NR 17 Global Virtue · Spring Summer 2023 Published · Print Page 232
Team
Photography · Max Höll at Diller Agency Styling · Claudia Cerasuolo at Atomo Management Hair · Fabio Petri using David Mallett Make-Up · Yvane Rocher at WSM using Glossier Talent · Iana G. At Premium Models Photography Assistants · Matheus Agudelo and Maximilian Mair Styling Assistant · Laura Bellini Production · Benedikt Höll Hair Assistant · Paulo Reimberg
Designers
Dress and earrings JIL SANDER
Top and skirt SPORTMAX, earrings JIL SANDER
Jumpsuit with incorporated boots YANN CHIFLET and earrings JUSTINE CLENQUET
Top DROMe and tights SERGIO ROSSI X WOLFORD
Jumpsuit with incorporated boots YANN CHIFLET and earrings JIL SANDER
Top ACNE STUDIOS
Dress FERRAGAMO, boots J.Simone and earrings JIL SANDER
Dress ALEXANDER MCQUEEN, body MAISON MARGIELA, boots J.SIMONE and earrings JUSTINE CLENQUET
Dress MOLLY GODDARD, tights SERGIO ROSSI X WOLFORD, shoes ROGER VIVIER and earrings JUSTINE CLENQUET
NR 17 Global Virtue · Spring Summer 2023 Published · Print Page 016
Feature · Amanda Ba Words · Jade Removille
Post-humanism, Otherness and diasporic memory
Amanda Ba is a Chinese artist based in New York City. Born in Columbus, Ohio, she spent the first five years of her life with her grandparents in Hefei, China before moving to New York and graduating from Columbia University in 2020 with a BA in Visual Arts and Art History.
Ba’s work is influenced by critical race and queer theory. By utilising these frameworks, she aims to explore more nuanced understandings of identity and examine themes such as post-humanism, Otherness and diasporic memory. Through her art, Ba challenges traditional notions of identity and representation, and creates works that are thought-provoking and impactful. The feeling of attachment and nostalgia and a desire to reconnect to China are influential in Ba’s work. Her goal is not to flatten identity, but to challenge the notion of what it looks like and formulate a more complex way of understanding identity, which creates a tension in her work. Her scenes astray from a larger hypothetical world visualised through her personal narrative imbued of a specific colour code intertwining between red and green. Ba’s use of various mediums, including sculpture and installation, allows her to experiment with different forms of expression.
Guarding Narcissus, 2022. Courtesy of PM/AM
You were born in Ohio, United States but raised by your grandparents in Hefei, Anhui Province, China, until the age of 5. After that, you settled back in Columbus, Ohio. What are your earliest memories being in Hefei? Are there any elements from that time that you like to draw back into your practice?
How did you immerse yourself into the arts, especially within figurative painting?
I have this specific memory of my grandmother dropping me off at preschool for the first time —back then, preschool was just a small, two-room building within the apartment complex where my grandparents lived. When she left and closed the door behind her, I thought that it meant I would never see her again, and dread washed over me. I think I cried all day, until she picked me up and explained that she would always come back to get me.
I also have a lot of memories of food, going to the local science museum, and picking small snails off of garden walls along the sidewalk. Mostly when I think back to that time, I remember a feeling of strong, inseverable attachment to my grandparents. That feeling of attachment, of nostalgia, and wanting to reconnect and re-understand China always factors into my work. I feel lucky that I was able to experience growing up in China, so that I always have an entry point back in.
Drawing was an early hobby of mine that developed when I was in China. My grandfather was an industrial drafter during the Cultural Revolution, so he always had lots of nice paper and pens, and would teach me how to render things in the third dimension. I latched onto the human body pretty early — it has always been a central focus of mine.
You graduated in 2020 with a B.A. in Visual Arts and Art History from Columbia University in New York. What has your major taught you?
Art History taught me how to be intentionally referential with my work, and that there’s always room to rework and redefine the canon. Studying the canon made me realise that perhaps I would rather dwell in the under-commons. It also taught me not only to hone in on the artist’s life, but to contextualise the way they were working within certain political and geographical conditions.
How is the landscape of New York influencing your work? What is your interaction like with the City?
New York is challenging, but it’s a playground. It’s a hard city to live in — even daily tasks are ridden with obstacles — but the challenge keeps me energised. The challenge is fun.
In an interview for Columbia Daily Spectator, you’ve quoted a saying that goes ‘the morewords are written about an art piece, the less people see it’. That being said, is there an element within your paintings you would want people to absolutely perceive?
That’s a quote I actually regret saying. Well, maybe not regret, but I did say that in my freshman year, as an 18 year old who didn’t really know what their own work was about. I think because I couldn’t properly verbalise it, I came up with an excuse that left it all up to audience interpretation. Now I write and talk extensively about my work, and I wouldn’t be caught dead saying that. I think that art writing is actually crucial, and good art writing expands on the meaning of the work, rather than telling the audience what to think. Good art writing poses new questions and contextualises the work in a way that makes the audience curious for more, not satisfied with a conclusion.
