Inside the Artist’s Studio: Christa Holka
Christa Holka out and about!
Christa Holka is an American photographer based in London. She holds an MA in Fine Arts from the Central St. Martins College of Art & Design in London, a BFA in Photography from Columbia College Chicago, and a BA in Literature from The State University of New York. There are many reasons I went through the trouble to meet her at the cozy FIRST OUT CAFE-BAR in central London to discuss her work. At a first glance, Christa struck me to be a stylish, hip, cool, creative, on-the-scene individual with a mission – specifically a queer mission, which she rushed to define for me in Judith Butler’s words:
Christa Holka, "Harley Frosted Beard"
My understanding of queer is a term that desires that you don’t have to present an identity card before entering a meeting. Heterosexuals can join the queer movement. Bisexuals can join the queer movement. Queer is not being lesbian. Queer is not being gay. It is an argument against lesbian specificity: that if I am a lesbian I have to desire in a certain way. Or if I am a gay I have to desire in a certain way. Queer is an argument against certain normativity, what a proper lesbian or gay identity is.
Christa Holka, "Jillian & Nancy NYC"
Christa turned out to be down-to-earth conversationalist, whose vision and agenda is not coincidental but rather rooted in the very core of who she is. Back in Chicago, she was a member of the infamous The Chicago Kings, a drag performance troupe that played a key role in the development of her work. In an Artxxmagazine interview, Christa sums up that experience:
After my first time on stage with the Chicago Kings, I was totally hooked. I mean how could I not be? At our first show there were over 300 people in this tiny back room of a sports bar in a weird neighborhood in Chicago’s West Loop and that night the bar was having some kind of flooding problem, but that didn’t stop anyone. The night was electric. The crowd was hungry and we were feeding them. It was like everyone had been waiting for this moment and finally it was there. What was so attractive about us? Jeez! I’m not sure! Maybe that’s a better question for people who were in the audience? For me, what I liked about it was being on stage, performing and getting so much attention for it. Girls were screaming, always wanting more! I seriously felt like a rock star sometimes. In the beginning I didn’t really think about the provocative statements we were making, it was just happening. It was a lot of collaborating and many of us were artists so it was this big performative collaboration that happened to be drag king performances.
Christa Holka, "Swim-suit boys," London, 2008
A highly social artist, Holka has made it her business to capture moments of queer manifestations with her Canon 5D or the Canon Ixus 960IS (digital point and shoot), Mamiya 645 Pro, or even her Diana Holga. She has long earned the trust of her subjects and nearly 50,000 images prove just that. They can be found on Flickr, Facebook, and her own website. Befriend Christa to get a sense of why she is also knows as the Queer Paparazzi and if you happen to be a socialite in London, be aware of the lady behind the flashes.
Christa Holka, "Liz"
The predecessors responsible for Christa’s career path are: Nan Goldin Claude Cahun, Philip Lorca di Corcia, Tina Barney, Larry Clarke, Brian Finke, Wolfgang Tillmans, Dash Snow, Martin Parr, Guy Bourdin, Nikki S. Lee, Larry Sultan and others.
Read on, simply because what the naked eye sees as a plaid-shirt community, the camera lens re-articulates as a culturally and politically queer archive.
Georgia Kotretsos: Let’s take this from the beginning… tell me about the community that fills your memory cards. What does it mean to you? What are you looking at and for through your camera lens?
Christa Holka: Well, my community is made up of my very close friends, acquaintances and people in general who are engaged with non-normative temporalities, people on a different timeline than heteronormative culture. Like, we go out and play in the park at midnight and ride bikes through the streets and play games at times when people in normative communities are doing the whole reproductive schedule thing: get married, buy a house, have kids, etc. I mean, of course queers are also doing that in various ways, and I’m not against that, it’s just not the schedule I’m on at the moment. My community is also a time and a place where I feel a sense of belonging. My friends mean the world to me; they are a part of me. I think of them like family. I’m looking at my community through my camera, trying to write a part of a queer history capturing glimpses of the time and space I occupy. Like historians, I’m looking for a way to make sense of what’s happening now, looking at the past, to look forward to what’s next.
Remembering artist and friend Flo McGarrell
Flores McGarrell I lost my voice. Incredibly frustrating because I have a lot I need to say right now. I just make ridiculous squeaking sounds. […] I think I should just shut up for a while, I have a lot to think about right now anyway.
