preponderance of them in various drawers in my house.  Another time we went all through Leonora’s apartment to find anything that was part of a dead animal. Someone had just given her a mummified salamander that they had found in a cave in Spain, and she wanted me to go to the park with her so that we could bury it. She then decided to have a mass burial of all animal based items (especially bones) in her apartment (excluding leather purses and shoes). She did not want any “demons” in her abode. I think though that this was more of a Tibetan Buddhist belief rather than a superstition.

 

Ph: Is there any news or work of yours you would like me to share with Phantasmaphile’s readers?

 

KK: I have new work that I can email you images of, work that is not on my website, but I need to have the pieces photographed with a digital camera first.  If you like, I can let you know where my upcoming shows will be when I have the exact dates, times etc. after I sit down with the curators. One show will be at the Vanderpool Museum in October 2007, and several others are in the works but the dates and times are not finalized. If anyone would like more information on me or my work please note that I am no longer associated in any way with Gruen Galleries, and they should simply visit my website at www.karenakarras.com to e-mail me personally.

Ph: Your painted world seems to be populated entirely by women, or perhaps one woman. Would you say that you are creating a form of self portraiture?

 

KK:  Some friends of mine who are also artists told me that they see me in the women that I paint. I fail to see this myself, but of course, is not all work, in a sense, a form of self portraiture?

Interview with Carrie Ann Baade

Carrie Ann Baade  "Death and the Maiden"

I had the great privilege of getting to peer into Carrie Ann Baade's mind's eye: 

Phantasmaphile: For starters, when did you begin painting, and more specifically, when did you you develop your signature "painted collage" style?

Carrie Ann Baade: I had a complete collapse in grad school. I could not figure out how to be like all my dead art heroes - Bosch, Fuseli, Moreau, Knopf - but be a part of Now.  During this struggle, I had to start over. I had to go back to the beginning... in search of the armature, I rediscovered the artists’ first gallery, the refrigerator door.  Upon the door were a sentimental photograph of my infant niece and the Christmas gift of magnets made from cut up discount art books.  By moving some of these magnets over the photograph, the child’s eyes were covered with those from a Northern Renaissance portrait.  A Boschian creature was placed on top of her head to serve as an ornamental hat.  Lastly, a Durer Christ child and a Madonna’s hand scaled perfectly to that in the sentimental photo were placed on the arms in the photo.  The completed the transformation was far more interesting than reality.  After several attempts at turning the image into a painting, the foundation for understanding the difference between collage and pastiche occurred.  Through research, I realized that the amalgam of images had precedence in the appropriation art of the 80’s which is described as the advent of the citation style in painting and other mediums.  “Appropriation art” stresses the intentionality of the act of borrowing and the historical attitude of the borrower.  By building upon this accepted practice, my paintings incorporate these purloined fragments and keep the physical identity of the different motifs preserved from the overall unity.   

Ph:  I'm sure you must answer this question a lot, but I would be remiss if didn't inquire about the ubiquity of eyes in your works.  We've all heard the expression "The eyes are the window to the soul."  What is it about eyes in particular that resonates so deeply with you?

CAB: My great grandmother was a doll maker.  I grew up with many unusual dolls…my collection was pretty extensive.  One day when I was about four, all their little starring eyes become too much and when next my mother entered my room, all of the dolls were turned around facing the wall.  Eyes are intense, creepy in their ability to communicate so much of the internal world while simultaneously taking all that they observe. The treatment almost every character in my paintings receives is a new set of eyes.  The eyes share a role in attribute, symbol, disguise, and the telling of a story through a story.  The eye takes the outside world into the inner, and can also project the inner world onto the outer. 

Ph:  You seem to play around with ideas of layering, facade, and adornment.  It's rather incredible, as portraiture tends to be entirely superficial, and yet you have invented this visual language which allows the viewer to mine deeper into the figure's psyche.  Are you ever surprised by what emotions lie within your characters, or do you know beforehand who they really are and how they're really feeling?

CAB: Folks have asked me about the chicken and egg aspect of my work: Do you start with the idea then go make a collage or do you look at your collage stuff and then interpret the meaning? The answer is part tarot and part advent calendar.  I have questions in mind when I am composing, I am searching for a solution to say...this feeling I have about the correlation between women and snakes and the moon. I collect images, I dive into my piles of cut outs that I have been archiving for the past 5 years. The composition of the collage can be immediate or go through 15 hours of revisions.  It is like reading cards, the answer will come as I am searching and the answer is usually visually surprising. The most exciting part is when I am painting and the collage begins to fall apart and elements that were buried under layers start to resurface. The composition changes and new elements are opened up out of the underlying layers like an advent calendar.