One thing that I hope people get from my work is that I’m working from a place of tension between representing identity and rendering it unintelligible. I hope that it’s clear that my goal is not to flatten identity by making paintings that are simply about ‘being Asian’ or ‘being an Asian woman,’ but rather challenging the notion of what ‘being Asian’ looks like in the first place. In this sense, one could even say that the paintings are more about ‘being American’ than ‘being Asian.’ Ultimately, I’m trying to formulate a more complicated and uncomfortable way of understanding identity.
In your paintings you depict surreal scenes involving bodies and animals, more specifically women and American bullies characterised by their seemingly equal relationship.
Significant otherness, which was coined by Donna Haraway in her book The Companion Species Manifesto in 2003, is that precise bond between the lives of dogs and people. Dogs are here to live with, not here just to think with. What made you want to explore that thematic?
The series draws from the book Animacies by Mel Chen, and from The Companionship Species Manifesto by Donna Haraway. Animacy in linguistics is the quality of sentience/liveliness/human-ness that a noun has, which then has grammatical and syntactic consequences. Mel Chen tugs the concept of animacy away from linguistics to argue that animacy is just as applicable in queer and race relations, one example being how ‘dehumanising insults hinge on the salient invocation of the nonhuman animal.’ The Chinese title of this painting ‘狗女人放狗屁’ translates literally to ‘dog woman releasing dog fart’, but it is actually a combination of two common insults, the first half meaning ‘bitch’ and the latter half meaning ‘bullshit.’ To tack on ‘dog’ in front of an animate ‘woman’ transforms it into an insult, just as tacking on ‘dog’ in front of an inanimate ‘fart’ also transforms it into an insult. In these cases, a very notion of a dog is dehumanising and degrading, revealing a human-centric metric of worthiness and value. In the painting, the woman and the dog take on the same stance (known in Western yoga practices as ‘downward dog’), but our desire to project a human understanding of gesture prescribes sexuality unto the former and playfulness unto the latter.
Bitch and Bull, 2021. Courtesy of the artist
In The Companionship Species Manifesto, Haraway makes a case for reevaluating our relationship with all our worldly co-habitants, dogs being a significant example of the intimacy and historical co-evolution that humans are capable of. However, the value of dogs’ lives do not and should not depend on their obedience to or intimacy with us, (i.e. if they are loved/accepted by us or if they make us feel loved). Marginalised communities have long been put down by being compared to animals (dogs, monkeys, general pre-homosapien ‘savages’), and thinking of ourselves as truly no better than dogs is the first step in working towards a non-anthropocentric post-human future.
You employ a specific use of colours in your artworks with a very appealing dramatic red and an unnatural neon green. Could you delve into your colour code and the connections it holds with your background?
Would there be another colour you would want to introduce more frequently? What would be the symbolism?
That series started because I wanted to practice using the colours red, and the colour green is the complementary colour on the colour wheel. But, because red and green often look festive and Christmas-y, I wanted to use the neon green to avoid that effect and create a more psychological atmosphere — if you put two complementary colours that have the same value right up against each other, the eye will create this vibrational effect that I find very effective.
Right now I’m trying to work in more drab colours — restraining your use of colour can be just as hard as amplifying it. I’d love to make a series of black paintings one day, like Goya.
The nude women you paint present such strength about them. There’s a mix of grotesque but also realistic elements. What is your idea of beauty?
My idea of beauty is self-assuredness, and that finding the thing that works for you is sexy.
American Western, 2022. Courtesy of Gagosian
Would you say your artworks are self-portraits?
Yes and no. Painters always say that any painting of a person that is not of a specific other likeness (as in, a figure you make up vs. an image of a celebrity) is in some ways a self-portrait. Even a portrait of someone else can be a self-portrait in the sense that it portrays the artist’s relation to the sitter. But I don’t think of my paintings as self-portraits unless specified otherwise — I use my own face and body for reference, but I distort them to my liking. Maybe these characters are more like my kin.
What’s the process behind an artwork like usually? Do you sketch it before hand or do you just directly, sort of intuitively, paint? How is your research process like? How long does one painting take you and do you ever work on different paintings simultaneously? Do you prefer focus on one canvas?
At this point in my career, I’m mostly working towards shows, so first I think about what the overall theme of the upcoming show is, and how I want all the paintings to interact with one another and comment upon the theme. Then I read, watch films, go to galleries/museums and browse through images until I know what the content of the painting should be. Then I make several sketches until I’m satisfied with the composition and then I take my reference images. Once I’ve collected everything I need, that’s when I begin the painting. I usually focus on one image at once, but sometimes I start the under-paintings of two or three and leave the paintings that are harder to figure out to marinate at this stage, before going back to them months later.
The figures you paint almost seem like sculptures in their shapes and their volumes. Would that be a medium you would want to explore too? There is also a certain cinematography that envelops your paintings, almost stills from scenes. Would you explore film making too?
Yes, I have every intention of exploring sculpture/installation and film. I think it would be refreshing and surprising to gain literacy in a new medium — painting is so familiar and legible to me. That’s actually happening very soon, so stay tuned…
I watched an interview of yours published 4 years ago, in which you showed your paintings and shared how the atmosphere of those was similar to your dreams. I noticed a shift in composition and technique in comparison to now. Of course artists evolve constantly but I was curious to know if there was anything specific that had happened that instigated this new direction, almost allegorical?