January 12 at 9:43pm · Comment · Like
This is what everybody who cared about Flo McGarrell was confronted with on his Facebook wall, from January 12 onwards. An outpouring of solicitous messages from friends, relatives, and peers filled his wall again and again and again for days. The first hopeful piece of information that was posted informed us that Flo’s good friend Sue Frame, who was visiting him in Haiti, had survived the earthquake and she knew where Flo was trapped.
I will skip everything else in between and take you to a few days ago, when Sue Frame finally made it back to the States with her friend. Flo McGarrell (1974-2010) passed away on Tuesday, January 12, when the Peace of Mind Hotel collapsed while Flo and Sue were inside. They were making a quick stop on their way back to Jacmel from Port-Au-Prince.
It was not so long ago that I worked with Flo on a post for this site, and I absolutely hate that I am now writing a Remembering artist and friend Flo McGarrell piece. You see, when I think of Flo, I instantly think of an enormous inflatable TV, a bright pink installation, beavers, cats, and her passion to turn trash into treasures. I met Flo when he was a young woman – we were both graduate students at The School of the Art Institute of Chicago in 2002. He had intense sky-blue eyes, a memorable hairdo, a huggable frame, and a hospitable home. There was a drive, a force, and a spirit so well entrenched that they made Flo indestructible. He often raised his left eyebrow. I could never tell what that meant.
Inside the Artist’s Studio: Alexis Avlamis
Alexis Avlamis at his studio at the Vermont Studio Center, Winter 2009
Alexis Avlamis is a Greek painter based in Athens, Greece, with a BFA degree with honors from the Athens School of Fine Arts (2002). Soon after, in 2004, he pursued a Master’s degree at the Rhode Island School of Design in Providence, RI, but a year later he deferred admission indefinitely due to personal and financial reasons. Some say that everything happens for a reason and in Alexis’s case, I believe that’s true.
Upon his return to Athens, he committed to his studio practice and to the creative path he had chosen, which was no other than encaustic painting. His tenacity is inspiring, in terms of the amount of research that has gone into controlling and mastering his craft.
I had only been familiar with his work for couple of months before I first visited his studio two years ago. A potent scent of natural wax had literally soaked the entire apartment, and the view of his outdoor working area at the time was just dazzling. As I walked out, the soft humming that I was aware of from the get-go could now be attributed to the countless bees. They were visiting just like I was – drawn by the myriad wax blocks of various qualities spanning from the US to China. While Alexis was briefing me on encaustic painting, I was becoming more and more uncomfortable, as the bees’ perseverance to befriend me was a rather animated experience. It must’ve been early summer and we stretched his massive canvas in the front garden. Heating plates, containers, pigments—you name it—it was all there; this was a painter at work.
Alexis is currently in residence at the Vermont Studio Center (VSC). Luckily, I had the opportunity to view his latest body of work early this fall and I had to tell you about it. He has created many large-scale works of luscious and luminous surfaces – ideal for one to meditate on the world that unfolds within them. Inch by inch, theriomorphic creatures, mystical landscapes, and fragile details occupy the space of the canvases. Highly controlled strokes and a rich palette give life to the emotional menagerie of the artist. Extremely hard to photograph, one can only get a real sense of Alexis’s world up close.
Alexis is a gentleman and a dear friend, and I am inviting you to continue on Inside the Artist’s Studio with me in 2010, with this first post for the new year.
Alexis Avlamis, "Unity," 2008. Encaustic on canvas, 180 x 240 cm (5.9 x 7.9 feet).
Georgia Kotretsos: What does the traditional encaustic technique bring to your ornate microcosms? Is there a contemporary take on the technique?
Alexis Avlamis: I was first introduced to the archaic technique of encaustic (hot-wax painting) in 1998, at a Benaki Museum exhibition in Athens. It focused on the relationship between Byzantine art and the painterly traditions of antiquity. It was the first time I had the opportunity to observe up-close the art of mummy portraiture, or better yet, Fayum portraits (mid-1st century through the beginning of the 3rd century). What captivated me was the lifelike appearance of the portraits—their luminosity, sensual beauty, and permanence. Through lots of experimentation with the technique, I came to a realization that would serve as an ideal vehicle for me to explore the ambiguous, improvisational nature of my imagery. Also by doing extensive research, I realized that paradoxically, the oldest easel painting method dates back to the 5th century.
