Andreu!!! How the hell are ya? Dying of heat… But other than that, I’m doing fine. Where are you at these days? I’m living in Sabadell, near Barcelona. What have you been up to? I’ve been finishing up some works for a bunch of group exhibitions all around the world with a lot of interesting people—all while working every day at Covabunga Studio with two friends.
You killed it with this issue’s cover! Thank you. Why’d you do what you did? I didn’t focus on any particular topic— it’s just an aesthetic I developed trying to simulate the importance and greatness of the content of these pages. I really enjoyed designing the cover for all the freedom that I had. When’d you start with design?
My first contact with this world was in ’02, when my father bought a computer with Photoshop installed, but I didn’t utilize it in any professional way until three years ago. Color, shape and form—but what’s your secret ingredient? A glass of horchata. Are you all self-taught? Yes.
Is design work always fun for you? Always. I could not design if it wasn’t fun—I use it to escape from the shit. So, you write too—when’d that start? I started out in ’02—I was curious about it then and I’m still painting to this day. I may paint less often nowadays, but it’s always a terrific source of creativity for me. Has graffiti been beneficial to your work with design? Totally. I’ve learned a lot about color usage, graphic elements and typeface combination. It’s been an amazing exercise that’s gotten me to do what I’m doing now. How’s the zine coming along? I started Voids many months ago and unfortunately it’s been an outside task between my work and studies, so I’ve had to stop. But it’s not dead, I’m still doing it—I’m just not clear when the public’s going to see my final product... Voids is going out without notice! What do you have in store for us there? I developed Voids as a way to recycle old items and ideas that I’d discarded over time, by creating nice new things utilizing them. The one thing that I can say for sure is that I have the participation of Julià Roig—a great friend and graphic designer from Rubí, Barcelona. When’s that gonna drop? This year. What direction would you like to take your work next? I want to focus a little more on typography/composition and play around with that for a bit. I’m also going to create an editorial project to develop my skills in that area. And, of course, continue to explore shapes and textures… Create new things all the time!
When are you at your most creative? Early in the morning, still in pajamas, drinking my first coffee. Do you have an alter ego? Nope. How exactly does one boogie? [laughs] I don’t know… When boogying, what is it you boogie to? I don’t boogie—I just move my body randomly. Are you facing any limitations? I love facing limitations—it’s the best training to get better. That’s when I discover the most interesting things… How are you going to overcome them? With a glass of horchata. Do you have any upcoming shows or exhibitions? Nothing coming up, but I’m happy to say that I just recently participated in two group exhibitions with people I admire. The first one, The graphic designer as alchemist, was in Antwerp, Belgium and was curated by Corbin Mahieu. The other, called Toner Party, was in Asheville, NC and was curated by Zach Smith. Good times. Are you doing what you love? Yes. What’s next? I’m going to the beach. Any shout-outs? Yes, shout-outs to my everyday lovely people.
Curly!!! How ya been? Been maintaining—helping rotate this here scorched earth. [laughs] Nah, chilling... What’s new with Philly? It’s the same despair, same slivers of hope—Metropolis at its best. How was your show last night? Show was solid—swords getting sharper. What’s it about performing live that keeps it fresh for you? Just that drive to get it perfect—to execute a flawless show—that’s my drive. And the symbiosis between performer and crowd—the dance of energy—there’s nothing purer. Your new album Fidel recently dropped, where were you personally for its creation? The record is my most personal to date. So it’s a fearful hesitation at first, then a freedom at last. I was very confident during its creation and that confidence carried over upon release. How much of your thoughts and beliefs were manifested through content? Fidel is my personal manifestation through sound. If I rhymed in my sleep, I hope it’s Fidel that comes out. Was this work conceptualized in advance, pure release of self or both?
This record went through a few phases before it finally found its footing and I owe this particular opus to my Wrecking Crew family, Zilla Rocca and Has-Lo. They chiseled the granite that was Fidel into a perfect flawless message in stone. They sequenced the record and trimmed the phat and I am eternally grateful to them for that. Did you hold anything back? No. Not one iota was spared. What were your thoughts upon comple-
tion? Pride. And I felt I was finally prepared and weaponized for the coming riots. How do you feel now? Rebellious (it’s self-explanatory). What would you like the listener to feel through Fidel? I’ve been through my share of struggle and growth—Fidel is that journey put to sound. I hope the listeners feel the never-ending shrapnel and remember each cut. …Walk away with?