I think what you’re picking up on is that my research process changed a lot, and that’s really affected the kinds of images I come up with. Perhaps before they relied more on personal experience, and now I’m trying to move things beyond just how I feel. The theory that I read helps me to connect what I’m feeling to larger events, and opens up avenues for research. For example, I’m currently working on a show that is Ohio-themed. Maybe 4 years ago, I would have just thought about experiences I had while in Ohio, but now, I’m thinking of my time growing up there as a gateway into Middle American life: white culture, the ideological and political consequences of a swing state and late-capitalist revival of post-industrial cities.
Dinnertime, 2020. Courtesy of the artist
You used to sell one-of-a-kind handmade and hand painted items and clothing before, and had gained quite a following on your Depop account. We have seen artists before collaborating with brands, for instance, American photographer and artist Andres Serrano with Supreme in 2017, Ghanaian painter Amoako Boafo with Kim Jones for Dior Spring Summer 2021 and Spanish artist Santiago Sierra for Balenciaga Spring Summer 2023. Would you ever envisage collaborating with a fashion brand? If so, which one and why?
I’d totally do that, but I wouldn’t want it to be like something I painted printed on a t-shirt. I’d love to go technical and make a bag or shoe collab, something structural and sculptural that takes a little more thought and work to design. I also thought the Prada x Elmgreen and Dragset collab was cool — that set of a Prada store out in the middle of nowhere, along a highway. That one defied the typical art x fashion collab (less like wearable art and more like an outdoor installation about fashion). I think the context of the collab really matters too, so it’s hard to pick a fashion brand without knowing the intended audience or the campaign. But maybe Margiela — Galliano’s own eponymous brand was already fusing art and fashion from the very beginning. Other than that, maybe something more democratic, like Uniqlo. I love Uniqlo.
Your first solo exhibition Homecoming was actually in Hefei, China at the Lai Shaoqi ArtMuseum. What was that homecoming like for you?
Homecoming was an exhibition, but it was also something of a performance. It became a literal homecoming — I was swarmed with local press, who were interested not so much in my artwork but in my backstory, which could easily be framed into something along the lines of ‘Chinese girl born in the USA loves her family and her homeland so dearly that she has returned to her homeland order to introduce her Western-educated art to her hometown!’ As I was making the works and news of the show began to spread, I could feel the increasing pressure and expectation of this sentiment. In the end, it was the desire to grasp what is likely the only opportunity for my grandparents to see an exhibition of mine that overrode the many forms of quiet tension I felt while producing this body of work.
You had your second solo show, The Incorrigible Giantess, last year at the PM/AM Gallery in London. Do you have any plans of showcasing your work this year, and if so, where?
I have a show in Columbus, Ohio coming up in September that I’m prepping for. Maybe that will be another homecoming of sorts.
Credits
Artworks · Courtesy of the artist, Gagosian, Gladstone and PM/AM
NR 17 Global Virtue · Spring Summer 2023 Published · Print Page 020
Feature · Tom Hancocks Words · Lorenzo Ottone
The illusionist shaping the space of tomorrow
What does designing space mean when the human perception of its living environments is experiencing an unprecedented moment of transition? The profound change we are witnessing, unlike in the past, is no longer simply aesthetic, but gnoseological and psychological too.
As the walls between factual and simulated reality are collapsing, such a reflection no longer seems to gravitate around stylistic issues but calls for a rethinking of the role of the interior designer themselves, as well as of their platforms of expression.
Since speculation about the Metaverse and its impact in shaping our future lives began, many brands — some more hysterically than others — chased the trend, coming up with their own virtual spaces. Their needs were met by a generation of creatives that, by making the most of AI and design softwares, unleashed their imagination. Social media became their springboard and many brands, from fashion to music, their patrons.
Just like the radical designers of the Seventies kept most of their utopian projects on paper but still reclaimed their revolutionary stance, this new frontier of design could perhaps represent a futuristic shift for the whole industry albeit proudly reclaiming its digital-only existence. Are now the self-trained rookies of the internet taking over the professionals thanks to the freedom and viral visibility offered by social media? How far can we go with dismissing self-designed digital footwear or chair concepts as fakes when they could, in return, inspire a change in the industry? Perhaps it’s time to surrender to the illusion.
To dive deeper into the exciting opportunities and the controversies of this still fully unexplored realm, we spoke with Tom Hancocks, the Australian designer whose uber-realistic furniture and interiors may equally just be some of the most eye-pleasing you’ll see online — and some of the most adventurous, design-wise.
This issue revolves around the theme of Virtuosity, which is something that may resonate with you more than many other artists since you’re self-taught. This may sound as something equally liberating and scary. Did the absence of any academic learning process freed your virtuosity and somehow unlocked new creative trajectories?
I believe so. I also feel that ‘self-taught’ is a term I’ve regretted using as I’ve grown older. The absence of an academic influence is certainly something that has dictated my trajectory. I think it helped by allowing me to have more agency over what influences and communities I could organically gravitate towards, but on the other hand, you also miss some of those unanticipated experiences and exposures that can be stimulating to react to. So, whether one is better than the other, or if that had an impact on virtuosity in particular is hard to say.