Ph:  There are a lot of allusions in your works, both historical and mythological (Napoleon, Venus, Kali, et al).  Why have you chosen to depict the characters you do?

CAB: During the first few years of this series, I was interested in somewhat cautionary tales of figures of power. What makes someone powerful? How do they rule the world?  What are the consequences of ruling?  Do- be- play large means that there are casualties, or someone else will be defeated or hurt. The symbols and myths I am keeping alive provide a cautionary tale of my own.

Ph:  I may be reading into things too much here, but many of your paintings appear to be self-portraits.  Would you say that's accurate?

CAB: My nose and mouth make frequent appearances, which is strange because my eyes are said to be my best feature and I am remiss to make myself that vulnerable. The eyes are often Christ's from Our Man of Sorrow images or the Lady of Sorrow who is Mary.  This opens up a whole new interpretation of images.  I can say this: I was drawn to these images without knowing when or where they were from. Once I found out, then I looked specifically for the early primitive Netherlandish images for more and even traveled to Belgium twice in search of more eyes. Currently, I am creating paintings with no eyes.

Ph:  Can you walk me through your process, from the start of a work to its end?

CAB: Idea!, snip, cut, and collect - with lots of cello tape!, play and laugh at how funny images can be, revisions for 12 years, prepare copper, transfer image, paint in grisaille....totally tonal image with no chroma, paint in color, glaze and glaze, agonize, tell the painting it is the most beautiful thing that I have EVER created, frame, eject from studio to be hung in the gallery never to be seen again....next!

Ph:  You've lived all over the country: New Orleans, Colorado, Chicago, Delaware, and now Philadelphia.  How has your experience living in these locations influenced your work?

CAB: Italy, Amsterdam,but a tourist in Egypt, Ireland, Turkey...if it's in Europe, I think I have been there.  I am a museum geek.  When on vacation, I don't go to the beach.  I own almost nothing, but I have been to many of the major museums in the world, over and over.  I do not know where I belong.  I do not know where I should be.  Up until recently, all the artists I loved were dead and I had no idea why I should be now.  I am still searching for my audience, my collectors, and where I will be most comfortable as a struggling artist.  I suppose I am best described as a “cultural nomad”.  Architecture comforts me, bridges turn me on, museums get my blood going.

Ph:  I live in Brooklyn, one of New York City's five boroughs.  I keep hearing Philadelphia be referred to as "the sixth borough."  What is the art scene like out there, and would you say there's a kinship with NYC?

CAB: I must admit, I need to go to more openings in Philadelphia.  I know Philly is conservative, but the great and awesome Judith Schaechter creates here! I show at Rosenfeld Gallery where I am the only dark, deviant, surrealist in the fold, but I have a small and alert group of collectors. Lineage is the new "Juxtapoz" gallery and Jonathan Levine heralds it as one of the top 5 in the nation for this type of work.  Philadelphia feels like a it is awakening with new potential with several little gem galleries but they must be sought out.  Philadelphia is knowable where NYC feels overwhelming to me.

Ph:  How often do you paint, and how do you make time for it?

CAB: I am unemployed myself - so time but no money. For the last 13 months I have devoted myself 24/7 to my career painting.  I don't recommend it, but it was the jump out of the plane with out a parachute: CAN YOU FLY?  I paint on average 30 to 40 hours a week, but paper work sucks up about another 40.

Ph:  Who are your favorite artists?

CAB: Judith Schaechter!  Kris Kuksi, Liz McGrath, Julie Heffernan, Kara Walker, Dali, and Cathy de Monchaux.

Ph:  What inspires you?

CAB: Jim Henson, J.M. Barry, Cervantes, Poe, Di Vinci, Elizabeth McGrath, Judith Schaechter, Mark Twain, Hemmingway, Virginia Wolf, Napoleon, Queen Elizabeth I, Jules Verne, and Madeline L'Engle. J.K. Rowling. Marcel du Champ, Dali, Picasso, Terry Gilliam, C.S. Lewis, Anias Nin, Emily Dickinson, Christ, and all rebelling angels.

Ph:  Are you superstitious?

CAB: It feels better NOT to step on cracks.

Ph: What is your favorite a) taste b) sound  c)sight   d) smell and e) tactile sensation?

CAB: a) grapefruit  b) jazz in resonating in the corridors of city buildings  c) Gaudi's Cathedral, sunrise in cemetaries, and home after being away d) beniets from Cafe Du Monde in New Orleans and e) skin...living skin.

Ph:  Do you have any plans to exhibit here in New York?

CAB: If all goes well I have work in 3 shows: KFMK Galleries, Strychnin, and Fuse Gallery – all this October!

Ph:   Is there any news or work of yours you'd like me to share with Phantasmaphile's readers?

