Artist Highlight

Newly Selected Artists, July 2022

Gabrielle Lajoie-Bergeron

Mascha-Le Gros Party

 

Mascha – Le gros Party questions the notion of celebration in the intimate, public, and political space. Highlighting evocative traces of a past event, this vivid new corpus allows us to imagine a universe in itself. Inspired by the figure of the “mascha” — the etymological root of the word “mask,” also meaning witch in Low Latin — the exhibition marshals a vast diversity of works, including a number of faux-visages (false faces) made of various materials. “Le gros party” is a French expression meaning, in common parlance, “the big party.” Inspired by festivities and their rituals, the project questions notions of overflow and excess, and the flashpoint at which fiction and reality overlap. It is about identity, power, and relationships. If the party makes it possible to become someone else — to live a rite of passage — what happens when the event overflows beyond the dancing, the singing, the feast, and the simple drinking? The big party invoked by Lajoie-Bergeron refers to the capricious masquerade that we offer in our time, when the celebration begins to lose its glamor and to lurch into incipient violence and other abuses.

Kate Fitzpatrick

There is no anagram for the word anagram 

An anagram is a word formed by rearranging the letters of a different word, using all the letters. Any word that exactly uses those letters in another order is called an anagram. Whether as a literary game, cipher, mysterious verse, or poetry, anagrams provide a channel for making new meaning out of fixed ideas. Anagrams are anchored to their assigned positions and are limited due to their language rules, which are based on a collectively agreed-upon system.

There is no anagram for the word anagram playfully explores the idea of language and meaning by using an imaginary sign system to take the form of text, images, and objects, to break down the construction of our own arbitrary reality. The graphic potential of a sign invites the viewer to consider the possibilities that exist in arrangements that fill in the gap between image and text to explore meaning. In this exhibition, paintings, games, video, and objects offer a dynamic by which to wonder and to create personal meaning through indecipherable signs, which become a vessel for schema and a pathway to search and interpret.

Kristin Adair

Unconditional

Unconditional is a multimedia exploration of the legacy of love that we carry within us as human beings. We are the accumulation of the relationships that came before us, that brought us into the world. Through the pandemic, I have investigated my love map through the lens of a box of letters my grandfather wrote to my grandmother while he was stationed in the South Pacific for three years during World War II. I weave a tapestry of images in both paper and video form, including archival images that my grandfather made during his deployment and other found materials, with visual explorations of my own body, examining the experience during the two years of the pandemic of isolation and my own search for connection and true love. The series Unconditional uses both physical and digital manipulation to combine old and new photographs with archival and new audio, weaving stories of the past — those that live inside of me, the present, and the future of my own latent lineage.

Drift: Q & A with Carrie Fucile

Carrie Fucile is an intermedia artist focused on sound, sculpture, installation, and performance.
She has exhibited and performed at numerous venues in the United States and abroad including The Walters
Art Museum, The Red Room, the (e)merge Art Fair, Vox Populi, VMK – Gönczi Gallery, and Casa Contemporânea.
Recent honors include a 2016 Maryland State Arts Council Individual Artist Award and a 2015
D’CLINIC residency in Hungary. Her recordings are released through Ehse Records and Protagonist Music.
Fucile lives and works in Baltimore, Maryland and is a Lecturer at Towson University.

carriefucile.net

Sound is integral to your artwork. Can you tell us how you began to discover sound as a medium to incorporate in your work? What are some of the challenges of working with sound?

As a young person, I was trained classically as a pianist and a vocalist. I first became aware of alternative modes of music-making in high school, when I was introduced to 20th century composers such as Samuel Barber and John Cage. Seeing and hearing a prepared piano was likely the source of my enthusiasm for sound. Later, when I was living in New York in my early 20s, I started to witness “sound art” at various museums and galleries. I very distinctly remember sitting in the dark at the Whitney Museum, wowed by a Maryanne Amacher piece. Later, in graduate school, I began making videos, and people often commented on the strength of the sound. I became drawn to professors, courses, and venues that emphasized sound art and experimental music. This was the jumping off point for my subsequent work. In retrospect, it seems natural that, as both a visual and musical person, sound became the focus of my creative output.

Sound can be challenging because things can go wrong. Therefore, anytime I do a performance or an exhibition, there is a chance something might not work or that things could break down. I have learned to expect these setbacks, but it does not make me any less anxious!

How do you relate to improvisation in your work?

Improvisation factors into my performance work. I always have a structure for what I will do, but I allow room for improvisation so that things are fresh, exciting, and interesting.

Can you guide us through your creative process? Are there other artists (visual, musicians, writers, etc.) that influence your work?

My creative process involves a lot of thinking and then an “a-ha!” moment where I realize something I want to try out. I then go make it or propose it and make it. Usually there is a part of the work that I have no idea how to do, and I end up teaching myself how to execute it. I think that it is really important that I consistently learn new things.