How did you come to the decision of avoiding formal teaching in the field of design?
I would say mainly because of the accessibility of the internet. Because of how drawn I was to that growing up, formal teaching in any capacity never seemed like a necessity, especially in something as fluid as art or design. Sure, the resources of an institution would have been great, but it’s a luxury that is intentionally withheld from a lot of people, so I went in a different direction.
Although created digitally, your projects do retain an extraordinarily strong and fascinating dimension. This leads us to ask you what, in your opinion, virtuosity means today?
I would instinctively say that virtuosity is the ability to communicate something, very effectively, through creative expression. So, I would argue that the intent only matters if the art is meant for others, or to convey something to the world. But it’s something that’s entirely up to the viewer to decide in somewhat of a self-determining way.
What that means today in particular, though, is hard to say, as there’s more stimulation and communication than ever. So, maybe, ‘virtuous’ is what is most pure and able to cut through all that noise.
The great Gio Ponti was among the first to argue that design, art and architecture were made to interact among themselves. Having worked with fashion brands, design firms and even music artists, do you make interdisciplinarity a core of your practice and a necessity for the contemporary industry?
Absolutely. I think art and design is nothing if not just a form of communication. And as most would tell you, expanding your perspectives and experiences will almost always lead to more reward, if that’s something you’re able to do. That’s also a big part of digital art, though. You have this very malleable tool to reimagine just about anything. So that helps a whole lot as well, of course.
How do multiple and diverse stimuli inform your work?
My process is fairly inconsistent because I usually try to wait for the right ideas to come to me. But this same approach can lead to running into creative walls too, and feeling like everything isn’t a purely original concept, which means it’s somehow dishonest.
“I try not to get too fixated on one style, but rather navigating around and carrying my taste and values into different genres.”
So, although I think that everything is some kind of subconscious reimagination, I would like to get better at doing more direct sampling and using that to further explore ideas that feel more unique. I actually think about this a lot in parallel to music sampling, and how beautiful it is when done in the right way.
Your Instagram bio reads ‘digital sketchbook’, which suggests that the content displayed isn’t necessarily devoted to pragmatic scopes. Does working in the digital field grant you a creative and experimental freedom that you wouldn’t otherwise experience?
Definitely. Art and the creative flowing of ideas can sometimes be hindered by pragmatics. It’s nicer to look back at things I’ve posted and see a progression of ideas or themes, rather than a perfectly refined portfolio.
The sketchbook idea is because, in the arena of social media and its fleetingness, I’d much rather just gesture to an idea. That’s the extent of the communication I want to make there. If something will only be seen for 5-10 seconds, then I don’t need to get too much across, just a sketch.
How speculative can design be in an increasingly digital society?
Extremely. A big part of digital art is just visualisation of ideas and concepts. If people are able to see something visually, it will inevitably create a stronger reaction. Which then hopefully provokes a more engaged response.
Up to just a few years ago the idea of designing furniture and objects exclusively for digital fruition would have sounded heretical. Do you feel like you’re contributing to rewriting the perception and rules of your industry, perhaps helping other designers to better understand, even in real life, the bond between objects and the space they occupy?
If I do, it’s really not something that I’ve thought about much. But not because I think I’m above it. More because I don’t think I’ve fully integrated into an existing community or an industry, since I usually don’t resonate with what’s at the centre of them. So, I feel more like I’m navigating around the outskirts just following my nose. But if that in itself can inspire others to do the same, then I would be very excited to see what that leads to.
Thinking about the school of Radical Design, some of the most brave and adventurous projects conceived in design and architecture were born as utopian and never truly brought to life. Others — like much of the Gufram catalogue, for example — were put into production thanks to brands that believed in the intuition of young, revolutionary creatives that refused the traditional norms of the industry.
Do you believe that the prominence of digital platforms and experimental and out-of-the-ordinary designs can give firms the push to be braver and, as a consequence, foster a new exciting season in design — from furniture to fashion?
In all honesty, I’m not sure. I do agree that digital, creative-based platforms allow for more of those things to be seen. But as capitalism grows exponentially and everything becomes more commodified and monopolised — including digital spaces and assets — those forces will always work against the progress of creativity and culture. So I agree with the former, but I don’t see firms becoming braver any time soon, nor young creative people having more time or resources. Same goes with digital spaces becoming more democratised. I think the opposite is happening, unfortunately.
In the past, design goods also represented an elitist status symbol and they were often connected to physical possession. Is the rise in popularity of NFTs as well as digital designers — from sneaker and football shirt concepts to furniture or uber-realistic AI-generated content — somehow replacing physical desirability with a virtual and more democratic one?
Most definitely. From virtuosity to virtues. So much postmodern theory has already touched on this, so it’s probably better to reference that rather than hear my bastardisation of it. But I will say there seems to always be an inevitable contradiction between the designer and the consumer, until one or the other won’t exist any more.
One puts them-self into the world, and the other takes the world for them-self. Which is not to justify some artistic prejudice. I don’t think those roles are inherent, and anyone can create something beautiful, but until we abolish those roles and change the relationship we have with art and design, these exploitations will always occur.
