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Shaquille-Aaron Keith

«I like emotions, they should always be the centre point of anyone’s art form»

Shaquille Keith credits his mum for being the drive behind his creative output; as a child, she would always make sure a young Shaquille had the tools – pens, pencils, paper – to draw with. But it wasn’t just art that she encouraged Shaquille to pursue; ‘she made me play the trumpet for eight years. These are things that I’m so grateful for, even if I wasn’t at the time.’ Those formative experiences have helped Shaquille get to where he has today, as a painter and a poet; he attributes the rhythm that helps structure his poetry to learning the trumpet. Many people familiar with Shaquille will know him as one fourth of PAQ, the YouTube streetwear show that he started with friends Danny Thomas, Dexter Black and Elias Riadi in 2017 when they were all on the cusp of their twenties. The show, which carved out a space online to passionately discuss men’s fashion, without the pretence and sincerity that often comes with the territory of high-end and streetwear gear, is an unequivocal success. To date, the show, which airs every Thursday, has over 84 million views and not far off 800,000 subscribers. Shaquille, himself, has nearly 275,000 Instagram followers, and shots of him wearing an array of covetable attire – including campaign shoots for some of fashion’s biggest names – are interspersed with his paintings, his poetry and other musings about his creative process. The success of PAQ can be attributed to how personable its hosts are, and the same applies to the kind of inclusive community that congregates on the comment section of Shaquille’s Instagram posts. At this point, Shaquille has reached a level of success that many can only dream of, but it’s clear that this is only the start of where he hopes to eventually get – with dreams to take his painting and poetry to new heights.  ‘Oh the artist, Shaquille Keith, did you see him in that music video with – I don’t know – Drake?’ he muses in our conversation; ‘Did you see the artist Shaquille Keith acted in that new James Bond movie?’ There’s little doubt, however, that, when that day comes, Shaquille won’t share it with his PAQ peers, his online fanbase and, most importantly, his mum. 

To start with, when you’re creating your artwork or poetry, what inspires the direction that you take? 

I would say it’s all about how I’m feeling at the time. In my experience, I find that, if I’m talking, it never stays in the person’s head. I always feel like, when you go to a concert and see the way fans know all the lyrics, they’ll say, ‘I love this song so much because it resonates with me especially when,…’A four minute song resonates better than a 30 minute conversation, so that’s why I like to write poetry. And when it comes to painting, it’s about the idea of identity and how I feel. When you’re trying to explain how you feel to someone, they don’t always get it. But, sometimes, when you do a picture that’s more than just a pretty picture – something with meaning – and you give it a title that reflects how you feel, and the image depicts how you feel, I think that can communicate it a lot better. Whenever I create an image, or put pen to paper, I would like to think it’s always for the purpose of communicating something important. And it’s also for reassurance that, whatever I’m going through, I’m not the only one. Sometimes it can be daunting when you’re going through something and you don’t have anyone to really talk to about it. I’m grateful to be able to put my work out there and have enough people see it and say, ‘actually, I’m going through this too.’

I think it’s quite interesting the way you share your poetry online; posting photos of handwritten poems is quite a personal thing to do. What do you hope people reading your poetry in this way will gain from that experience? 

I can’t lie, my handwriting is absolutely shit, but I don’t mind it because I feel like, that’s what my aesthetic is. Sometimes it looks good, sometimes it looks bad, but I really like to think people would read it if they can make out the words. I like to think people do read it straight from the book because if you do that, it’s more raw – which is why I want to make my own poetry book, with the pages of what I’ve written with a type out on the back so you can read it. I would rather people read from the actual book itself, rather than just reading the caption if I’m posting on social media.

You’ve got quite a big social media platform for people to engage with your work. But, as an artist, what role does sharing your work have for you?  