Hmm… I’ve had folks tell me they had never heard of Medgar Evers until they listened to Fidel—that’s what I want people to walk away with—the notion that intelligence is not a handicap. And the riot is on its way! What change would you like to bring about with music? Music is the chance to be a voice for your people, for the people and for yourself to embody that change. To let people see the power of the word and the weapon within—that’s music to me. And I hope I’m making my ancestors proud. Are you the change that you would like to see? I resemble it at times, but I still have more personal work to do. What changes are you currently focused on? Knowledge of self and the waves that emanate after. What’s worth fighting for? Your freedom, your family and your sanity. Family—who better to remind you of you really are?
Exactly. Where have you found happiness? In a perfect hook, in a flawless verse, in the boom and the bap. What are your thoughts of human nature? We are a living countdown… And not in a good way. How’s peace possible? Through brutal honesty about the human condition. Collective consciousness, original thought, yada yada yada—what’s really real?
I expand, I have influence, I am friction, I exist. The bigger the lie, the more believable—right? No. The smaller the manipulation, the better the control. Have you found community with hip-hop? Yes, I would say I have a very strong support group/surrogate family through hip-hop. Respect to Man Bites Dog Records, Wrecking Crew and Otherground. How’d you get your name? Curly is the comical, the Redd Foxx vitriol—Castro is the militancy, the El-Hajj Malik—put them together and what do you get? …Lightning in a cracked bottle. Did you ever write? I’m a writer, I’m always writing—it’s a curse… [laughs] What’s word with Wrecking Crew? Growing in influence like Akira. Nah, we good... More new blades to come. …Three Dollar Pistol? Three Dollar Pistol is still curving bullets like Wanted. What’s next with Man Bites Dog Records? We have a big showcase coming up at A3C this year—that’s Atlanta folks. And some more powerful records coming as well. Prepare your bomb shelters! Are you doing what you love? Everyday and twice on Sundays. What’s next? I have an EP coming soon, a LP after that, some loose blades as well and then another LP. Just trying to stay active... Any shout-outs? Wrecking Crew, Man Bites Dog Records, Otherground and Jake Paine (my personal Oracle). [laughs] Thanks for the opportunity to slang my slant of proper propaganda. Respect to UNDR RPBLC.
Reuben!!! How’s life on the road treating you? I’m actually in between trips at the moment—stationed in Chicago. Will Liverpool always be home? Always. So yeah, I had no idea you did so much awesome stuff—how’d it all start? I started drawing as a little boy—it was my “big thing”. Music came in around five, when I started learning the violin. Started DJing at seventeen and went to design school when I was nineteen to train in industrial design. Right around the same time the band formed, I was working on design for asthma inhalers, delivery scooters, vodka shot glass holders and packaging for tablets. Photography didn’t really get too serious until I was touring internationally
with the band. I used to draw the early sleeve designs for Ladytron though— which kind of fit in with our DIY aesthetic at the time. Where do you find the time? If you really want to make something happen, you find the time. How’d playing the violin growing up influence who you’ve become today? I grew up understanding music in major and minor keys, time signatures and tempos—I kind of wish I had been exposed to more pop music when I was very young, but it has given me my own unique perspective on making music. What initially inspired you to pick up the camera? A Leica M3 35mm Rangefinder—given to my dad by his dad, then given to me. Film or digital or both? Both. In the end it’s all about the picture. Have you found some of what you might be looking for? Some. Not all. What have you taken from your education as an industrial designer and applied to you work with photography? I think the two disciplines share the same inspiration—I like nature, I like travel and I like civilisation and objects. I think balance and composition are important in both too. Is it safe to say there’s some serious hiking to get to some of these shots? Yes it is. The last big trip I made was a 60 km hike in Southern Patagonia. The camera was a huge burden, but I made some pleasing images with it. What other interests has photography allowed you to further explore? I’m exploring moving image more and more these days. Are you usually listening to music while taking pics? Not so much… Though I was in Moon
Valley in the middle of the Atacama Desert and I put “Chill Out” by The KLF on my iPhone for fun. What’s new with Ladytron? A new album is being made this year.