So, the multiple extraordinary and contradictory qualities of waxes and plant resins offered me the stimuli to discover an unsurpassable wide range of unique painting qualities and techniques. I have always been attracted to raw and unadulterated natural substances. An aspect of my practice is to engage with sustainable agriculture; thus sourcing pure wax from local bee farms came naturally to me. In that way, I had a chance to closely observe and appreciate the delicate interdependence of bees’ life cycle and of those who keep them. Spending time with the beehives feeds my imagination as I experience the buzz of activity. In addition, the discussions I often have with the hospitable bee farmers have helped me come to understand how global warming has seriously impacted their way of life. I value their conversations tremendously because I share their concerns.
Inside the Artist’s Studio: Lisa Bradley
Lisa Bradley at her brand new studio space in Brooklyn, NY.
Detroiter by birth and New York-raised, Lisa Bradley is an artist based in Brooklyn, NY. She earned a Bachelor’s degree in Sculpture & Extended Media from Virginia Commonwealth University in 2001, and an MFA from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago in 2004. That same year, Lisa was a studio fellow in the Whitney Independent Study Program. She received a Professional Development Fellowship from the National Endowment for the Arts in 2004, and in 2005 held a visiting professorship in sculpture at the Tyler School of Art in Philadelphia. In 2006, Lisa moved to London to collaborate with a group of UK artists, and then completed an MA in Art & Media Practice at the University of Westminster in 2007. While residing in London, she received an artist’s commission from Whitechapel Gallery, and was also artist-in-residence there from 2008-09. Bradley has recently returned to the US and currently resides between New York and London, where she is completing a PhD in Visual Culture.
Inside the Artist’s Studio has given me the opportunity to reconnect with Lisa on the occasion of her return back to the States. She is one classy young woman whose political consciousness goes hand-in-hand with her work. Lisa is not an art producer but rather an art thinker with a clear voice – a voice that she makes heard when the time is right.
I enjoyed working with Lisa on this post a lot. It is my pleasure to introduce to you, Lisa Bradley.
Georgia Kotretsos: After living and working for three years in London, you’re back in Brooklyn, NY. How did you find the art scene in London and why did you move there in the first place?
Lisa Bradley: I’d describe London’s scene as difficult to penetrate – not that I was even trying to. I was there trying to work out stuff I had going on within myself. Yet I got the sense that Americans, all Americans, were viewed as being very brash, opportunistic, and careerist. If I were any of those things, I’d be rich and famous by now!
But I think the fact that I was there, I was American, and I was an artist made people, especially other artists, wonder what I wanted. It’s a small country and maybe the size breeds defensiveness. Also, I think the UK is going through a period when it feels very “invaded”: as if everyone from everywhere else is coming to take what it has. Possibly because it did this to other countries and is experiencing the big payback! Whatever the case, I didn’t connect with very many artists there; people do want to visit your studios, but, oh no, you can’t come to theirs!
I was really hoping to collaborate with other artists, but the attempts weren’t productive because of what I felt was this fundamental “closedness.” It’s the most international city in the world, but I discovered that being “foreign” and “American” are not the same thing! It was a huge stroke of luck to connect with the curators at Whitechapel, who were excited about my work and liked my ideas. Usually opportunities like this have come through other artists, but this one didn’t. I went there to apply for a part-time job and had a conversation that led to me applying as an artist-in-residence.
I moved to London in September 2006 primarily because of my profound disappointment with the political climate in the US. Bush had somehow landed in the White House again, and things were continuing to deteriorate at a level I’d not seen in my lifetime. Then Katrina happened in August 2005. At that point, the mask was ripped off: American racism was displaying its core. The news media was using terms like “refugee” to describe American citizens whose ancestors literally had this country built upon their backs, and though I know America like the back of my hand, I was shocked. I felt powerless and furious and needed to step back from the US and look at it from a distance. In retrospect, I see that my second reason for leaving was related to that same idea of distance. I think artists really do need to move around a bit and look at things from different angles. It was immensely significant for my practice.
Inside The Artist’s Studio: Joulia Strauss
Joulia Strauss at MYLIVINGROOM studio in Athens, Greece
It would be an oversimplification to introduce Joulia Strauss to you as a Russian visual artist who lives and works in Berlin, Germany. Joulia is a Mari, from the Mari El Republic located in the eastern part of the East European plain of the Russian Federation, along the Volga River, right where the Ural Mountains begin. This small community of approximately 600,000 people has a rich tradition in the performing arts, and Joulia grew up in the middle of this, with two of her family members at the helm of the Mari National Theater in Yoshkar-Ola.