CAB: Metamorphoses is being released soon: a coffee table book of visionary artists put out by Jon Bienart of The Visionary Artist Forum of Australia....has Geiger and Alex Grey and loads of other greats. And everyone come to Strychnin - opening October 27th! The Dark Surrealists will be taking over NYC!

Ph:  Generally speaking, where do your ideas come from?   

CAB: My pain that I can not talk about, my sorrow that seems overflow, my rage that cannot be extinguished easily.  Then this raw material is thrown into the machine of cut and paste.  I have read a bit and taught art history so I have a fair knowledge of mythology, religious symbolism, stories of creation so I am trying to tell my own story through old stories and hybrid them into a new one.  I am comforted by precedent and I feel that I am validated in the tragedies, calamities, and general human failure that plague existence.  Also these are so very cliché yet, everyone's individual cliché is so authentic when it is happening to them.  Experience is universal and individual.  I hope my work is a record of my experience but simultaneously speaking to others about their individual human condition.  There are so many powerful things that happen that we can not speak of politely.

Richard A. Kirk Interview

Richard A. Kirk  "Split Infinity"  2006

Canadian artist Richard A. Kirk took time out of his incessant working schedule to talk about illustration, inspiration, and the importance of playtime:

Phantasmaphile:  When did you begin painting, and more specifically, when did you feel you finally had your own voice or vision?

Richard A. Kirk: That is a deceptively difficult question. The easy answer is that I have always drawn.  At some point though, there is a threshold where it changes from an unconscious, playful activity to something more conscious, where you are focused on developing your technique. At the risk of sounding high flown, in some ways my development as an artist is a journey back to that original state of play or at least finding a balance.  The biggest difference between my art production now and say 10 years ago is that I can find what pleases me artistically with a lot more speed and confidence. A lot of that comes from simple experience.

Ph:  Your site says you were born in England, though you are now a Canadian artist.  Did this migration influence your work in any way?

RK: That migration was very early in my life.  It influenced me in that in my imagination, England was a mythical place. I was more likely to draw Daleks than Superman.  I was greatly influenced by English artists, particularly the classic illustrators and the pre-Rapahelite painters.

Ph:  Your site also says that you have been influenced by children's book illustrations and insects.  Which ones in particular (of either) have really left an impression on you?

RK: Wow, there are so many. Sidney Sime, E. H. Shepard, Beardsley and Mervyn Peake immediately come to mind.  Later on Redon and Max Klinger; Symbolists. Klinger's "A Glove" was a huge influence on my work.  I think I was attracted to these artists initially because they worked with an incredible level of creativity with a medium that was readily available to me. They could unleash worlds with a bottle of ink and a pen nib.  I've never gotten over the simplicity of that.  In terms of insects I must admit an affection for the leaf mantis and paper wasps.  Oh yes Rackham, of course, getting back to influences. How could you not love storks with human hands?  Like Rackham, I am all about the line.

Ph:  Generally speaking, where do your ideas come from?  And more specifically, does each symbol have rational meaning for you, or is it a more unconscious process?

RK: I am interested in liminal things; protean forms.  The generation of ideas is both conscious and unconscious.  I draw things that I enjoy looking at like birds, insects, trees and books.  Over time, I have developed a kind of personal iconography. I try to develop work that tells a story, perhaps not the same story for everyone, but also leaves many questions unanswered.  I love mystery in a work of art. Have you read Little, Big by John Crowley?  The idea of worlds within worlds interests me very much, like the house Edgewood in the book; a house that inside is many houses.

Ph:  Can you describe your process, from the seed of an idea to a complete work?

RK: I generally work on one image at a time.  I come up with a fragment of an image and draw it out.  Next I pencil, in detail, what I think will be the key areas of the image.  Following that I begin the time consuming process of rendering the image in ink, silverpoint or paint. I always leave some room for last minute inspiration and compositional corrections.

Ph:  Your work is beautifully meticulous.  How long does it take to create an extremely detailed piece such as "The Stolen Key?"

RK: With ink and silverpoint about 1 square inch per hour. I am not kidding, it's almost that neat.

Ph:   You keep mentioning the technique of “silverpoint.” Can you please explain it for those Phantasmaphile readers (such as myself) who may be unfamiliar with it?

RK: Silverpoint is a drawing technique where you work on a prepared ground with a wire of silver. The ground is "toothy" (imagine a surface like flat wall paint) and in my case comprised of white gouache on a plate finish archival illustration board. It's possible to get very fine lines which can be built up with cross-hatching. Of course, because it is silver it tarnishes over time, developing a beautiful brownish tone.

Ph:  How often do you paint, and how do you make time for it?

RK: I try to work whenever I can.  I've learned to appreciate the value of the cumulative effort.  I have a extremely supportive wife!

Ph:  Who are your favorite artists?