NR 17 Global Virtue · Spring Summer 2023 Published · Print Page 140
Feature · Richard Kern Words · Federico Sargentone
I try to sit on a fence where one foot is in one world and one foot is in the other world
Richard Kern, the iconic photographer and counterculture figure, has been capturing the gritty, unapologetic essence of downtown New York City for over four decades. His work explores themes of sexuality, fetishism, and power dynamics, pushing boundaries and challenging societal norms. Kern’s photographs are a raw and honest reflection of his subjects, capturing their vulnerability and strength in equal measure.
Born in North Carolina in 1954, Kern moved to New York City in the late 1970s, quickly becoming a fixture of the city’s underground scene. He began his career as a filmmaker, producing a series of experimental films that explored taboo themes and challenged traditional cinematic conventions. However, it was his photography that would ultimately earn him widespread recognition and acclaim.
Kern’s work is characterized by its rawness and intimacy, with his photographs often featuring his subjects in unguarded moments. He has a unique ability to capture the complexity and contradictions of his subjects, revealing their innermost desires and fears. His photographs are not for the faint of heart, often depicting explicit sexual acts and fetishistic scenes.
Despite the controversial nature of his work, Kern has maintained a loyal following of fans and admirers throughout his career. He has exhibited his work in galleries and museums around the world, and his photographs have been featured in numerous publications, including Vice, Purple, Interview, and i-D, just to name a few.
In this interview with writer Federico Sargentone, Kern discusses his approach to photography, the themes that inspire him, and the challenges he has faced as a counterculture icon. He offers insight into his creative process, sharing anecdotes and stories from his long and storied career. Through his words and images, Kern invites us to explore the darker, more complex corners of the human experience, challenging us to confront our own desires and fears.
I was reading the essay Matthew Higgs wrote in your catalogue. I’d like to start there, with the definition he gives of your practice as a portraitist. What do you think of the status of poetic portraitist that you have acquired in the art world? Does that fit you? Or is it something that maybe people have said about you that you don’t like?
I like that definition. I’m glad that Matthew made that definition, even though I wouldn’t have necessarily come up with that myself. Still, it’s very convenient for me to use in my bio. You know, if you’re an artist and a critic kind of clarifies what you do for you, it may sometimes come off as unsettling. But I’ve known Matthew for a long time, and his definition was a nice, precise way to look at myself, which I had never done before if that makes sense.
Do you usually try not to analyse your work by yourself?
Oh, you can’t help but analyse it, can you? I studied art and philosophy. And one of the things they taught in art theory (or whatever you wanna call it), this is back in the ‘70s, was that you had to be able to construct a system of meaning around your work. It had to relate to you and have some kind of justification. So I’m constantly trying to justify everything, myself, but not necessarily in public. And I gotta say a lot of those naked women photographs are very hard to justify.
I’m sure! Even though that is still within the canonical form of portraiture, there is a rich history there that you could go over.
I didn’t realise it at the time but (that type of portrait) is quite confrontational, my old work was all confrontational: the films and things like that were extremely in-your-face — the emphasis was on trying to provoke people. The naked women stuff or naked men or whatever is also a cheap way to create big controversy. The trick for me is to instil in the picture some kind of meaning that the viewer would have to get past the controversy to see. But this method is not applicable to every single photograph, of course. You know, there are a lot of photographs of just people standing around looking pretty or whatever.
Yeah, absolutely. We could also say that the controversial element if you will, is part of your formal delivery of the work, right? It’s as if it’s a technique for a painter. It very much does a similar trick for your images, no?
I try to sit on a fence where one foot is in one world and one foot is in the other world. But, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve mellowed quite a bit and don’t feel as confrontational as I used to, in my work. I am so far removed from it, I can’t even tell, you know? Maybe it is controversial. I have no idea anymore.
Did you face a lot of backlash throughout your career?
Oh yes.
And how did you cope with it? I am very curious about it. Was that something you went for, in a way? Or you weren’t expecting it?
For me, the logical thing was to be provocative. But then I’d go, ‘What do you mean, I didn’t do anything!’ It’s kind of like that, this weird attitude of provoking people, and then not understanding why they are upset. That has happened to me so many times! I thought what I was doing was completely fine, but then it really bothered people. Then again, I don’t claim to be super intellectual, super smart or anything.
It’s not a matter of claiming it. But if you look at how, perhaps, a new generation of photographers-slash-artists are incorporating that same aspect of controversy in their work, they are super indebted to your ethos. I don’t know if you’re familiar with Haji Shin, she’s based in New York and I think she incorporated in her work your legacy of controversial image-making. I think that the controversial element has been quite adopted as a language nowadays.
That’s probably true, yeah.
I’m not familiar with a lot of people’s work nowadays, but I do notice that it’s definitely more women photographers doing that kind of stuff than it is men. Most of the photographers I know now are young women.
Yeah, 100%. Critics have described your work as voyeuristic.
Yeah. I totally agree with that one. Every photographer is a voyeur, in a way, I think.
What’s your relationship with that claim?
Oh, I’m totally aware of that and down with it. I mean, my best days on the street are not so much in the winter, but in the summer. I have this little tiny camera I carry around, I get a lot of great shots and just beautiful people on the streets. And a friend of mine described this as, quoting a poet he knew, a two-minute romance, where you pass someone on the street, and you’re in love with him/her for two minutes.