I don’t rely on my social media to define my work as such, but I guess the role it’s played is that I’m able to get immediate feedback from people. Until you share a poem or a painting, they’re pretty much done for yourself. If I’m writing something, I’m pretty much talking to myself, and then when I share it, I’m putting it out there for people to engage with so I can understand what they take away from it. So I think the one good thing about social media is that it allows me to see what people think about my work, who it’s for and whether it’s for everybody. When I get comments from people saying, ‘you know what, I’m not into poetry, but I like your shit’ – that makes me feel good, that’s kind of inspiring. 

Do you think you would have been able to get to the place you have with your art without other platforms that you have, like the YouTube channel PAQ? 

The thing about PAQ, and not a lot of people know this but, with the very first episode of PAQ – before we even knew what it was going to be – was my idea. So obviously, all four of us got together with the idea of making a show and everyone came up with good ideas for the first episode but in the end we ran with the one I offered and I think, that alone, is testament to what I wanted to do creatively anyway. I feel like, if I didn’t have PAQ, in another reality it would have been something else – or, my art itself would have been the platform. But I’m so grateful for the PAQ platform; it’s something that’s completely different, something that’s not been done before. And I do feel like it’s given me access to things, particularly in the fashion world, that I wouldn’t have had access to before. PAQ has enabled me to find more interesting ways to mix art and fashion, which also contributes to my other stuff.  

Something that strikes me about your work is that the emotion behind it is really important; is communicating that emotion as central to the artwork itself? 

Yeah, 100%. In art, whatever platform it takes: music; movies; literature; whatever – if it doesn’t move you then, in my opinion, it couldn’t get further away from an artwork. Art should essentially be made up of raw emotion. Things that are very bland, where you don’t know much about the artist and what they’re thinking, aren’t for me. There are other artists that I’m not really interested in, like sometimes Jackson Pollock’s work – it doesn’t always interest me. It’s very contemporary, but just not the style of art that I would have in my house because it doesn’t represent how I’m feeling. I like emotions, they should always be the centre point of anyone’s art form.  

You’ve touched on this a little already, but what ambitions do you have for your work in the future? 

When everyone talks about my stuff now, they call me a presenter. Also, I hate people calling me an influencer; I’m like, ‘bro, I’m not an influencer – please don’t call me that.’ I want to do what I love as a lifestyle, but also redefine the respect that painters get. It’s like, I always see hip hop stars, actors, presenters at fashion shows – I’d love to get invited to all these things with my main title as ‘artist’. That’s the kind of respect I want for painters, because I think there’s a lot of talented people, artists, poets working at a level of quality that I appreciate. I’m grateful for the fact I’m able to do PAQ, but grateful for my artwork because that allows me to blend the two, you know? So, that’s pretty much the goal: to redefine the level of respect for artists everywhere – and also for the black community as well. I feel like the black community is constantly left out of the art world. I mean, it’s a very tough world for black people to get into, but I believe that we’re in the right time, in the right generation, to make that change. So, I would love to be one of the people that spearheads that as well. 

I think that’s a really valid point – I think you can definitely see in the fashion world, it’s opened itself up more to include more people, but art is still quite closed off. I guess it’s easier to say, ‘I’m into fashion’ than it is to say ‘I’m a poet.’ 

I feel like it’s going to be a mission, but I’m willing to do it.

It’s going to be fun too; a lot of ups and downs, but it’ll be rewarding in the end. 

Tiffany Nicholson

The Wonders We Seek are Inside Us

Credits

Photography · TIFFANY NICHOLSON
www.tdnphoto.com
www.instagram.com/tdnphoto

Aëla Labbé

Apparition Disparition

Apparition Disparition is a series of photographs that belong to a larger multi-disciplinary ongoing project called MOSI (meaning moss in Icelandic). MOSI was initiated in 2016 by french photographer Aëla Labbé and icelandic choreographer Bára Sigfúsdóttir in collaboration with norwegian composer Eivind Lønning and french performer Stéphane Imbert. Body, space, instincts, nature, flesh, soil, sound, rock, breath, softness, matter, water, presence, time, landscape, air. In search of connections between what is visible and invisible.