Do you plan the shoots to coincide with touring? Yes I try to. It’s a rare opportunity to travel to some of the places we’ve played, so I try to maximise and make time to explore. Where are you off to next? A road trip to California this summer. How’d DJing come into the mix? DJing was something I was involved in before I was in the band. I started out on a record player, beatmixing to a CD stereo—it was ghetto. You’ve also got yourself down as a storyteller, whaddya mean by that? The photos tell a story—simple as that. Did you design your site as well? I did, in collaboration with my friend who is a web designer. Where can we get the latest scoop on everything you’re up to? My Facebook Fan Page is the best channel. Do you ever get any time off!? I do! Are you doing what you love? I love some of it. What’s next? Hopefully, the answer…
Albane!!! How are you? I’m great—thanks! Who are you? I’m a French illustrator, vinyl collector and hip-hop ogre. Is it safe to say you’ve found your career? I found my vocation—for sure, but I don’t really make a living from my art yet. Do you tend to naturally find materials based on your personal interests, do you have to search them out or both? Depends, I need to be inspired before I start a new piece. When I get ideas, the rest comes naturally… When’s the last time you got lost in thought? I don’t remember, but it happens every now and again. There are a lot of recurring themes in your work—care to elaborate? Yeah, the environment, politics and conspiracy are topics that inspire me. I aim to create a world—similar to the one we’re living in now—intertwined with the future and my own unique vision. How many album covers have you busted at this point in the game? I’ve done around fifty album covers for underground hip-hop artists. What sparked that? Hip-hop is my first passion—I love digging new underground rappers and producers daily. Around eight years ago, MySpace helped me to contact a few artists that I’d listened to for years. Thankfully, they appreciated the art on my page and a little later on many of them worked with me on their covers. Has word of mouth been a contributing factor to your continued success? Yes, word of mouth and the promotion of my work. Do you have any work that you simply refuse to sell? My art is digital, so I can sell everything! How often do you find your work popping up elsewhere on da Internetz? Sometimes when hip-hop artists share their albums or when fans post it.
What do you write? I don’t—should I? DyN—is that the crew or what? DyN was my old graffiti name when I was teenager—I’ve kept it because graffiti was one of my first steps as an artist. Is there anything you don’t do? Eat caterpillars. When was your last good challenge? Spinning music for a famous graphic art crew from Paris (http://www.9eme.net/quoide9/).
How’d you handle that? I was a little bit nervous because it was my first time, but I liked it! What are your thoughts on your life as an artist? It’s hard to make a living from my art, but it’s definitely worth it. What’s the meaning of life? Get up and be awesome! Have you found happiness? Yes sir! Where can I snag a print or tweny-tweny-twen? Here on my website: http://www.albanesimon. com Do you have any upcoming shows or exhibitions? Yes, coming up here in December in Paris. Are you doing what you love? Sure—art and music are my life. What’s next? We’ll see... I live from day to day! Any shout-outs? I would like to thank all the people who support my art!
Photographers: caffeina, daswsup, Gabri Le Cabri, httpill, KRITERION, Lurking Phantom, New York Art Department, ropesack, Se単or Codo, Susan NYC & tcb613. Thank you all!!!
Jeff!!! How do you feel today? Alright. What the hells happening in Hell-A? Hell if I know. Who is Jeff Hilliard? I was hoping you could tell me… How does that compare to your portrayal of self in work? I never really play myself in my videos. Is it safe to assume that you’re living out your wildest dreams and fantasies through character? My wildest dreams and fantasies would be having the resources to create with no financial restrictions. So no, haven’t got to that point yet. How’d this all happen? I’ve always been a creative person and each thing I’ve done has lead to the next. Why do it? Why not? It gives me something to do with my overactive mind. I mean, there have been many moments were I wish I wasn’t so obsessed with making these songs and videos. Maybe it’s the challenge of making something out of nothing. You know, it really takes serious dedication and lunacy to toil away in obscurity for one’s entire life. What have you invested? That’s hard to answer… Besides resources and time, I’ve also invested a lot of withdrawal from a “normal” life. At times it has felt like my own personal social suicide campaign, but the memories and experiences of putting it all together have really been wonderful. If I ever make it to an old folks home, I’ll have some interesting stories to tell. With investing so much time, effort and money—does that allow you tremendous attention to detail? Well, of course. I apply detail to anything I’m working on—that’s just how I operate. Currently, I don’t live in the commercial world of trying to pander