You don’t catch their eyes but see them as you go. Then you continue with your day, you know, keep walking. I’m taking photos of a lot of these 2-minute romantic people. Most of the time I don’t even know what I photograph, because I’m not looking through the lens. I’m just holding the camera down in my hand by my side. I get home and I go ‘Oh, I can’t wait to see what I photographed.’
Shot with DXO ONE Camera
I look at the photos, and sometimes I realise I’ve got really great stuff. But I can’t even remember seeing them, you know?
But anyway, that’s a strictly voyeuristic thing. And I also shoot photos out my windows all the time. I’ve got an apartment in Miami Beach for the last two or three years, and I’ve been shooting people on the street out my window, walking onto the beach and stuff. That’s just an ongoing thing; sometimes they see me photographing them but usually, they don’t.
“I’m a voyeur, and always have been.”
Do people get offended sometimes?
I can stand in front of someone, look at them, and when I put a camera in front of my eye, they begin to look magical. But that’s regarding a regular shoot. I shot someone yesterday, it was a fashion job, and I’m looking at the photo through the camera going, ‘Wow, she looks really good’.
How’d you come across the fashion-image maker career?
I don’t know; honestly, I’ve been doing it lately to pay the bills.
It is something you might enjoy, no? As a professional practice.
It all depends on who I’m shooting and the situation…sometimes it’s fun and sometimes it isn’t.
There have been years where I do it and periods where I don’t, but lately, I’ve been doing a lot of it.
And at the beginning, were you treating it as an art project?
No, it’s more of an occupation thing, but I tried to get a few of my shots in there. There’s one series I’ve been working on forever with girls with their cell phones. And it goes back to before everyone had an iPhone. And during this job yesterday, I shot a couple of shots like that for myself while we were doing the fashion shoot – I always stick some of this stuff in the shot list.
I’m so fascinated by this kind of marriage between the art image and, let’s say, commercial images. Your work perfectly summarises that in a way. You could look at one of your artworks and one of your magazine shoots and maybe no differences would catch your eye, in terms of the involvement of the same compositional methods, sometimes the same subjects.
It’s more doable with today’s fashion and clothes. It is much more relatable and similar to (those of) my art images. I mean, now, when people work with me, they let me keep it much simpler regarding styling. A long time ago, I would be doing these jobs, and they would have these ridiculous clothes, and those photos are pretty useless to me now, but if I can keep it looking really natural with something someone would actually be wearing, then it works for me. The marriage you mentioned might take place. In some jobs they just let me do whatever I want, which is great!
I can do every single kind of shot I’d like to do. And yeah, that’s fun.
And do you have a studio practice?
No, I have a pretty large apartment here in New York, and that used to be a studio. But then I had a kid, got married and a bunch of other things took place in my life. So now it’s more of a living space. But I do break it down into a studio every once in a while. I’m doing that next week. I just move everything around and create a studio in it. So yeah, sometimes I work from home and use it as a location.
And speaking of New York, what do you think about how things changed? Back then there was this kind of huge community around music and art as well. What’s your take on the present?
As far as I know, from talking to my son and some other young models, there’s still a gigantic community of all these different underground scenes that I don’t know of because I don’t go out at night much anymore. But all that stuff still exists. It may have been a bit more grimy or dirty when I was young. New York has gotten much more cleaned up now.
I know it seems a dumb question but how did you find your voice within that community? When did you realise that you were an artist?
I still haven’t realised that. I would call myself a photographer. That way I can avoid anyone saying I’m a bad artist [laughs].
But who cares, right? I was wondering though, during that time, you collaborated a lot with musicians and other artists. Is it something that you’ve lost interest in now? Is it not as exciting anymore?
Well, I still do a lot of that stuff, but I’m not going to do it as much. Certainly, I won’t do it for free! Back then I would just do anything even if there was no money involved. But I don’t really have the time to do that anymore. But there’ve been people who’ve been my assistants or models who want to try something who I collaborate with for fun. An example is this Italian woman, Maria de Stefano, who worked for me for free for a long time and has this big project going on in Italy about migrant teenagers and their stories. She worked with me and then she went off and did her own thing.
A model I worked with when she was young went off to become a hugely successful painter. I helped her turn an idea she had into a short film and shot it for her. This kind of thing has happened a few times and it’s always good for me to see.
What do you think changed in the world of photography throughout the years and how has your practice evolved?
Well, the most obvious changes are digital photography and the iPhone! That pretty much made anybody a photographer now, which is fine with me.
Anyone?
Yeah. What I’d say is that I started when the film was the technology and there weren’t a million photographers. That’s the main difference I’m seeing. And I consider myself lucky to have started when I did and still be doing it. There is one thing I remember from art school. It wasn’t necessarily told to me, but I realised that whatever you start doing, you have to never stop. You have to do it all the time. There are the Sunday afternoon photographers or the Sunday painters who do it in their spare time as a hobby…but whatever you’re doing, you just have to keep doing it. I’ve seen a lot of people fall by the wayside over the years but I don’t know why I keep doing it. I just keep doing what I’ve always done I guess because it’s fun for me.