Apparition Disparition was created in Mývatnssveit, Iceland during May/June 2016 and July 2018.

Mary Elizabeth Ford

«Whatever someone thinks is out of my control, and I like it that way»

When did you start drawing and creating?

More intentionally, about 4 years ago.

How do you find the balance between the vision you have and the mediums you are using?

The vision I have is always so rough. I’m a moody person and because of that, I make things on a very emotional basis. I don’t quite set out with a vision of what I’m going to make. It just sort of happens. The mediums honestly differ by whats in front of me, or how much money I have to make something. When I started doing wire faces I was just too broke to buy paint and I had a lot of dry cleaner hangers, so I started furiously bending them. Most of my paintings on paper, are on really crappy paper because I don’t plan ahead and that’s usually whats lying around. So, it changes frequently and there is no method.

What inspired your style of work?

I don’t know if I can really control the style I have. I don’t even know what style it is, but every time I try to do something that doesn’t feel like me it really bleeds through and I have to scrap whatever I was trying to be.

Where do you get inspiration from? Are there any particular artists, photographers, painters drawers you look up to their works? 

The environment that I’m surrounded by plays a huge part in what inspires me. What I’m feeling, specific colors, where I live, structures, and personalities all play. Without thinking about it too much, Basquiat, Helen Frankenthaler, Vivian Maier, Kindah Khalidy, are what come to mind immediately. It really varies. I really lean towards following and getting inspired by people that have very different styles or approaches to me.

How long does it take to create a piece? What is the process being it?

Time varies. The process differs too. I tend to have an idea of what I’m feeling drawn too, go with it, hate it, rework it, like it, again and again, until it feels good, lots of layers. I’m a goddamn onion.

Would you say that there is a main thread connecting all your artworks and if so, which is it? 

I don’t know. I definitely get emotional with all my pieces. Maybe that bleeds through or maybe it doesn’t. But, I guess the main thread is I don’t hold back from all the things I want to make or how into it I get, so they are very honest to who I am and I guess I really hope that translates to all mediums and works of art that I do.

What kind of talks would you like to hear around your artworks? What kind of conversations would you like your artworks to spark?

You can not control what people say. If you make a thing and it’s out in the world, you cant get mad if someone feels differently about a piece than whatever idea or intention you had. I definitely put language to a piece after it’s done, not the other way around. Which is for context, not the only way it’s to be thought about. I don’t want to manipulate anyone’s thought process when viewing my work. I guess all I could hope is that someone felt something and wanted to talk about what that feeling is or lack of feeling they have about it. Providing a thing that encourages conversation is really what I want to happen. Whatever someone thinks is out of my control, and I like it that way.

Marleen Pennings

I started with painting portraits. I learned how to mix colours, how to paint skin, fabric and hair. I have always been drawn to abstract painting, though. I experimented, but it felt like it was too soon, I didn’t know how to begin such a process. There’s so much in it. I like the confrontation in abstract work. It’s a good change of focus for me. I like both, very different, processes and techniques. I can get lost in both just as easy. At the moment I’m more focused on abstract work, because I want to explore more, it inspires me to not know where it’s going. For me, painting is the most obvious way to translate an ongoing pace, the world, its people and environment. It’s my language at the moment, it’s always there.

Designers

  1. Follow the Green (2015)
  2. Copper (2016)
  3. Germany Series (2016)
  4. Melon (2017)

Luisa El Bouyahyani

Space in Between

Space can be seen as a free and borderless. As I searched to fund out how to visually capture an in-between space, a creative process developed. is creative process consists of taking photographs of places and textures, defining forms out of the surrounding and recombining all of it.

I define ‘natural’ as in something you do that feels good, pleasurable, right and authentic to you no matter what the activity might be. When you follow what holds your interest, are true to yourself and do what you really love and what defines you as a person.