She got an admirable start in the art world by studying at the Platonic New Academy of Fine Arts in St. Petersburg (founded in 1989), alongside artist and founder Timur Petrovich Novikov. This evolved into the Neo-Academism art movement in the 1990s. In my discussion with Joulia, you’ll see how she entered into the exclusively all-male New Academy, finding herself at the heart of the intellectual elite and queer culture of St. Petersburg at the time.
Classically trained as a sculptor, she creates works reminiscent of an antique and neo-classical idealism, always aiming for harmony, perfection, and beauty with a contemporary twist. She continued to be a member of Neo-Academism when she decided to pursue a fine arts degree at the University of Berlin. Being a skilled craftsman on her own, Joulia soon became fascinated with technology, science, and mathematics. By finding a lot of her answers in science (with the help of prominent thinkers in Berlin), her work began achieving the rigor for which she strove. She founded an artist-run space called art_science for gatherings of critics, scientists, artists, philosophers, in order to enable vital exchange outside of their own networks.
Joulia is highly politicized and conscious of the changes our society is undergoing. The sight of last December’s riots in Greece all over the media literally shook her. Joulia’s deep love and appreciation for ancient and contemporary Greece inspired her to come to Athens on a residency at MYLIVINGROOM in Metaxourgio, to observe and begin decoding the active role of artists in contemporary Greece.
Having taken September off, I am very pleased to return to my column and to you with this Joulia Strauss interview.
Inside the Artist’s Studio: Flo McGarrell
Flo McGarrell at his studio in Vermont.
Flo McGarrell is a visual artist based in Newbury, Vermont, USA and Jacmel, Haiti. He was born in Rome, Italy to American expatriate artists. McGarrell received a B.F.A. in Fibers and an M.A. in Digital Arts at the Maryland Institute College of Art in 1998. He then attained an M.F.A. in Art and Technology Studies at The School of the Art Institute of Chicago where he implemented his hybrid skills in sculpture and digital craft to create architectural scale inflatable sculptural interiors animated with air pressure, light, sound, and video projections. He is currently serving as the director of FOSAJ, a non-profit art center in Jacmel, Haiti.
McGarrell is a full-time resident of Jacmel and during the summer months he retreats to his studio in Vermont. In Haiti, McGarrell’s studio is located on the second floor of FOSAJ, which was previously a coffee warehouse. The FOSAJ space also serves as his living quarters, a place for his assistant, Zaka, and somewhere to hang his hammock.
Zaka tickling Stacy, FOSAJ office/studio/living quarters.
McGarrell tells me that Jacmel is a place where the senses awake–it is visually rich and energetic. The view outside the window is the bright Haitian sunlight, the ocean, coconut palms, almond and mango trees. The breeze brings him smells such as burning trash, cigarette smoke, marijuana from the beach and, in the evenings, the bar next door blasts Kompa music.
It wasn’t so long ago that McGarrell excelled in the making of inflatable sculptures, now specializes in “agrisculptures.” I will say no more. I encourage you to visit his latest show called I ♥ Agrisculpture at AVA Art Center and Gallery in Lebanon, New Hampshire.
The artist adds, “All of the pieces fall under the definition ‘Agrisculpture’ and are part of home-scale food production systems. All works are made with secondhand, found, intrinsically colored plastic, organic material and plants. All pieces are the result of experimentation undertaken in Roswell, New Mexico, Newbury, Vermont, and Jacmel, Haiti.”
My interview with the artist is below and it is an absolute pleasure introducing you to this gutsy artist and friend.
Georgia Kotretsos: Flo, you have a base in Newbury, Vermont, and another in Jacmel, Haiti. Does each space accommodate different studio needs or do you feel like an artist at work in one place more than the other?
Flo McGarrell: I seem to be an artist-person who has only a little separation between art and life–if you will please excuse the cliché. Specifically, I attack whatever I am working on with an obsessive compulsion that we creative types are often afflicted with. It doesn’t stop no matter where I am, regardless of whatever else I am doing. The objects of my ministrations include sculpture, art direction for film, performative identity adjustments, installation, kleptomaniac collecting schemes, so I must be poised to work wherever I am at all times. Whether it’s from my own body, or my car, a suitcase, a friend’s house or anywhere else I find myself.