Since we’re talking about continuity, what’s the next project you’re working on?
I have three or four books coming out pretty soon. One is a book of Polaroids I took as test shots. That’s called ‘Polaroids’. Another one contains black and white photos from 1980 to 2005 that have never been published. It’s called ‘Gray’. ‘Cops’ is a fanzine companion to a zine I did two years ago called ‘Cars’. It’s photos of cops in NYC in the 1970s and 80s. And there’s another one called ‘Incorrect’, a collection of photographs of people holding grey cards. Before the current cameras, you had to hold up a grey card at the beginning of every shot, so that you could make sure you got the colour right. People aren’t posing, they’re just standing there or whatever, and none of the photos have been retouched or corrected, so it’s a book of messed-up photographs.
That’s amazing! Books are of course a core part of your practice. You’ve done tons of books, and many of them have legendary status. What is your approach when you start a new book? Like, how do you work on that? Do you have a specific process for editing down images, what defines for you the bookmaking practice?
Well, it takes forever. In the past, when I was doing books like ‘New York Girls’, I’d do those with Taschen. And they were specifically interested in photographs of naked girls. That’s what they wanted and for a long period, that’s all I was doing.
But those big publishers don’t do that kind of book anymore. It’s completely unprofitable for them now because of the internet. So the books I’ve done the last few years have all been with a small press because they let me just pick a topic, make me a book, and then publish it. An example of that, and probably the best example is the book ‘Medicated’.
I shot girls who were on medication for about five years. At the same time, I interviewed them about the medications they were on. Those interviews are the text that accompanies the photos in the book. Books where I get to do a specific topic, are the best thing for me. I backed off on shooting nude because it’s a lot easier to get stuff published.
I have Cars which I love, by the way.
Oh, you like that book? Yeah, that’s a nice one. The cop book is the companion of that one. Same format and everything, same time period.
But I was gonna say also when I’m shooting people with their clothes on, they still look just as sexy as without their clothes. More provocative, I guess provocative is the word I’m looking for.
One thing that gets me thinking [regarding nudes and representation] is Instagram. Everything is a minefield there. Everything has to be carefully thought out because you get attacked by this group or that group or whatever. And that’s why I like to do books because no one can attack you directly. [laughs]
I haven’t thought about it before, but I’m just realising now that your images have, in a way, transitioned in use-value. Back then, porn movies and online porn weren’t aligned, and there was less circulation. So your images were treated as pornography by publishers, you mentioned Taschen and their interest, and users as well.
I shot real pornography at one time, so I can totally understand that.
But today, maybe, since there’s so much porn online, and things have gotten much more hardcore, those images have transitioned as acceptable in a way, sexy, to quote you, or provocative, but not pornographic. Does that make sense?
Well, also, when an image gets about 20 years old, it no longer is seen as pornographic. Really, I mean, unless it’s hardcore, then it’s going to always be pornographic. But at about the 20-year mark, they just become nostalgic, people look at it in a completely different way. When I first showed ‘New York Girls’ photographs, it upset a lot of people. Art critics mainly but they’re easily unsettable. But now, the same kind of people look at those photographs with affection because they had seen them in their youth. Another good example of that is the movie ‘Fingered’, which caused so much controversy when I made it in ’86. Wherever it was shown there was always a problem! Now it’s in the MoMa collection! That kind of stuff happens all the time.
“Think about ‘Un Chien Andalou’, people ran out of the theatre screaming when it was first screened and now it’s an art classic.”
Every invention had this kind of shock value at its inception. Science, religion, art: everything that breaks up a determined pattern meets some resistance. But I also understand you perfectly when you’re talking about the nostalgia effect. What do you think about the duration of an image? You basically said it, but I wanted to see if you had more. Can images transform throughout their own life and maybe tell different stories?
A good example is something I put on Instagram recently, two girls from Smith College laying on a bed – a couple. They look pretty punk. It was from 2004. A young journalist had written to me asking if I knew this image was all over the place in the gay and lesbian culture. I wasn’t aware of that. He said that image was everywhere and he was writing his thesis on it. I put it on Instagram, and then another friend of mine who’s 25 told me it was everywhere on Tumblr, and that it had been there forever. So that way, I found out that it was an iconic image.
What’s your relationship with galleries and shows, at the moment?
I just had a show in Switzerland. And that was the first one I’ve had in a long time. They wanted to show very old photographs, [laughs] which is fine. The photos were from 35 years ago so any kind of controversy attached to them has been removed. But I think because of wokeness, many galleries I used to work with are really paranoid about working with somebody like me now, but maybe not. I don’t really know.
I can see what you mean. I think there are some huge structural problems with cancel culture and the art world right now, most people are maybe scared to show works that are controversial, like maybe yours.
Even if the work shown per se isn’t controversial, it doesn’t matter, they look at your whole past now. That’s where the controversy comes in. But it seems to have turned around quite a bit. It’s almost as if wokeness became kind of uncool. And there’s a reaction to it.
“Every scene eventually provokes an opposite reaction!”
Credits
Cristina with Guns, 1990 One of the first series I did was women with guns. I had a slightly paranoid friend who supplied all the guns for the shoots. Shot in my living room in NYC.