To me talent is the successful synergy of passion and soul. It’s something that differentiates people from one another. Talent is being yourself. It’s an ability, a skill set, an expression of a passion that is located in you, sometimes hidden, sometimes more obvious. I think everyone has a certain natural ability, something they are good in without trying hard or even being aware of it.

Talent is something that grows. Something you might need to train through learning about yourself and your passion, being in a right and positive environment, overcome fear and self questioning, staying curious and open minded about your passion – and as a creative – trying to work on personal projects, experimenting and expressing your mindset (visually), no matter how individual or non-suitable it seems to be for the majority.

Jessalyn Brooks

«The beginning of popular, female beauty standards didn’t start in magazines, it started in paintings and sculptures – all made and decided by men»

When did you start painting and creating and what pushed you towards it?

I first started painting when I was about 15 years old. I stopped after my first year of art school. After not touching a brush for about 13 years, I started back up again. I have no idea why. Maybe it’s just that thing where people say “fuck it” when they’re in their 30’s. I started small, just doing drawings and small paintings. Then my dog of 13 years died in November of last year. That’s when I went all in. It helped me cope.

How do you find the balance between the vision you have and the mediums you are using?

Right now I’m using oils. I don’t know how I forgot how messy and frustrating (and dangerous!) they could be. Working quickly with patience is something I’ve always been good at. Mixing thinners with oil bodies speeds up drying time and still giving it a good finish and texture. I don’t even know if what I’m saying is right. I’m still so new at this. It’s been a lot of trial and error. That being said, color is very important in my work. The mixing takes most of the time. The placement of the color blocking is always the challenging part. I move back and forth between monochromatic and complimentary colors-, contrast and muted palates. It’s rare that I ever map or plan anything out, so I kind of just rely on my instinct. The oils are a pain in the ass when you’re being precise but the organic feel- the natural pigments and hues- are so much more important to me.

What inspired your style of work?  Where do you get inspiration from? Are there any particular artists, photographers, painters drawers you look up to their works? 

I guess I’m mostly inspired by artists of the early 20th century cubist movement. Braques, Klee, Picasso, Severini, Picabia, etc. I’m inspired by the romance of industry: machines, shape, metal, volume, movement. I’ve actually been living in a factory for the last seven years here in Los Angeles. It was built in 1910 as a textile factory and still to this day functions as one (I just live here illegally…) A lot of the shapes I’m inspired by come from the old relics that live around this building- the furnace tower outside my window, the layers in the stairwells, the half-moon windows in the mezzanine. I’m surrounded by industrial life, I guess it’s only natural it finds its way into my work.

How long does it take to create a piece? What is the process being it?

Each piece is obviously different. Some of my larger pieces may take me days, some of the small ones take me an hour. I normally start with an oil wash- normally an umber or cadmium orange of some sort, then I move on to the composition, where I use a light oil wash to make my forms. When that dries, I start the color blocking process, which is when I just go on auto pilot. The mixing takes about half the time. The colors have to shout at me before they find their way onto the canvas.

Would you say that there is a main thread connecting all your artworks and if so, which is it? 

The main thread in my work is typically a strong, angular, full-bodied woman (or two, or three). It’s the only thing I’m certain of- That I am a body and that I work. A lot of my work is really just me and what I remember about my body and the environment I’m in.

What kind of talks would you like to hear around your artworks? 

I’d like to think that my work is more than just pretty nudes. For centuries in art, the female form was made solely for the male gaze. The beginning of popular, female beauty standards didn’t start in magazines, it started in paintings and sculptures – all made and decided by men. Most of my followers are women. I am a woman. There are no beauty standards applied to my paintings, yet you still know it is a form. The beauty is in the familiarity- the distinctive and almost subliminal contours of the female form that we sometimes neglect- the divot between the hip and thigh, the hill along the forearm, the bridge of the foot, the space between the armpit and the breast… THOSE are the shapes that I love. I try to really do those parts justice. haha.