I have been influenced by countless artists through the years. Currently, I am very inspired by the work of Gianni Colombo, Rolf Julius, and the writing of Hito Steyerl.

In “Drift” you are dealing with a lot of big issues—territorial and bodily boundaries, political upheaval, and global capital. How do you bring all of these topics together? Is it important for you that the viewer understand the background and intent of each piece while they experience it?

As an artist, I posit myself as an outside observer who makes connections. I see certain patterns that exist and I explore them. It is great if the viewer gets my intentions, but not necessary. Once the work is out there, it is up for grabs and I am always thrilled to hear other interpretations.

How has Baltimore’s art scene influenced your work?

Baltimore’s art scene has always allowed me to be myself. I am very grateful for such an inspiring, open-minded, and supportive community. People here are interested in making art for art’s sake and engaging with each other. I love how there is always a welcoming venue for a project. People are genuinely excited to share work and foster a dialogue.

Lines, Folds, Bends, and Matter: Q & A with Anne Smith

Anne Smith is a visual artist and teacher in Washington, DC. Her art practice
spans disciplines of drawing, sculpture and printmaking to study variations on boundaries, paths, and
divisions of space. Her subject matter has included her childhood home, the side of the road, and other
spaces entirely made up or imagined.

Smith is also a teaching artist at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC, and has taught drawing at
George Mason University in Fairfax, VA. She has been an assistant to artist Lou Stovall since 2010, where
she has assisted with framing, art installation, silkscreening, writing and a variety of other jobs around the
studio and the DC area.

Your works in To Bend / To Fold focus heavily on the use of black, which seems like a heavy contrast to your more colorful Potomac Prints series. How did you arrive at this mostly monochrome body of work?

For some reason, I have tended to make dense images (that is, with lots of material) for quite a while now. The first drawing I ever did that involved a really dense application of graphite was in 2005, and although the subject matter was very different, it took on this reflective quality with light, setting up a situation in which the image would change depending the viewer’s relationship to it and the light. So, I was hooked then on that interest in light reflection as well as density, and eventually have found myself in the place where I am now—making these charcoal and graphite drawings.

But, I don’t like to work on the same thing for too long! Sometimes I need a break, which is how I might end up making something really light and colorful, like the Potomac Prints series. Even though the bodies of work might look very different, often I find myself circling the same big ideas, just from another perspective.

What is drawing to you? How do you personally define a drawing?

Drawing comes back to the extension of a line. That line has the potential to exist in more than one way – it is first a deposit (or removal) of material on or into a surface, but it can also convince our minds to read more into it, like a line that becomes a road or a house or a shadow. So the line is both the thing itself and (in some cases) the image of a thing.

I think of my linear sculptures and some of my etchings as drawings, too. This has to do with the directness of the processes—working directly into material—as well as the linearity and plasticity/changeability of the materials. Conversely, I often imagine the structures in my drawings as objects, though I would only ever call these drawings. Printmaking can feel downright sculptural, too!

You seem to be inclined to minimalist structures and your works seem to allude to Richard Serra and other modernist heavyweights. Do you consider your work a continuation of the minimalist tradition or is it totally new to you? What other artists or artforms inspire you?

It’s true that in this series of work, I am trying to use as few lines as possible to create a complex structure, but at the same time, I’m doing this with an excess of material (lots of charcoal, or even in the quantity of loose lines that hum in the background of the images). When I’m working, the goal is to follow my own line of curiosity and questioning—if I find myself comparing my work to others’ or thinking too far down the line of how the piece will end up, I know right away that I’m not in the right place for making. What I strive for is to be in a state of making in which I’m trusting my hand and my process and my instincts to lead me to a place I cannot yet imagine.

I do like Richard Serra’s work, and people do make that association sometimes. But I find that I most connect with others whose working values and ways of approaching questions seem like my own, for example Martin Puryear or Janine Antoni. There are also several people locally or from other places I’ve worked and studied who have had huge impact on me. Talking to them is like a breath of fresh air and always resets me whenever I feel lost in the studio.

How do you go about getting ideas? Do you keep a sketchbook? How do you go from idea to final piece?

Ideas come from working! My sketchbook is mostly filled with writing and notes, or with line drawings when I am trying to work out a specific form. I also love taking walks and using my phone to photograph things that pique my interest. When I can, I print these out and tape them into a sketchbook for just this purpose—I like having them in physical form where I can flip through the pages, rather than taking the photo and then never looking at it again. So, walking and looking are forms of work as well.