RK: There are many - off the top of my head, Eva Hesse, Kiki Smith, The Brothers Quay, Svankmajer, Eric Dinyer, anyone with the last name Wyeth. I could go on forever. Rosamond Purcell.

Ph:  What inspires you?

RK: I like to see things in ways that are unexpected.  The image that immediately came to mind was a photograph by Rosamond Purcell of an old book with roots growing out of it.  I find the indefinable beauty and unexpectedness of that kind of image to be very inspiring. It inspires me to try and create images that make you pause, that make you uneasy or excited in ways you can't quite put your finger on.

Ph:  Do you have any plans to exhibit here in New York?

RK: Yes.  Absolutely, but it's nothing I can really talk about yet.

Ph:  What is your favorite a) taste  b) sound  c)sight  d) smell  and e) tactile sensation?

RK: Of course these could change in an instant but here goes: a) Indian food, b) wind in trees at night, c) deep water, d) fresh ink, e) old books.

Ph:  Is there any news or work of yours you'd like me to share with Phantasmaphile's readers?

RK: I will be having a couple of pieces of work in the Kunstsalon Berliner in September and the upcoming Arcanum show in NYC in October.  Both of these shows are through Strychnin Gallery.  I am also working on a cycle of work that I am very excited about which is mostly ink and silverpoint drawing, [as well as] some giclee print portfolios of work done originally for the Drawing the Line comic anthology.  The portfolios were created by Luna7.com and all proceeds are going towards cancer research. Interested readers can keep up on general goings on through my blog!

Ph:  Are you superstitious?

RK: No. But saying that made my skin crawl a bit.

Interview with Peter Lewis

Peter Lewis "Free Your Mind" 2005

New Zealand collage artist Peter Lewis discusses symbols, scalpels, and the secret of his success:

Phantasmaphile: Your web site states that you've been doing collage since 1990. How did you begin?

Peter Lewis: I began by imitating the booklets that came with Dead Kennedys albums. I can't find a picture of one right now, but they were basically montages of weird news stories and photos. I found that it was pretty hard to collect that amount of weird news stories though, especially in sleepy small-town New Zealand, so I quickly moved on to collaging photos and illustrations instead. Around the same time I had a book about computers which used collaged illustrations made from Victorian etchings. These eventually inspired me to try similar things about five years ago when I discovered the Dover books of reproductions of Victorian etchings, and the collage work of Max Ernst.

Ph: Many of your works are rife with esoteric symbols and mythological references. Is esoterica something you have studied, or do these images simply resonate with you on an aesthetic level?

PL: For the most part they just resonate on an aethestic level, but I'm also inspired by Mark Ryden's paintings which are full of the same kind of symbols, making playhouses look like masonic temples. Here's an example.  Sometimes the symbols and references have personal meaning, such as the portrait of my wife,"You're My Queen" - which is filled with things that are important to her, or "Planet Janet" - which includes a lot of my personal symbols / themes (cats, robots, combinations of the two, kitsch, science fiction). At the same time, the use of esoteric symbols is a comment, albeit a confused one, on the idea of hidden symbols and meanings in art - should a piece of art communicate itself immediately and clearly, or should it be necessary for the viewer to know something of the artist's background and themes in order be to able to understand their meaning?  I think there's validity in both approaches, but at the same time, art without hidden depths risk being labelled as shallow, and art with hidden meaning risks being labelled exclusionary and esoteric.

Ph: I know that coming up with titles can be challenging for an artist. I love yours though. How do you come up with them?

PL: Hah, I pilfer a great deal of them from song titles, others are puns I makeup as needed. Looking at the latest ten works on my website, four of them have titles taken from songs and a couple of others are inspired by or even quoting directly from text that's in the collages themselves. Sometimes a title will come to me partway through the creation of a piece, but just as often it won't be until I've scanned the completed piece and am about to post it in my blog that I come up with a title.

Ph: You strike me as a bit of a treasure hunter. Where do you find all of these images? And are there ever any copywrite issues you need to be mindful of?

PL: I try to be careful not to use anything too recent or obviously-recognisable. While this doesn't exempt me from copyright issues, it does at least minimise the risk of running into trouble. Using older images almost exclusively is something I started doing for practical reasons, but it has become part of my style now, and I rarely use recent images at all now. There's also the Dover books which I use for my black-and-white / Victorian collages. You can use, I think, up to ten images from a single publication in a single collage without breaching their copyright conditions. While I don't keep a methodical count of how many I use, I have a lot of their books and try to use a range of them for each collage.  I collect source material from a variety of sources - my wife is used to me asking for more Dover books for Christmas every year and I trawl junkshops and dusty bookstores for old childrens books and encyclopedias. The city I live in also has a 24 Hour Book Sale very year, which is an excellent place to get armfuls of books.