Credits

Adebayo Bolaji

Mother

«I see things in a way that jazz might sound»

Adébayo Bolaji is a self-taught painter. Having come to this point via law and acting, his practise has eschewed all the standard points of reference that the art world gravitates towards. Bolaji has, nonetheless, taken the art world by storm, so to speak. It is not difficult to see why; visually, his multi-media works are captivating, intricate, yet bold. There is no doubt that colour plays a central role in his paintings, and whilst it is difficult not the get lost in the depth of colour, texture and shape, Bolaji pushes the viewer to go further. Speaking to Bolaji, it is clear that, through his work, he seeks to resist the conventional – be that, conventional constructions of narrative and what we expect from its linearity, or the conventions of art practise and the ways in which we engage with exhibition spaces. At a time when postmodern art is institutionalised and its methods of subversion thus taken to be the norm, Bolaji’s show ‘Rituals of Colour’ at Public Gallery, London, last autumn carved out its own territory. Below, we discuss the logics behind the show’s hand-written captions, the deeper meanings of colour and shape, and how a painting manifests itself through the eyes of Bolaji. 

NR: Does the influence for your work come as a result of direct experience, or an unconscious culmination of different encounters? 

Adébayo Bolaji: Definitely the latter, and I don’t try to analyse the encounters or experience; if anything I am analysing the work when I’m in the act of painting. It’s after the work is finished that I go, ‘Hey man, what is this about?’ It’s ironic because, in the act of painting, I am constructing, to which you might ask, is constructing not a conscious act? Well, it is, but I respond to shape, colour and try to feel out or listen to what the art is trying to say to me; so I am like an active observer. It’s not just aesthetic, however, it is more like philosophy. I’ve recently been reading Nietzsche’s ‘Beyond Good And Evil’. He explores the concept of trying to find truth, and the irony and contradictions of doing that: what is one using to measure this ‘truth’? So, thinking about your question again, it is both: direct experience and unconscious encounters because, arguably, the two cannot be separated.  

NR: How do constructions of narrative and performance shape your role as an artist who paints?

AB: We use words to understand things and put them into departments so we get a better sense of them. So, constructions of narrative and performance are words that relate to a particular knowledge of a form, and form is an image – a tangible one. I’m realising that I see things in a way that jazz might sound. If you listen to Coltrane, or even bebop, and hear how wild an instrument like the tenor sax sounds against all the other sounds, it can be seen as sounding crazy, that it isn’t music, it’s self-indulgent. To me, this chaos is organised chaos; it’s very free in its expression, but it is still complimentary. I see how these elements all connect and feed into each other organically. The construction of narrative, at least in drama, revolves around a protagonist, who wants something they do not have. The story is about trying to get or be this thing, and the drama is someone or thing standing in their way. This has to have high stakes: if the protagonist fails, they stand to lose a lot, making the story exciting and keeping the audience connected til the end. A performance is about self-awareness, and the use of one’s space, pace, timing, energy and listening. I try to express all these things in a single line on a canvas or page. In one line, there is emotion; speed; pressure; spatial awareness; and positioning. Narrative has shaped my mind to know how to place figures, shapes, it’s even shaped how I approach how to hang a show. 

NR: For your Rituals of Colour show at Public Gallery, you reconstructed your studio space: how important is your studio to your practise?

AB: Very. One of my favourite artists, Francis Bacon, said of his studio that images form out of the chaos – his studio was a giant, fantastic mess. I loved that. Your space, how it is, affects the mind and body a lot. Even if you walk into a restaurant, its ambience, how the waiters are dressed, how clean the windows are – that’s already preparing you psychologically for what the food might taste like! Again, it goes back to this idea of how things are connected. This also means how much time I spend in and out of my studio; your surroundings are just as important. Music and light in my space is important too, it’s all a part of it. 