to the masses for the most views or approval. I’ve been told I would need to dumb it down, make it safe and friendly—I suppose similar to a shitty sitcom with a laugh track or something like that… How would funding vary the range and scope of your work? I would be dangerous with money. It always takes a really long time to turn things over, when it should only take days. It’s frustrating, but I know I’m doing the best I can with limited resources. Like most unknown creatives, I feel I’m wasting valuable time because I’m lacking the proper financial means to make each project as efficiently as possible. My entire body of work has cost less than one of Lady Gaga’s outfits. I only say that so people that know my work can put it into perspective when comparing my videos to others. I really believe I could create an empire with the amount of cash it costs to put a celebrity through rehab. What’s your take on the world today? Pretty much borderline misanthrope... To me the world is very dark place—I do my best to respond to it all with absurdism. Does that reflect through your material and performance? A guy who recently watched all my videos told me it felt like an “elaborate fuck you” to the
world. Irreverent, comical, brash, ingenious— where are you in all this? I just make things that inspire me in the moment—labeling any of it is odd for me. I hope everyone has his or her own genuine experience from my work. It’s all mostly based from a satirical point of view played out as realistically as possible. I make my idea the boss and I’m just the employee to it. Does that bring us up to “The Jumpsuit Lifestyle” you’ve embodied oh so dearly? Well, the jumpsuit lifestyle idea was inspired from a comic friend of mine several years ago. She showed up at my place in a jumpsuit and sold me on its simple brilliance. I loved the absurdity and thought it would be hilarious to commit to only wearing jumpsuits. It’s a joke that just keeps going… What meaning does it all truly have for you? I see it as a lovely, fully erect middle finger to everything in life that just needs to go fuck itself. Are you designing all the jumpsuits as well? Yes, I designed the jumpsuits. Jeordie (aka Twiggy from Marilyn Manson) and I recorded a song called “Jumpsuit Man” and I needed to design a jumpsuit for the music video that will hopefully be finished soon. My friend Florencia Carrizo, who is a seamstress, helped me bring that to life. Angela Defoe did all of the branding for the Jumpsuit Lifestyle campaign. The commercials feature Angela’s music. She is currently producing several of my songs. My long time collaborator and Director of Photography, John Orphan, shot the commercials. Is it simply about leading the life, moving some merch or bizoth? I really don’t know what I’m doing—just making myself laugh really. It would be fun to do continuous campaigns for it and build a ridiculous brand. However, it would cost lots of money to do it right. I would be a fun billionaire. For my next life, I need to come from ridiculous money that can’t all be spent in a lifetime. I mean, doesn’t it suck a full eighteen-wheeler truckload of inbred leprechaun dicks that wealth is wasted on so many lame boring people. Wait—what!? Who are all these gorgeous models frequenting photos on your FB? Los Angeles is filled with talent... Has your work ever offended anyone? I hope it offends all the right ones… I know I’m offended daily by what we celebrate as being a society. As long it makes you happy, does it really matter what anyone else thinks? Well, my creative work has always been about making me and my friends laugh. To me, creation has a magical quality and I’m not sure how it all happens sometimes—it’s pretty fascinating and rules my existence. What others get from it is their deal. Hopefully my work will continue to evolve and inspire others to create. How would you like to influence the youth of today? If I could influence the youth of today, I hope I could inspire them to discover themselves and gift their gifts to the world. I think very few people ever actually gift all of their gifts to the world because that requires facing their personal demons and slaying them daily. It’s much easier to just fantasize about gifting their gifts to the world, then to actually go out and gift all of their gifts to the world. I assume most gifters that have ever done any serious gifting were told at some point that it’s impossible and it’s never going to
happen, but the great ones gift anyway. Therefore, I want to tell the youth of today that they are not special or talented and that it will never happen for them. Do you consider yourself to be an honest person? Yes, it makes life much easier. When’s the last time you just had to lie? Every day when I look in the mirror and pretend everything is okay. Are you the quiet type? I’m both an introvert and extrovert—it depends on the time and place. I’m mostly the quiet observer type and in public I like to blend in. Over the years I’ve met numerous people that know me from my videos and they are always surprised at how normal I am. It’s funny to me—they always have a look of disappointment and are usually bummed that I’m not some real life lunatic.
