Zimmer Nr. 3: Interruption
Zimmer Nr. 3: Interruption addresses my personal working conditions as an artist, specially the interruptions and daily influences that hinder a continuous, and concentrated work. It is an ongoing process, is constantly in change, and the paintings are conceptualized to be shown in their various working stages.
The central part of the installation is a carpet to sit, to lie down, and to perceive the space from different perspectives. Several paintings, spread throughout the room, are provisional leaned against and partly hanged on the walls. These paintings are symbolizing my body, and are meant to be moved and rearranged by the audience. Their formats are based on my own body measurements. I incorporate things from my physical and mental work process, texts, sketches, images, links, etc. Several pillows with printed excerpts of them are scattered across the floor. Here, I am thinking the carpet and the pillows as an environment that allows to calm down in order to make space and time for gathering thoughts, assimilating, relaxing and developing ideas.
The first exhibition took place in my studio in Berlin in 2017. Here it was important for me to use my working environment, the studio itself, as a starting point. During the exhibition period, I have conducted various conversations about the work, which I incorporated into the ongoing painting process. It is important to me to visualize a structure of non-visual artistic work, which moves on but also has moments of arrival for me as an artist, as well as for the viewer.
Zimmer Nr. 3: Interruption,
Studio, Berlin 2017
How can I enhance the provisional potential of the painting?
Formats that are easy to carry and have little weight. Lose canvases. Motives are sketchy. Motives are only fragmentary, distorted, stretched, washed out. Showing the backs of the canvases. Motifs suggest bodies and body fragments. Using personal fragments from sketchbooks, talks, e-mail conversations, phone calls as text elements within the painting. Creating paintings that seem to be constantly changing. Paintings, which enhances the qualities of their own physicality.
…like human bodies. Paintings, that appropriates qualities of the human body.
Aus: Zimmer Nr. 3 (We Can Ignore It It),
The Hotel 91, New York City 2016
The unromantic truth is that being an artist in any field is hard work. Because artists need a lot of time alone in order to create, they wrestle with loneliness and insecurity. They face continual self- doubt, as well as the criticism of others. Many artists work with no financial safety net or healthcare. Those wo do have some financial stability often work day jobs that drain precious time and energy from their creative work.
Even for artists who make a living from their art, there is the constant tug-of-war between the need to make new work, which requires quiet and solitude, and the need to promote, sell, and manage the business side of being an artist. And all of this must be done while paying the bills, nurturing friendships, family, and relationships, doing the chores, and getting the kids to school on time.
The challenges vary, but all working artists, regardless of their struggles and their financial or critical success, share one thing in common. They make art. They sit at their desks and write. They draw. They paint. They compose music. They shoot images. They perform. They create.
This is the single most important piece of advice I could give a young artist or anyone who is trying to realize a creative project. Do. Play. Explore. For a short time every day, forget about the chores, your personal goals, your email, your upcoming travel plans, and your career trajectory. Forget about what is appropriate or fashionable – about what your mother, friends, or the public will think of your work. [...]
Making space and time to create without interruption is difficult but essential. Our competitive culture rarely rewards stillness and imagination. From childhood, we are programmed to stop day dreaming and told to be constructive and busy instead.
But great art can come only from deep, focused attention – attention combined with the discipline of doing. In order to make our best work, „doing“ must take place in a favorable environment – one that allows to block extraneous interruptions and calm our own mental chatter. [...]
For an artist, quality community can be just as important as quality solitude. Being a writer, painter, performer, composer, filmmaker, etc. is hard enough without the burden of isolation.
We need like-minded people around us who understand who we are what we value. We need honest, but understanding critics; we need friends who will push us, engage with us, challenge our ideas, and support us when things become difficult. We also need to know that we're not alone in these struggles.
This kind of community comes in many forms – through graduate school, artist residencies, writing groups, workshops, conferences, mentorships, and personal friendships. Community also develops when we actively participate. I'm a big believer in showing up and supporting the work of other artists. While I enjoy the solitary experience of reading and listening to music, there is no substitute for the expansive, communal act of going to readings, performances, film festivals, and galleries. Supporting other artists through Kickstarter and other fundraising platforms is another way of participating and offering valuable encouragement to our peers.
Michelle Aldredge, Sol LeWitt's Advice to Eva Hesse: Don't Worry About Cool, Make Your Own Uncool