NR: You have said that you decided to hand write the captions for the work on show at Rituals of Colour in order to reveal to the viewer the tangibility of the work, something which, to me, evokes the ideas of Brechtian theatre; is there something in that?

AB: Yes. I like people to be engaged and ask ‘why?’ The Brechtian Verfremdungseffekt (distancing effect), makes people aware of their existence, it reminds them that they are alive and not just walking zombies, and to be critical viewers. 

That said, I’m not against the escape. I use a lot of colour and expression in the work, and anything that is seemingly emotional allows for a sense of wonder and escape. 

In the exhibition, I didn’t just write the titles, I added poetical or odd sayings that were connected to the paintings. To me this was more interesting than just naming the painting and it’s materials. There is way too much ‘should’ in the gallery, when, ironically, we are supposedly encouraging the artist to free themselves from the presupposed, and to introduce us to the new. 

NR: Do you place particular importance in the support material you use in your paintings, like, for instance, the 1950s ironing board used for The Agreement?

AB: Not intrinsically. I don’t even know if I always like a piece when it is finished so, sometimes these support materials are a way of trying out new things, and sometimes they are conceptual. The ironing board was definitely conceptual, so it has theoretical importance but, at other times, it’s purely because I like the way it looks or want to try something new. I think there is a danger in trying to push an idea, I think it stops us really listening to ourselves and our planet. I do feel that real connection occurs through honestly, not when trying to push an idea just for the sake of it. I like artists like Purvis Young, who take the idea of using what is accessible to them, a collage in a way, and as a kind of ‘by any means necessary’. I really gravitate to this kind of work, because it sticks to you in a visceral way, makes you want to go and create as well because it ignites the body, not just the mind. However, technically speaking, the foundation of any material is very important and can affect the outcome of the work, it actually allows for the freedom that comes later, so in that sense the support material has intrinsic value from a technical and aesthetic point of view.  

NR: What inspires the choice of colour in your work – is its significance predetermined, or something more flexible? 

AB: Never predetermined. I may feel like I want to pick up blue, because that’s what I am seeing, but I go and lay down a red – like I’m translating a colour with another colour. I am led by colour a lot, even if it is the absence of it. There are painters like Bob Thompson who used colour in a magnetic way. Then you have [Egon] Schiele, whose use of colour is mind-blowing because it is there, in the midst of the absence of visual. Or, classical painters like Peter Paul Rubens, who was very brave with colour in the context of his time. I find painters like this inspirational, but I also look to fashion designers: they understand colour better than most people. Colour is more powerful than we realise. Like music, it has its own sound and voice. 

Lilian Martinez

«I like to celebrate women of color»

When did you start painting, drawing and creating and what pushed you towards it?

I started painting about 4 years ago. I studied photography, but I really struggled with it. There were always obstacles like, light, perspective, color, etc. When I started painting I realized I could finally create an image that felt perfect to me.

How do you find the balance between the vision you have and the mediums you are using?

It is usually instinctive. I pick the medium that makes sense to me based on what I want the final outcome to be.  

What inspired your style of work? Where do you get inspiration from? Are there any particular artists, photographers, painters, drawers, designers or architects you look up to? 

I like to combine classical architectural elements with contemporary cultural markers. You can see a lot of the same themes through out my work, like fountains, women, bart, the nike logo, etc. I focus on things that I think are beautiful and things that I think are humorous. I really enjoy looking at work from Henry Moore and Paul Cezanne. 

What is the process behind the creation of a piece? 

I get an idea for an image that I want to create. Then I have to figure out how to make it. That usually involves a sketch and sourcing materials. Sometimes I have to allow myself to move away from the original idea a little bit based on the process. In the end if it feels right then it’s right. 

Would you say that there is a main thread connecting all your prints and if so, which is it? 