Inside the Artist’s Studio: Jason Peters
Jason Peters at his studio in Salina Art Center.
Jason Peters is an artist based in Brooklyn, New York. Over the years, he has discovered his muse in found objects – whether they are tires, buckets, or another material that allows him to manipulate it in vast quantities. He is a builder, a maker, and a worker who often turns trash into precious and delicate structures by using modular elements, which he then interconnects like building blocks to create entirely new forms. Peters’s large organic, illuminated structures are playful and light. Somehow they seem easy, as if the artist simply gestured with his hands in space.
I’m rarely drawn to works that seduce my eyes and I never quite trust them, but in Peters’s case, there is a quality that made me reconsider this. It can easily happen to you too, if you view one of his light sculptures in person. You’ll instantly feel like you’re 5 years old all over again and carefree. You would not realize it right away, but after a few moments passed, you’d be able to hear yourself softly gasping with astonishment. You’d be convinced you’re inside some computer game, where a suspending glowing structure is shapeshifting as you walk around it.
Today I’m introducing you to Jason Peters. Let’s consider the limitations an emerging sculptor is faced with early in his career, and how these limitations currently work to his advantage.
Georgia Kotretsos: How important is having a studio for your practice?
Jason Peters: To begin with…having one would be nice but not having a studio has never stopped me from creating work. It was a combination of things in college, where I first began making large works – realizing that material manipulation comes at a cost. This is when I started using found objects in large quantities.
As this process evolved, I had no desire to accumulate or store materials. I only wanted to build the sculpture, document it, and move on to the next project. Also, I had nowhere to store my work or [sustained] interest in it per se, because the art market hadn’t yet value assigned value to my work. So I would either throw the works out or I’d put them back where I had found the materials in the first place – in the trash.
As an artist, I feel that the potential to create is within oneself. The times I had the opportunity to work at a studio were due to being an artist-in-residence. It has been great because it allows me to create 2D works. Being able to create without worrying is a wonderful thing.
Jason Peters, "Untitled," 2009. Drawing cutouts, 19 x 20 inches.
Living in Brooklyn, NY, I have a 40-60 hour-a-week fabrication job, which is how I survive. I have a place in my house where I make work, but it is not a studio setting. I make work when I can, and I do not particularly worry about making work all the time, since some days I get close to making a work and others I feel like I could lose my mind.
GK: Basically, you’re telling me you create in-situ installations, which are built directly on-site. Where do you usually show? What are the conditions that allow you to work at a given location each time?
JP: My works are the products of a systematic process consisting equally of conceptual, formal, and practical elements. I show at places that want to give me a chance. My first large-scale project was at the Center for Contemporary Arts in Santa Fe in 2004. It was my first self-produced solo show. I was brought there by the curator, Kathleen Haniggin, on whom I relied heavily to help with gathering access to materials and volunteers. I went there with a few ideas, but I knew that all could change depending on the material I would find (which would dictate what I could build). The works I build are site-specific because I rarely move any of them around. Recently I did [move my work], for [a project at] The Pulitzer Foundation for the Arts in St. Louis, MO; I will talk about that later on.
Inside the Artist’s Studio: Corey J. Escoto
Corey Escoto at his studio
Corey Josiah Escoto is an artist based in St. Louis, MO. He also happens to be a tranquil, discreet, and steady 26 year-old art surprise who acts, talks, and walks like himself. Escoto is wisely pacing himself, revealing a few of his qualities at a time while continually giving me the impression he is learning, paying attention, and alert without letting it show.
Humble at heart, he has exhibited nationally, internationally, and widely throughout Texas, his home state. He was one of three artists selected for the Great Rivers Biennial at the Contemporary Art Museum St. Louis in 2008, where I first became acquainted with his work, as well as a recipient of the Gateway Foundation Grant. His work has been included in the traveling exhibition New American Talent 23, the Texas Biennial (2007), and has recently shown internationally in exhibitions such as Le Souvenir (Weimar, Germany); Seven Days Brunch (Basel, Switzerland); and Decollecting (Dunkerque, France).