Ph: Having done a bit of collage myself, I know it is an extremely meticulous process. How long does it generally take you to create one piece, and what tools do you use?

PL: I use a scalpel for cutting and a glass sheet as a cutting surface, which provides a very smooth cutting surface. Each collage takes maybe five to ten hours, it's hard to estimate though as I don't usually do them in a single sitting.

Ph: Where do your ideas come from? Do you have a picture in mind, and then search for the appropriate elements? Or are the pieces dictated by whichever elements you happen to stumble upon?

PL: Sometimes I'll have a picture in mind, but it's usually been inspired by an image I've come across while working on a previous collage. I have a notebook where I scribble little notes like "fish, P65 'Space', with astronaut, P198 'Science Encyc 1966'", so that I don't forget them. The other images that end up in the final collage are dictated by whatever I stumble upon, but the overall design is usually spawned from an initial idea as described above. Sometimes I'll have a theme or subject in mind, but I try not to get too hung up on exactly how I want it to look before starting, otherwise I end up spending a long time looking for the perfect image that fits my vision rather than being flexible and 'going with the flow'. For the same reason, I'm cautious about accepting commissions and illustration work. I try to make sure that people know that I don't know in advance how a piece is going to turn out and that it's dictated by what images I have / can find, so if they're after something like "a blonde woman in a blue dress dancing with butterflies in Central Park", then they're better off going to someone who can draw that kind of thing from scratch!

Ph: In further detail, can you walk me through your process of creating a piece, from start to finish?

PL: I'll start by painting a canvas usually, which involves leaning it against some cardboard and spraying with diluted acrylic paint so that one end is covered and the excess runs across the rest of the canvas leaving coloured streaks. Once the first coat dries, I turn it up the other way and repeat the process using a different colour. After 6-8 coats it's ready, and I take it into my studio and start looking for images that inspire me and that suit the colour scheme of the canvas. Once I've found enough (usually the biggest ones that will form the focus of the collage and most of the medium-sized ones), I'll lay them out on the canvas and move them around (I call it 'auditioning') until I'm happy with the way they work together and that I'm going to keep them all for the final collage. I'll then cut them out with my trusty scalpel and glue them to the canvas with Mod Podge. This is tricky because Mod Podge can cause paper to curl, and once it's stuck down you can't remove and reposition it, even 10 seconds later! Once I've glued and smoothed the bigger pieces, I'll pile books on top of the collage to keep it pressed flat while the glue dries and spend a little while cutting out some more pieces ready for the next round of gluing. Once the piece is complete, I scan it, sign it, and then put a couple of layers of Mod Podge over the top to seal it.

Ph: As Winston Smith noted on your site, you are INCREDIBLY prolific. In addition to the dozens and dozens of collages you've created, you are also a musician and a writer. How do you find the time for all of this? And when do you decide to stop collaging and work on a song, or vice versa?

PL: I don't really do any writing any more, but manage to create a couple of collages and maybe a song each month, too. The secret? Don't watch TV! I watch about 3-4 hours of TV a week and so apart from household chores etc. I'm free to spend the rest of my not-at-work time working on creative projects. I usually do a couple of collages and then decide to do music for awhile, and after completing a song I'm back to collaging again. This will no doubt all change when our first child arrives at the end of the year, so I'm probably subconsciously working myself harder to produce as much work as I can while I have time to.

Ph: Do you work on several pieces at once?

PL: Very occasionally, but I've found it's usually less than successful - my attention and focus is spread between them both and consequently neither gets the attention it deserves. I tend to end up with two substandard pieces and so I've found it's better to just make notes about the second idea, and put any images I've found for it aside and concentrate on one idea at a time!

Ph: I noticed that octopi seem to resonate with you a great deal. Are there any other symbols you find yourself drawn to? And why do you think they have a particular resonance with you?

PL: Planets and spaceships, as well as fish and dinosaurs and miscellanous science fiction things. All things I was fascinated with as a kid, and therefore use to demonstrate my view of the world as a scene viewed through the subjective lens of bias and experience. On any number of levels, conscious and subconscious, we recognise the familiar and resonant in many situations, and that colours our perceptions and responses to those situations.

Ph: You have begun to do some collages on painted canvases, rather than paper. How did this transition come about, and what are the differences between the two mediums for you?

PL: It started as a cynical ploy to be taken more seriously as an artist because people seem to consider art to be Art (with a capital A) if it's on canvas. It also seemed like an easy way of making art that was ready to hang instead of just on paper, which carries an additional framing cost for me or for any potential purchaser. Using painted canvas backgrounds has meant that I've had to create collages that stand apart from, while still complementing, the background. With paper collage, the pasted images can become one with the background eg. if the background is a cityscape, I can paste people standing on top of the buildings, coming out of doorways etc. Here's an example.  But with painted backgrounds there's nothing there to hang images onto, so I have to build the whole thing from scratch. Sometimes that's hard, but I usually enjoy the challenge! It also means that I'm not producing as much work as I did when I was working exclusively on paper, but the work I am producing is perhaps more well thought out.