Has anyone ever told you that you look like a serial killer? Yes, numerous times—then I talk and I lose my edge. Basically I’m the little harmless animal in the wild that tries to look scary. Do you have any upcoming shows or exhibitions? May try to do an art show this fall in Los Angeles. Are you doing what you love? Yes, there have been moments of that. What’s next? Well, I just started a new job as a tour guide and I’m hoping it will provide enough dough to make another video. Also, I’m going to do another crowd funding campaign—I’m really excited about that. Any shout-outs? Shout-outs!? Like I’m some kind of a rapper with a posse…
(Images courtesy of L.A. Louver, Venice, CA)
Farrah!!! How are you my dear? Just got out of a sensory deprivation tank, so I’m a little wobbly, but relaxed. Is LA treating you terrifically? We have a pretty good relationship—long term. When did you first pick up the camera? Christmas, sophomore year of college: ’97. My dad worked for a design firm and it was transitioning from analog to digital, so they were getting rid of all of their equipment, like room-sized Polaroid cameras. I got a 35 out of it, went back to school and took my first photo class where I learned how to learn. I could see my prints change over time—not technically per se, but in terms of what I looked at and how. It was self-reflexivity in action. That was an addictive experience, so I became a photo major. When’d you put that bad-boy down? A couple years after college, I went on an editorial assignment to Kosovo to shoot the politics of architecture: churches built to claim territory and burned Serbian villages—that kind of stuff. Rode around with NATO/KFOR troops and talked to guys whose life-long neighbors had put bags on their heads to come in to kill their dads. And then I went back to NY and tried to print my pictures— and it all felt so distant. I got frustrated and slammed a fan down on the photo paper I had on the enlarger table and simultaneously hit the
enlarger button, so the paper was exposed to the silhouette of the fan. I made my first photogram by mistake—it felt really good. What is it about photogram that’s captivated your attention since? It’s a present-tense experience, like drawing in the dark and coming out with a result all at once that immediately reflects the dynamics of what’s just happened. In that way, it’s a record of a—
usually very genuine—performance, but it also creates a really physical relationship to form and space: the scale of my photograms are implicitly tied to what I’m depicting and to the shape and size of the space they’re destined to be hung. I have to deal with all of the materials with my body in the dark, so it opens up a channel for chance outcomes in a process that is otherwise highly planned.
How do you work? Usually I meet someone new and they tell me a story, or I’m driving around, or reading the news online and I see something, or I visit a new space where I’ve been asked to work and consider the nature of that space… And some part of these narratives sticks in my head. It’s usually an image of a body under pressure, whether that body is human, inanimate or abstract. Then I have to remake it in order to understand it. So the working process becomes something like resuscitating a memory, whether it belongs to someone else, or to a space or to myself. I have to think about how much space this memory takes up physically, because photograms record one-to-one scale. Then I have to divide that into panels per default photo paper roll widths. I have to think about how the memory relates to real space too, as in the architecture of the room in which it’ll be shown: can I use an existing door, or corner or floor as a part of the piece? How will that implicate the people looking at the piece? Will they become part of it too? And then I have to think about what’s depicted… If it’s an opaque object, it will cast a silhouette onto the paper and sometimes, as with humans or plants, that silhouette is so articulate it’s enough. If it’s a clear object, I’ll get a lot more information and detail, so sometimes I spend time re-fabricating objects in clear materials like resin or ice. I don’t think of these objects as props or sculptures, but
as negatives—they just clearly don’t derive from a camera. The process of conceiving, sourcing and fabricating elements that will go into a photogram can take months. The photogram itself usually takes one night. I bring all the props, people, paper and my enlarger to a room with no windows that’s near a color photo processor or some troughs for black and white chemistry. I have the people practice their muscle memory of their positions and then I turn off the lights. I cut my paper and hang it on the wall, which takes a good half hour. People get into position in complete darkness, using their sense of touch, mostly, to find their places. I expose the picture for like three seconds, then I’ll usually make a second exposure, having asked them to move their bodies in some other way, either to make a correction to the original posture, or to suggest movement and the passage of time. Then, after those six seconds, they go sit down and I take the paper down and box it up, turn on the lights and process it. And if it’s good—we’re good to go. While I’m working on one of these big pieces, I usually make exploratory or accessory prints on a small scale of some of the sculptural negatives that are going into the final piece, or I print to work out kinks of palette or other abstract issues. So a project usually includes in its constellation of variables a big photogram, some small photograms and some sculptural negatives. Usually, these all lead me to think of a next piece. It’s a self-generating process of following the threads of both everyday life and the art practice. When? I’m always working. I try to relax with the people that let me love