Toni Garn for Numero Berlin, 2016 This shoot was a cover shoot for the first issue of Numero Berlin.
Lung Leg’s shirt, 1987 (note I had the wrong date on the file I sent). Lung Leg was the focus of many of the films I made in the 1980’s including You Killed Me First 1985 and Fingered 1986. Lung is an excellent painter. Back then she was obsessed with Demons and this shirt shows one of them. She made several Demon short films in the 90’s. Now she paints animals and does commissions for private collectors.
Hunters, 2006 Shot in upstate NY with my ex-wife (in the orange) and a model from Chicago. A friend in upstate NY offered to let me shoot on backcountry farmland he owned where he secretly grew marijauna. He supplied the guns.
Julia in her bedroom, 2017 Julia Fox in the NYC apartment she was living in back in 2017.
Kemp from GQ Italia, 2008 Model Charlotte Kemp Muhl shot in her NYC apartment. For 2-3 years I was shooting women for GQ Italia.
Test polaroid, 2003. This was a test shot for an early shoot I did for Double magazine and as often was the case, the polaroid was better than the shots I took.
Naproxen, Serteraline, etc, 2016. One project I focused on for many years concerned young people taking doctor’s prescribed drugs. The result was the short film Medicated (2013)(which can be seen on my website) and the book Medicated published in 2021.
Hand in mouth, 2000 I was shooting this girl for a “leg” magazine in Los Angeles when she said “I can put my whole hand in my mouth” so of course i said “let’s shoot that”.
Smith College Couple, 2004. A friend attending Smith College suggested that I come shoot and interview some of the students there as it was known as a lesbian friendly environment. She offered to cast. I pitched the story to ID Magazine.
NR 17 Global Virtue · Spring Summer 2023 Published · Print Page 044
Allegoria
Team
Photography · Andrea Lamedica Co-Creative Direction and Styling · Allegra Coccolo and Sonia Alipio Casting · Sofia Michaud Hair · Davide Perfetti Makeup · Filippo Ferrari Model · Jiyeon Park at The Lab Models Photography Assistant · Francesco Imbriani Styling Assistants · Seo Young Kim, Anna Di Bernardo, Francesca Filosa and Enrico Calvo Production · Clara Giberti, Coming Studio
NR 17 Global Virtue · Spring Summer 2023 Published · Print Page 338
It’s more than the beating of a single heart
Team
Photography · Celine Paradis Art Direction · Celine Paradis and Indra Zabala Styling · Gina Berenguer Casting · Alexis Ocón at Gaze Hair · Manuela Pane at Kasteel Artist Management Makeup · Mariona Botella at Kasteel Artist Management Set Design · Indra Zabala Models · Irene Sesé, Sasha and Delfina at Uno Models and Claire at Francina Models Light · Pascal Schrattenecker Retouching · Alba Nieto Location · Committee Studio Barcelona
Designers
Body NICOLAS GUICHARD, bra ISA BOULDER, chain PACO RABANNE, ring AGUSTINA ROS and shoes MUXART
Full look BOTTEGA VENETA and body AUREMBIAIX
Full look JIL SANDER
Coat and skirt BOTTEGA VENETA, crochet top IINES FOLCH and shoes MARYAM NASSIR ZADEH
Dress and Bag VICTOR CLAVELLY, tights NICHOLAS GUICHARD and shoes BOTTEGA VENETA
NR 17 Global Virtue · Spring Summer 2023 Published · Print Page 128
Vicious Virtues
Team
Photography · Antonino Cafiero Art Direction · Will Merante Styling · Francesco Saverio Costanzo Hair · Alessia Bonotto at Blend Management Makeup · Alessia Stefano at Blend Management Set Design · Leyla Heart Model · Olesiya Bazanova at IMG Models Photography Assistants · Giorgia D
Designers
Vest JIL SANDER
Blazer and Trousers ALESSANDRO GILLES and shoes Stylist’s own
Top SHEENA and skirt LIDO
Top NANUSHKA
Dress LA COLLECTION and shoes MARNI
Blazer ALESSIA SANTI, vest THE FRANKIE SHOP, shirt BROOKS BROTHERS, tulle top ACT N.1, top JUKKA, underwear TOTEM, tulle culotte ATELIER BOMBA, shorts FERRAGAMO and shoes Stylist’s own
NR 17 Global Virtue · Spring Summer 2023 Published · Print Page 196
Rust Green
Team
Photography · Pietro Groff Styling · Antonio Chiocca Casting · Chisom Abuba at White Casting Hair · Masayuki Yuasa using Less is More Make-up · Janette Peters Set Design · Nina Oswald Models · Margot Heyer and Masa at Neu Casting, Sophia Zoë and Dan at Eli Xavier Casting, Albena at Indeed Model Management, Ine Michelmann at Modelwerk, Jonathan Scotti at Nest Model Management, Nils Daps at Tigers MGMT and Semi Al-Zubi at Core Management Photography Assistant · Nina Groff Styling Assistant · Tania Aquaro Hair Assistant · Lee Hyangsoon Make-up Assistant · Anna-Lisa Pritsch Set Design Assistants · Ruby Oswald, Juliette Catelle Production · Carina Parke