Ph: You seem to be a true pioneer when it comes to harnessing the power of the internet to sell your work directly to your collectors. How has this platform changed the way you work?

PL: Hmm, it hasn't really changed the way I work as such, though it sometimes motivates me to create more work. I usually wait til I have five new pieces before updating my site, and if I've got four I'll usually try to put aside time to do a fifth so I can update the site. I haven't really found it all that effective as a selling tool, although I must admit to having spent no money advertising my work. There's just so many art sites out there, promising a lot for their fees, that it's hard to know which one is going to expose my work to the best audience. I'm not in a position to take a number of $100 gambles trying to find out. I still sell prints from time to time, though the response has been disappointing since I started offering Giclee prints on Kodak paper instead of just laser prints. While the internet is a great place to display and promote art, it's not always a great place to sell it - people are always looking for something for free or a cheap bargain.

Ph: Do you have any plans to exhibit here in New York?

PL: No specific plans, but if an affordable opportunity came up I'd certainly be interested in exhibiting in New York!

Ph: What inspires you?

PL: Bright and colourful things! I love bright colours, particularly blues and greens. Art with a good sense of humour, beauty in its many forms, cats, great art.

Ph: What is your favorite a) taste b) sound c) sight d) scent e) tactile sensation?

PL: a) Chocolate (to the detriment of my waistline) b) Big luscious synths c) Natural beauty d) Freshly-cut grass or damp roads e) Being tickled lightly on my upper back

Ph: Are you superstitious?

PL: Hmm, no, not really. Maybe a little, but I like black cats. In fact I like all cats.

Ph: Which current artists' work do you particularly like?

PL: Many of the so-called 'Lowbrow' artists like Mark Ryden, Todd Schorr, Robert Williams, Camille Rose Garcia, Angie Mason, Scott Saw. Also collage artists whose work I've discovered online, like Soma, Joyce, and Angelica.

Ph: Is there any news or work of yours would you like me to share with Phantasmaphile readers?

PL: Yes, as a matter of fact there is some news: I'm going to be featured in a documentary about Outsider Art being made here in New Zealand. I was contacted by the maker a couple of years ago about being involved, and he's finally secured funding and support from the main TV station here, so he's flying down to meet me this weekend to discuss filming. Here are a couple of recent canvas pieces, I consider them some of my best work yet: "Mrs. Fishes" and "We're a Happy Family."

Ph: I admit I know next to nothing about New Zealand, other than the Lord of the Rings frenzy which you must be sick to death of. What is the art scene like down there?

PL: Well, LOTR keeps all the short and hairy people here employed, posing as hobbits and scamming tourists. I can't tell you too much about the art scene to be honest, I'm not heavily involved in it. Probably like anywhere, there are the old guard whose time has passed, some genuinely brilliant and innovative artists, some artists of the "yesterday's rebel turned today's establishment star" variety, and a lot of talented unknowns waiting / hustling / pushing for their big break. I've met some really neat people, great artists and supportive enthusiasts, since I started showing my work. It's been really encouraging :)

Interview with Brook Caballero

Brook Caballero "Mountain Choir"

The inimitable Brook Caballero sat down to answer some questions about craft and creatures:

Phantasmaphile: As an east coaster, my visions of California usually involve beaches and copious amounts of sun. Yet your work as a California artist depict snowscapes and chilly woodland creatures. What makes these types of imagery resonate with you?

Brook Caballero: I grew up in Nevada City, California (about three hours east of San Francisco in the Sierra foothills). It's nothing like southern California: no beaches and no signs of Hollywood. In the seventies, a lot of back to the land hippies migrated here including my parents. There are lots of trees and animals, amazing rivers and occasionally snow. In fact there is snow falling outside my studio window right now. A lot of unique and creative people have settled here. Terry Riley, U.Utah Phillips, and Gary Snyder are among the locals. My surroundings have definitely influenced my painting.

Ph: I happen to have an obsession with deer, which is what attracted me to your work in the first place. As I mentioned before, I discovered a postcard reproduction of "Girl with Antlers" in a bar on the Lower East Side, which I happily took home. What is it about deer or elks that strike you?

BC: I think of the antlers on humans not just as "whimsy." It has to do with synchronizing to animal time. A lot of my imagery talks about humans integrating with nature. Not just our external environment but also our inner nature. I want to convey the unfamiliar yet familiar moment of acute awareness beyond the every day conscious mind. I'm also interested in conveying a sense of hope or peace, a kind of peak moment that arises when connected to our inner most being.