them, but that always generates new ideas—then I end up engaging them to work with me too. What do you feel while your doing it? It’s usually a cycle of building, sustaining and releasing tension. It never stops and I’m never doing only one project. Plus, I teach, write, manage my studio and try to be a good friend/daughter. So the cycle is rarely complete for everything all at once and I sustain tension for sometimes a very long time before it really breaks. I have to say that right now, having just completed a public art project in Flint, Michigan, an installation for the Orange County Museum of Art’s California-Pacific Triennial and a body of work for LA Louver’s Rogue Wave exhibition—on top of having resolved a slew of other personal and professional issues all within a week or two of another. I am completely floored. I literally had to jump out of a plane last Saturday and then go into a sensory deprivation tank just now in order to clear my system. I am reeling. (Continued on page 97)
Robert!!! Whatcha up to? I just got back from a much-needed vacation—first one in years. Been hanging out on the beach reading William Gibson short stories and drawing. Left with a clean slate, so I’m just starting on a few new projects now that I’m back. Feels good. How’s that Lexington life? Summer’s here, so ideally there will be plenty of breaks for drinking on the porch and swimming in creeks. Alright alright alright—so, this is awesome: a fine art career,
a commercial art career, Three Legged Race, Hair Police, Sick Hour—what else ya got? Not sure anything I’m doing is a career just yet—feels like it could all turn on a dime. I’m just happy to make any sort of living doing what I love to do. I’m always trying out something new… When did it all begin, for you? I’ve always had intentions and wanted to be an artist since I was a kid—whatever that means. I just took a roundabout way to get here. I’ve always done this stuff in some capacity and have always considered myself an artist before a musician. Touring in Hair Police playing noise music ended up being the gateway that allowed me to end up here. Meeting a lot of inspiring weirdos and freaks along the way showed me that you could do this your entire life. Like, I didn’t have to get some shitty job and suffer—I could do what I wanted and make it work. Lifers. Are you consciously creating, allowing things to become what they will or both? It’s definitely a little of both. I work pretty intuitively, but I also think about things for a long time before the pen ever touches the paper (or the cursor touches the artboard). I’ll think about an idea for months before I ever do any work on it—just kind of letting things stew around for a while in my head so they come out more developed. When is it experimentation until completion? I feel like some things I could work on forever and do endless variations—and you can see that in the recurring themes of my work. Like some things are just a different take on the same idea. A lot of it comes down to my being happy with it, as well as whoever I’m doing it for. I often find myself wanting to revisit things and change or add things to them, but I feel like it’s better to put what I’ve learned into something new. Plus, once the stuff is out there, there’s really no point in changing it. Does experimentation exude into all aspects of your life? I definitely try to approach things with an open mind, but it’s tough. I’m a pretty cynical person and I have turn that into positivity anyway I can, or else I’d just be miserable all the time. Like, make the best of it, or put that energy into something creative. I don’t know if that’s experimental per se, but I try to
do things my own way. When designing album artwork for a project you’re involved with, what level of importance is placed on cohesion? I definitely like things to fit together, but I also like there to be, at times, a sort of opposition of the elements. I love a good mess, but I very rarely go that direction when doing album art. It’s tough working on the computer to make things seem haphazard. How do you differentiate between the things you do? A lot of the work I do is commissioned for other people, so there’s that and then there’s the stuff I do for myself. But I feel like most of it all relates somehow. I do a lot of different things with lots of styles, but I think they all make sense together in some way. I don’t really take too much time to stop and think about it—I just move on to the next project. Do you even own an actual airbrush? Nope, I’ve never used one. This has been disappointing to some people, but when the end product you see is printed from a digital file anyhow, what does it matter? How often do you push for a departure from your current style? I try to do things differently as much as possible. I also draw a lot with just pen and paper, but most people don’t want that style for record covers, so I do that for myself. Hopefully there will be more of that out there soon… When do you benefit from working with outside direction? I enjoy taking other people’s ideas and bringing them to fruition. Sometimes it can be frustrating, but most of the time it’s rewarding in some way. How awesome was Astral Duets? It was an amazing experience. Latitude Artist Community does a lot of great work and I was psyched they asked me to do a project with them. I’d never really worked with people with “disabilities” before and it was amazing to collaborate with the artists there. Hopefully someday I’ll get around to turning all the recorded material from that project into something or other. Who is Ed Sunspot? Ed Sunspot is the mutant ambassador/pro-
ducer of Resonant Hole. His front tooth has been replaced with a pair of sunglasses and he spends a lot of time rescuing things from the garbage. He’s more like a janitor than a producer—cleaning things up to make them presentable.