Escoto’s work explores the inevitable conflict between idealism and futility that results from endeavoring to better a troubled world and understanding the tensions of a crowded planet. Complex critiques of world reform organizations are examined through the lens of economics, religion, satire, food, and politics. An ever-expanding collection of vintage United Nations memorabilia continues to inspire and influence much of his work’s earnestly idealistic sentiment.
Corey is living at his studio; he is not working from home. He has created the conditions where he attends to all his creative callings, one of them being cooking. Last time at his place, a friend of mine and I made a memorable exit with a dozen delicious homemade tamales. Either way, a studio visit at Escoto’s will leave you with a fine aftertaste.
Georgia Kotretsos: Please walk us through your current studio situation.
Corey Josiah Escoto: My studio is a really nice live/work space on the second floor of an old brick building in downtown St. Louis. It is poorly insulated and has 12-foot ceilings and big south-facing windows that get really great light and a beautiful view of Washington Street especially at sundown.
The floor below me is a cafe and entryway to the building, above me is another artist, and my next door neighbor has a noisy dog, so I can make as much racket as I need to when making work or playing music in the studio. I have to work in a spot that will allow me to make noise and a place that is not wall-to-wall carpet. I used to live in a small apartment in the university area, but that did not work out for me as I was living next to a bunch of quiet and studious academic types. On occasion, they would leave me semi-polite post-it notes about their displeasure with the shrill sound of “extended periods of high pitched commotion” or their distaste of “old country music being played at unacceptable hours of the night.”
The long narrow space with windows is my main living and working area. This part includes the kitchen, my large table, my computer desk, large freestanding tools, chairs, book and storage shelves, crates, couch, and materials. I have lots of tools (air compressor, miter saw, table saw, hand tools of all kinds) that I use from time to time.
Inside the Artist’s Studio: Seoidín O’Sullivan
Seoidín O'Sullivan standing in her bedroom with work space on the right
Seoidín O’Sullivan is an artist based in Dublin, Ireland. Her art practice investigates sociopolitical and ecological narratives, which she represents in critically engaged and poetic ways.
Working within a group—an art community or with a fellow artist—is an essential parameter of Seoidín’s work. Her creative manifestations are tangible and serve as the departure point for our conversation. Seoidín’s energy is invested in sustaining her collaborations and projects by sharing her views, beliefs, and ideals of a creative society with an extensive community.
It gives me great pleasure to talk to Seoidín about her practice, as I have been following her work for a decade now. Seoidín opened her home to me and generously let me into her world. Read on and acquaint yourselves with this artist.
Georgia Kotretsos: What’s the main focus of your work?
Seoidín O’Sullivan: I am interested in collective dreaming and believing and issues of land ownership; collective organizing and the commons emerge. I am interested in grassroots forms of organizing, in communities feeling empowered and taking ownership and responsibility in and for their localities. I wanted to see these ideas in practice rather than as mere theory, so I created The Community Garden project. I felt so much relational art that I saw and read about was tokenistic. It seemed to coopt ideas from grassroots collectives and activism—take a photograph of this community and move on. I am interested in sustainability, so my projects are long-term and often blur the line between art and activism. Having grown up in Zambia and South Africa, I want to make a connection between a wider dialogue of North and South. Art provides a perfect space to bring these questions and projects together in creative ways. I hope through my practice to challenge the art world and market, and find and create more sustainable ways that we artists can operate. I think with the current economic collapse we are all hungry for ideas. Creative alternatives can begin to emerge.
GK: May you please walk me through your current studio set-up?
SO’S: I have a home studio and I work in other spaces during residency awards. I use a room that operates as an office, workspace, and guest bedroom. It’s where I answer emails, plan projects, apply for funding, and apply for studio residencies. The making of artworks mostly happens outside of this space. I would like to have a long-term studio space in Dublin but simply cannot afford one right now.
GK: How about your fellow Irish artists, how do they sustain a studio practice?
SO’S: A decent-size studio—which is about 6m squared!—costs €240 ($340) in Dublin. Many artists share spaces to half the cost of rent and then allocate days of usage. Or they are on unemployment assistance, which covers the basic cost of rent and living, and then they work part time to subsidize their studios. They have teaching jobs if they are lucky; otherwise waitressing and retail. Artists are creative people. They figure things out, but I’d say most of us are living precariously from month to month.
GK: Artists are indeed creative people, yet are often left to pave their own way by exclusively relying on that very quality. Is there a helping hand on the horizon besides the artist’s own?