Ph: Can you talk a bit about your work flow and process? For example, do you work on several pieces at once? Do you do many sketches and studies beforehand?

BC: I start by compiling images from Google searches, magazines, and my own photographs. Then from this pool of images I create collages in Photoshop. I then use the collage as a reference for a painting. Just as often, I start directly on the canvas with no plan at all. I then create some kind of atmosphere or landscape that I photograph, import into Photoshop and add to it. I then paint the additions.

Ph: On a broader range, where do your ideas come from?

BC: There is an earth science museum in the basement of the building where I live and work. Down there is a wall with jungle wallpaper on it. I discovered you can walk through the wall and on the other side it's kind of like Narnia. I usually bring a net with me when I go. This is where I get my ideas. Everywhere...The collective unconscious.

Ph: Your watercolor technique is beautiful - delicate, yet very rich in color. When did you start working in this medium, how did you learn, and what do you like about it?

BC: I started making watercolors while is was living in Oakland in 2002-2003. I was living in a submarine/cave and there wasn't a lot of space. In order not to asphyxiate from using solvents I started making watercolors. Originally I thought it would be nice to work with watercolors because of its tendency to have a life of its own. Watercolor does really interesting stuff if you let it. I like the simplicity of just water and pigment. Also I like the idea of painting with such an important and basic element as water.  Eventually I found that I could control watercolor just as much as oil paint. This allowed me to have a wide range of control and lack of control. Also at this time I discovered the work of Dr. Masaru Emoto who photographs water crystals affected purely by intent. This discovery had a big effect on me.

Ph: Do you find yourself trying to incorporate Emoto’s philosophies/techniques during your painting process? In other words, are you actually consciously sending thoughts of "positive intention" into your medium?

BC: I wouldn’t say that I consciously send positive thought into my medium, but I do try to be aware of my own intent. When you focus for hours on creating an object it ultimately becomes charged with your intent and has the ability to resonate that intent.

Ph: Are you superstitious?

BC: I'm not black cat superstitious but I do pay attention to synchronicities. You got to watch for the signs.

Ph: What are you working on now?

BC: Right now I am working for a solo show at Julie Baker Fine Art in May. I just started a series of modestly sized oil paintings. They are similar to the watercolors as far as content and after a lot of glazing, similar in luminosity as well. Apart from painting I just finished co-directing a music video (with producer director David Nicholson) for the band Hella. It is visible online at videos.antville.org. It will also be visible on a music video compilation DVD put out by Suicide Squeeze Records this spring.

Ph: What made you decide to shift to oils for your upcoming show?

BC: I have made more watercolors over the past few years but I have been making oil paintings as well. The show will consist of mostly watercolors and four or five small oil paintings. It's possible that eventually I will just stick with one medium, but for my own satisfaction I enjoy changing it up now and then. I think I was just missing oil paint and glazing. I was curious to see how some new oil paintings would look in contrast to the watercolors.

Ph: How did you hook up with Julie Baker Fine Art?

BC: Julie approached me while I was still in school at California College of the Arts in Oakland. She is based in Nevada City and was checking out the local artists. Although I was living in Oakland, I still had my studio in Nevada City. She came by for a studio visit and decided to put me in a group show.

Ph: When can we New Yorkers get a chance to see your work "in the flesh?"

BC: I'll have work in a group show at the Morgan Lehman Gallery in Chelsea in June. I'll probably be there for the opening too. It's a good excuse for me to visit.

Ph: Which current artists' work do you particularly like?

BC: Peter Doig, Neo Rauch, Kai Althoff, Chris Vasell, Jules de Balincourt, Tim Gardener, Dana Schutz, Sam Salisbury, Matt Gottschalk, Deth P. Sun, and Bailey Winters.

Ph: What inspires you?

BC: Art, architecture, books, dreams, trees, music, scientific discoveries and my friends.

Ph: What is your favorite a) taste b) sound c) sight d) scent e) tactile sensation?

BC: a) Anything you bring to a picnic b) Banjo c) Xanadu d) The Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disney Land e) Lying on hot rocks/Moon skin

Ph: Which work of yours would you like me to share with Phantasmaphile readers?

BC: “Mountain Choir” [see above]

Ph: Which work of yours was the most challenging to create? Which flowed the easiest?

BC: Hard to say really. You have good days and bad days. I find the less I think about the outcome of my creativity and the more enjoyment I can bring into the present moment, the easier things happen. Thoughts about the future are like holes in your bucket.