The strength and beauty of women inspire a majority of my work. I like to celebrate women of color in particular because they were under represented when I was growing up. I grew up in a time period where women of color were very rarely included in conventional media. This is my way of creating alternate histories from my personal experience.  Even now although there is more inclusivity, comparatively it seems very minimal.

What kind of talks would you like to hear around your artworks? 

I hope that people feel joy when they see my work. When I am moved by an art piece it speaks to me without using language. In this same type of way I would like to communicate with the viewer without using words.  

What would be the dream collaboration?

I would love to design a wine label or a piece of furniture. With who I’m not sure :*) 

Designers

  1. Woman
  2. Pastel Courtyard
  3. Ladder
  4. Interior
  5. Reading
  6. Lipstick
  7. Woman In Frame
  8. Woman On Vacation

Michael Salerno

«a place that exists beyond language»

When did you start creating collages and taking pictures?

I’ve been creating images of one sort or another for almost as long as I can remember, but I made my first series of collage-photographs — a series called “Skulls/Boys” — in 2006. I say “collage-photographs” because they start as collages, but the end result is a photograph of the collage taken during the process of making it. In some ways, the images in this first series were a progression of the work I had been creating for the zines I was making in the years leading up to this. I started making zines in 2001 and in them you can pretty much see all of the elements that I’m still obsessed by and working with today. So these zines were really formative for me and they lay the foundations for what would follow aesthetically, emotionally and thematically.

How do you find the balance between the vision you have and the mediums you are using.

I work in quite a few different mediums, but it’s always essentially the same process and the idea and emotion I have will generally dictate what form it should take. I just try to find the best way to articulate what I’m trying to express. Sometimes the idea is clearly a still image, other ideas have movement, sometimes I hear sounds, sometimes there’s no images at all and just words. 

What inspired your style of work?

I’m really into things that have a strong mood and I like building little worlds that give me an emotional charge. I’m also really into contrast and how not only the meaning, but also the complete feeling of an image can change depending on what it’s placed next to. I use this kind of contrast a lot in my work, in both my collage-photographs and my films and videos.

Where do you get inspiration from? Are there any particular artists, photographers, painters you look up to their works? 

My work is really personal and a lot of it is very rooted in the sensations and feelings of my own childhood. It’s like there’s this place inside me, a place that exists beyond language, and a lot of my work is an attempt to articulate what’s inside this place. I always refer to my work, particularly the collage-photographs, as “interior landscapes” because thats what they feel like to me. I’m also really interested in childhood in general. I think it’s such an extraordinary time in our lives. When I think back to my earliest memories, maybe four years old, everything seems so dark, so mysterious and so completely moody. Everything’s over-sized, out of proportion, and my perceptions of what I see and feel are so rich. I can’t make sense of it, but something about this just keeps pulling me back in.

How long does it take to create a piece? What is the process behind it?

Generally, with my collage-photographs, I tend to work in very concentrated, short bursts. I always have at least several projects that are in progress at any one time — usually film projects, because they tend to take a long time — but with the collages, it’s not unusual for me to not make anything at all for very long stretches of time and then have a burst of activity where I make a whole lot of work in a very short, intense period. I have to be in a very specific mood to make this work, so I wait and wait until there’s a sense of urgency about it, then it’s kind of like an eruption. The work needs to be pure, it needs to come from the right place, so I never try force it. In the meantime, I make films.

Would you say that there is a main thread connecting all your artworks and if so, what is it? 

Yeah, there’s a very strong thread. All of my work is about childhood, and I really like to see images of children next to images of tornadoes and tornado-destroyed landscapes. There’s a bit of an obsessive element to it too, because I essentially keep doing the same thing over and over, trying to get closer and closer to something.

What kind of talks would you like to hear around your artworks? What kind of conversations would you like your artworks to spark?

I’m not sure. I never think about things like that. But, I guess if I had to choose an ideal response, it would probably be that people don’t think anything, but that my work could hit them in an emotional way.

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