SO’S: There are a few avenues that Irish contemporary artists go down in order to support a full-time practice. The first one is to get a gallery to take an interest in their work, thereby helping to build up their reputation. The gallery takes on the role of finding shows and increasing the commercial value of the artists’ works. The second route is to develop a more project-based practice where you are supported through public art commissions.
The Irish Arts Council, which is state-funded, is very generous in its support of artists. It runs twice-yearly bursary awards and also has a new work award and once-off award scheme. The awards are pretty competitive, as you can imagine, but once received, they do buy time to concentrate on a full-time practice for a few months. There are also some subsidized studios, which are equally competitive. In order to get them, you have to develop a good working practice, be visible, and pretty proficient in putting budgets and proposals together. It becomes a lot like running your own business; artists become technocrats and practice makes it easier.
When it comes to private funding, I think most artists look for this if they want to put on a show and need extra support. I have not heard of wealthy patrons supporting individual artists in Dublin, but I should get on Bono about that (laughs). Artists also receive tax exemption, which was recently capped for top earners. (You can ask Bono about that too; U2 moved their bank account to the Netherlands in 2006.) So there are opportunities for artists to get by and concentrate on their practice here in Ireland and be able to pay rent for a while. Then it’s back to proposals and applications. Very few artists survive off their art practice alone.
Inside the Artist’s Studio: Dafni E. Barbageorgopoulou, Athens
With this post, we introduce a new bi-weekly monthly column to the Art21 Blog: Inside the Artist’s Studio, written by Athens-based artist and contributor Georgia Kotretsos. Here’s an overview, in her words:
…A haven, an office, a meeting place, a thinking space where the working hours spent by an artist may easily be considered illegal by outsiders. It’s the space where one composes oneself and tunes in with one’s surroundings, where the placing of one’s own paraphernalia is sacred but at other times simply allowed to rest in ordered chaos. The space where light-footed apprentices gracefully serve the creative process. A place where the scent of art and habits of an artist pierce one’s senses. A space where an artist collects his/her thoughts and then scatters them around freely to be cast into artworks.
Can this really be true? Do we still latch onto romantic notions of what a studio is or can be? Or have they involved over the years along with artists themselves?
For this reason, I am setting out to meet with two one artist a month to discuss their studio practice, whether that is in the streets, at a computer, in their living space, etc. Inside the Artist’s Studio will introduce you to a number of artists’ work. Together we’ll discover where some of today’s art is made.
- Artist Dafni E. Barbageorgopoulou at her studio in Keramikos, Athens, Greece
At Dafni E. Barbageorgopoulou’s studio, art is in the making. Right on Athens’s Keramikou Street, the nest of her creative energy previously served as an Asian restaurant. To this day, evidence of this is found in the dried-up noodles stuck on the tiles on the back wall, apparently there to stay.
There is a boyish, fresh quality in Barbageorgopoulou’s work. Her tapestries are generous gestures of art and her personality reflects this very liberty by drawing from a wide range of influences, such as from Cycladic to Mexican art, science fiction to dreams, geometry to poetry, origami to monumental architecture. A fusion of eclectic ideas, disciplines, and genres make up the profile of her work.
Dafni holds a BFA in sculpture from the Athens School of Fine Arts and an MA in Sculpture from the Royal College of Art in London (2006). As we speak, she is off to the Kunstlerhaus Bethanien International Studio Program in Berlin for a year.
I visited her studio several times—working with her on this post was a pure joy. She is one authentic lady and I’m very please to have her kick off the “Inside the Artist’s Studio” column on this site.
Georgia Kotretsos: Take us through the development of your practice over the past few years and then talk to us a little bit about how these three tapestries (Mother, 2006; P, 2008; Space Kraft, 2009) came to be?
"P," 2008. 350 x 400 x 250 cm
Dafni E. Barbageorgopoulou: My practice focuses on the mapping of bodily experiences, which are then transferred into two-dimensional forms (patterns, collages). These maps/motifs (as in the case of Mother) are consequently being transferred as objects/installations into space (as with P).
At the center of this process is the way in which the body tunes into creative flow. A sense of energy and repetitive movement conducts new rhythms. I am interested in how the final object or situation preserves the levels of energy released during the process of making. This release creates a certain void around the work activating the field around it. The end result becomes lighter, shifts scale, and engages with new materials. Each project is an integral part of a bigger synthesis.
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