Interview with Christopher Mir

Christopher Mir "Nest" 2006

The vastly talented Christopher Mir gave his spectacular painting a pause to help quench my curiosity:

Phantasmaphile: I noticed that you double majored in anthropology and painting as an undergrad. As an anthropology major myself (with a minor in art history), I'm curious as to how this background may have informed your work. Can you talk about that a bit?
Christopher Mir: I think that my paintings are part of an anthropological/psychological inquiry into cultural forces, my personal history, and the impulsive qualities inherent in the creative process (including being inspired or moved). There's an implied level of detachment with an anthropological approach that I really respond to. I see it as having a quality of witnessing.

Ph: You have such an unusual style - it reminds me almost of collage in that you seem to play around with varying scale and color palettes within one work. How did you come to develop such a unique technique?
CM: The work really does emerge directly from a kind of collage or accumulative image making. I collect hundreds of photos from random sources - magazines, old books, coffee table books on national parks, calendars, the internet - anywhere really - and I put disparate images together in such a way that creates what I see as a powerful abstraction and a metaphysical drama. Often the entire composition is worked out in Photoshop. I find that I feel freer when I'm painting when there's a very tight parameter – a fully realized design.  It's an age old paradox that has real significance for me.

Ph: Where do your ideas come from?
CM: Beginner's mind.

Ph: I noticed that a few of the titles of your works come from album titles: for example, Built to Spill's "Keep it Like a Secret" and Cat Power's "You Are Free." Does music have a large influence on your painting?
CM: Huge. I write and record music (if you want to hear go to: hangonstchristopher.com), and I am a very influenced musically and in terms of painting by the bands you mentioned. I think linking songs and paintings through titles adds a layer of meaning that can lead the viewer into a state of dynamic disequilibrium.

Ph: I'd love to hear about your process. Can you walk me through the creation of a painting, from idea to completion?
CM: I touched on the first aspect of my process earlier - an obsessive gathering of images. But when it comes to individual paintings I almost always start with the landscape. I want to find a place that acts like a stage set - and when I begin to "see" figures, animals, machines, buildings in these spaces I know that it's worth investigating. At that point I will pour through the piles of images I have to find the right players. These choices can be the result of narrative strategies, but more often are included based on abstract or formal elements that will interact with each other in a compelling way. When it comes to actually making the painting I try to adhere to the principle of Sei Do (living movement) - a law of Japanese painting - that encourages the artist to embody whatever element is at hand. So for example if you are painting a tree - try to manifest the strength, flexibility or grandeur of a tree.

Ph: I am intrigued by the idea of "Sei Do" - I have never heard of this before.  How did you come to learn about this?  It sounds fascinating.
CM: I came across the book On the Laws of Japanese Painting by H.P. Bowie in a used book store years ago. He was a British national who spent years in Japan studying and documenting Japanese art making. His goal in the book was to bring this wisdom to the West, which he surely did. It's a treasure.

Ph: How long does it generally take to complete each piece?
CM: A large painting around 5x8 will take around two or three months depending on the complexity of the forms.  Smaller works are usually two or three weeks.  There's a lot of variation. When I'm using acrylic it's a little faster, because I don't have to contend with drying time, etc.

Ph: You paint such gorgeous landscapes. They are so intricate, yet there is also a flatness to them which reminds me of diorama, or the background to a Museum of Natural History display. Is this intended?
CM: It is absolutely intended. I see the work as something like natural history dioramas of dreams I've never had.

Ph: What inspires you?
CM: My wife Karen Dow - the greatest living painter (honestly), my children: Evan (4) and Ruby (1 1/2), nature, art, music, poetry, friends, mythology, mysticism, religion (especially Buddhism, but also Native American and Jewish/Christian ideologies), powerful images, walking, breathing, being in my body, the vacuum genesis theory, Revelations, Ovid's Metamorphosis, and the Sutra on the Full Awareness of Breathing.

Ph: How did you come to work with the Rare Gallery?
CM: The great mad genius (curator) David Hunt worked me into a group show at Rare called “Labor Day” that served as a kind of introduction to the gallery. Also I believe my guardian angel Simon Watson did some kind of magical incantations.

Ph: What is your favorite a) taste b) sound c) sight d) scent e) tactile sensation?
CM: a) ripe mango b) wind in trees c) sunlight on water d) baby skin e) love

Ph: Which current artists' work do you particularly like?
CM: I love Karen Dow, Neo Rauch, Sigmar Polke is a god among men, Terry Winters, Louise Bourgeois, Laura Owens, Peter Doig, Bill Jensen, and John Moore.

Ph: Which work of yours would you like me to share with Phantasmaphile
readers?
CM: “Nest” [see above]

Ph: Do you have any upcoming news or shows you'd like to mention?
CM: My next solo show at Rare opens in November.

Ph: Are you superstitious?
CM: I knock on wood quite a bit.