Are you planning any new work with video? I’m always dabbling with video stuff—new things here and there. Ed has some things emerging from Resonant Hole soon. How about busting out on the video game tip!? I actually talked to my friend Takeshi Murata about trying this at some point. We’re both super busy and a video game seems like a ton of work, but I feel like there’s a lot of
potential there. I have a love/hate relationship with video games. I haven’t played them since I was a kid and I’m pretty sure I’d feel like I was wasting my time if I played them now, but they provided a lot of inspiration when I was younger. There’s something about creating a world and populating it with your own creations that’s very appealing… Sick Hour (Trevor Tremaine and myself) actually contributed some music to a video game Brian Gibson from Lightning Bolt has been working on for years—not sure it’s ever been finished. Weighing in on everything you’ve done, what’s given you the greatest sense of accomplishment? Hard to pick one thing, but the Three Legged Race Persuasive Barrier LP is definitely up there. It’s a very personal record and I spent several years on it, so it was just a good feeling to be done with it and be able to move on to something new.
Do you have any upcoming shows or exhibitions? Working on a few things, but nothing solid as far as exhibitions just yet. Definitely within the next year I plan on doing another installation—just need to figure out where. I’m doing some stuff at THE PROJECTS: A Festival of Experimental Comics and Narrative Art (http://theprojectspdx.tumblr.com/) in Portland in late August. Are you doing what you love? Yeah, I am—I just wish there were more hours in the day, or more of me. What’s next? I’m working on a book that will hopefully be out for Spring ’14. It will be all new stuff—still taking shape as to what direction it’s going right now…
(More Farrah) When creating an image, how often is it you’re also creating technique? Every time I work on something new, I carry over the bulk of my experience with photograms, shadows, performance and sculpture—but there are always new problems to solve. No two pictures ever solve the same problems, so no two pictures have quite the same technique. What significance is placed upon the scene and back-story within installations? It’s decontextualized. These are memories without narratives, without judgments, without contexts. It’s bodies on a field of color, bodies in space. I’m interested in what’s happening now, in the dark while I make it and in what happens next, when you see it on the wall. When a memory replays itself it becomes an entirely new event. How might seeing your work in person—with space and perspective—change my experience from that of sitting in front of a computer screen? I think it changes it totally. The work is designed for the body of a viewer standing in front of it and it loses out in jpeg form both on the level of close-up detail (because photograms are as detailed as are X-rays, since there’s no enlargement going on) and on the level of holistic use of space, scale and architecture. Some people’s work looks better in digital form and sometimes I appreciate the ability to photograph a piece from a perspective I want it seen, but usually jpegs of the work are a necessary evil. I prefer language to jpegs of my work. What type of exposures we
talking here? For the big ones, I usually have a 4x5 enlarger set up pointing at a wall about thirty feet away and my exposures are pretty quick, like a few seconds to keep it light and sharp with human subjects. I’ll usually double expose to get a second movement down. Sometimes, if it’s a really fast acting subject like smoke, or if it’s going down in black & white, I use a handheld flash. What are you just dying to try that you haven’t gotten around to yet? I want to get a portable darkroom truck going on and swoop around the continent picking up people’s lives and getting them on paper. Border fence skippers, front porch singers, people who still work with their bodies, plants and trees I’ve never known before—I want to know what I don’t know and get it all down before I die. What spawned your “Good Sign” installation? Stephen Zacks, the founder and executive director of the Flint Public Art Project, asked me and many other artists to propose something “…to inspire residents to reimagine the city, reclaim vacant and underutilized buildings and lots, and connect people, amplifying the local creative community.” I decided to find some abandoned signage in town to act as a sculptural armature for photograms. When I went to Flint to find the right structure, I also talked to a lot of people, hoping to find out what would constitute my imagery as well. One guy had worked on the auto line decades ago and, without me even telling him that I was interested in muscle
memory, he started miming the movements he had had to repeat on the line. I loved that and immediately wanted to honor that memory of his on my sign, but the producers of the project felt that Flint’s relationship to the auto industry is over-emphasized and wanted the public projects to look more to the future. So I was introduced to the Job Corps program in town and the creative willingness of the students in that program floored me. Four guys who were reinventing their lives by learning particular trades (painting, bricklaying, etc.) came to the darkroom of a local Photography Professor, Darryl Baird and I photogrammed them in their harnesses and hardhats. They helped me process the photographs, then I shaped these photograms to the sign structure. I’m pleased to say that I feel like the end result honors these kids’ contributions to their city. Anymore outdoorsys on the way? I’m participating in Shangrila in Joshua Tree on Labor Day weekend. I hope to use the opportunity to burn a giant labyrinth into the ground, so that people can walk through a picture. And what spawned this work with the stuff of war? Similar to the process behind “Good Sign”, I was dealing with the muscle memory of a veteran of the US Navy. He was a student of mine in a photography class at Otis College and I told him about the two variables that are important to me: a relationship to an architecture and a physical relationship between people that naturally composes their bodies
into a shape. He thought of the act of stacking a door, where soldiers line up next to a door, holding one another’s shoulders so that they can communicate by squeezing, before they breach the doorway and clear the room. I liked the idea of working with him and other veterans he knew to reenact this muscle memory, so I found out from him what kind of weapons and gear they used. Then, I spent quite a while casting the weapons (a HK416 and a SIG P226) in resin, so that they would be clear and take the light nicely in the photogram process. LA Louver, a gallery in Venice, CA asked me to contribute the piece to their ’13 Rogue Wave show, so I designed the photograms to hang as if the silhouettes of the vets were stacked up on the doorway to the very exhibition. It’s as if they’re invading the gallery. What do you see differently when going back through your work? In the short run, you focus on particular motivations. But in the long run, certain motivations and certain effects repeat themselves and those repeated things braid together to make thick threads you can follow with more and more trust. Does your audience see what you’re showing them? Part of me thinks that it takes a retrospective for people to ever really see what any artist has been up to in even one work. I saw an Eva Hesse retrospective at SFMOMA once and I walked from room to room seeing what she had learned, tested and learned again from piece to piece and year to year. It was amazing. At the same time, if I
had seen one piece on its own, or even a show of work from one year of her life, I could only have understood part of what she was able to show me in her retrospective. If people take enough time with one of my pieces, sure, they can note all the marks of my process, read those alongside the imagery, focus on how the piece is situated in space and how their bodies feel with respect to all of these variables. In isolation, though, even that kind of considered experience is not enough to know what I hope to articulate—for myself, even— over a longer period of time. What have you learned of yourself throughout your career? I have learned that the only genuine career is the one where you’re learning of yourself and exchanging with others. So I try to pay attention to what I am doing and which new questions that process begs: do I need to write, or curate, or teach, or make artwork, or research or go out and live? How do I take the next step to learn more and how does this next step want to be learned? How can I exchange what I am learning with other people and make the best of their lives as well? There are some dead ends, but they usually get picked up later, so the best advice I can give to myself is, “Wait for it…” But in the meantime, I’ll keep my ear to the ground, try not to be suspicious of my instincts and work hard. Is there really such a thing as an “accident”? I believe that all accidents can be productive if you notice them and use the right ones to your advantage. What do you remember of
dreams? Off the top of my head, I remember three dreams from my life: two from childhood and one from early adulthood. They all involve moving bodies, but the bodies are different and the movements and contexts are different. The first was a slightly frightening dream of the interior of a low ceilinged home—people’s bodies were situated in fireplaces and, featureless and squatting, they moved as if in dance. The second was a slightly powerful dream of a grassy landscape with a tiger moving through it, stalking. The third was a dream in which I felt very very happy and a tiny horse, the size of a cat, was scampering about a domestic floor. Do you have any upcoming shows or exhibitions? My work’s currently on view in Flint, at the Triennial in Orange County and at the Rogue Wave show at LA Louver. After that, there’s the fun group show in Joshua Tree and then everything else is more long term: a ’14 show in Puebla, Mexico, a couple of curatorial projects, plus I’m working on a book of my work. And I’m also still writing this blog, Housing Projects, about “the house” in and as contemporary art. Plus I teach a couple classes in the fall at Otis College of Art & Design. Are you doing what you love? I am. With all the mixed emotions, occasional boredoms and frustrations that come with that. What’s next? Today? I shower... Any shout-outs? To my mother and father, who are my eternal motivation and from whom my strength derives.