Of course, there’s no substitute for just working with your materials, encountering problems, and working out solutions. Most of my ideas come not from planning or “brainstorming” but from being there in the moment working on a piece, paying attention as much as possible to where it wants to go. I don’t ever want to fully understand a piece before I’ve finished it (and maybe not for a long time after that). Otherwise, it’s not an interesting idea to me anymore.

You said that sculpture was going to be your next step. How do you see yourself approaching the concept of space with a 3D medium in the future?

I want to spend more time working sculpturally because I’ve always started with the drawing on paper and then moved to sculpture. I want to flip that around, or at least see where it takes me to start by working in three dimensions. In the latest sculpture that I have in the show, Reach, I use plexiglass for the first time and I’ve got a lot more to discover about working with that material. There are other materials that I’ve been attracted to for a while that I haven’t quite gotten myself to engage with physically yet—things like gravel, brick, roofing shingles and other materials more associated with building. I love working with wood, but I’d like to expand my vocabulary and see what happens.

Ubiquitous Imagery: Q & A with Sarah Jamison

Sarah Jamison’s series, Ubiquitous Imagery, is inspired by the amount of time people spend absorbing images on their digital devices. Each piece is a tribute to scrolling through apps, a testament to the fact that through our perpetual media engagement, there is a universal visual language, where everything from cat videos to Kim Kardashian’s  “Breaking the Internet” is immediately understood. Born out of her own revulsion for and dependence on her phone, Sarah seeks to reorganize and reinterpret these digital images, laboring in traditional fine art media to depict the absurdity of our fascination and consumption.

Originally from small town Virginia, Sarah moved to Washington, DC in 2006 to attend the Corcoran College of Art + Design, where she received her Bachelor of Fine Arts in 2010. Sarah finds the act of careful rendering both meditative and motivating; she delights in the level of control and precision offered by colored pencil. Sarah is inspired by color, media culture, and whimsy.

sarah-jamison.com

Having a body of work that pulls all sorts of humorous internet icons and languages together, what do you think is the role of humor and satire in contemporary art?

Humor and satire, to me, are important vehicles to deliver a point, in contemporary art and otherwise. I believe when something is funny or fun, you capture people’s attention—it is the perfect segue to deliver your ideas to an open and receptive audience. In Ubiquitous, I wanted my drawings to have recognizable, comedic elements, but I equally wanted to discuss the darker parts of digital culture—how unkind, obsessive, vapid and disturbing it can be. The internet, as a space for conversation, can be heated, contentious and divisive. Humor is important because it helps to poke at the absurdities of the internet in an accessible way, and hopefully, allow us to relate to it in a way that is more light-hearted and reflective.

How did you find that colored pencils, markers, and gouache were your material of choice for your work? How do they conceptually fit into the ideas you want to portray?

For this series I wanted to use traditional fine art media and specifically chose mediums, particularly marker and colored pencil, that any viewer would be familiar with and likely have used themselves. In doing this, I hoped to reinforce the concept of relatability and common experience. Additionally, my intention in “Ubiquitous” was to create juxtaposition between pop culture or lowbrow imagery and established, time-honored technique. In choosing highly rendered drawing, I intended to elevate imagery that is typically associated with impermanence to the strata of art history. I have a deep love for drawing and my hope was that even if people didn’t understand the references in my works, they could appreciate the artistry.

How do you go about getting ideas for your work? Can you go into a little detail about your process of going from research to idea to rough sketch to a final piece?

Like anyone, I interact with digital media every day. I find my inspiration when I am thinking consciously about the images and language that exists on the web pages, social media apps, comment threads, or wherever I may be on the internet. I am always on the lookout for notorious and iconic images and when I see something that resonates with me, I save it to a digital folder so I can use it to compose “sketches” for my drawings in Photoshop. Often, I start the creation process with a specific concept in mind and know exactly what I want my piece to look like, but sometimes it evolves through experimentation. I use Photoshop because it allows me to immediately edit and refine my drawings before I ever touch pencil to paper. Once I am happy with my design, it is used as a reference for my actual drawing. My process begins with a base layer of marker and the rest is rendered primarily in colored pencil with white and light values reinforced with gouache.

You were educated and have begun your art career here in DC. Do you think that living in this particular city has played a part in influencing your work?

Living in DC has absolutely influenced my work. The accessibility to museums, galleries and fellow artists has had a profound effect on me. DC offers countless opportunities to learn from, research and be inspired by the creativity of others. Specifically, DC public transportation has helped influence my current body of work. Over the years riding on Metro, I’ve watched people glued to their cell phones, filling every quiet moment with constant stimulation. Noticing this reliance on digital culture in others helped me to notice it in myself—which ultimately acted as a catalyst for this series.

What do you think is the next step in your body of work?

In general, I am still thinking about my next steps. I am interested in exploring the lifecycle of digital content as something akin to contemporary artifacts. Social Media and digital content is both fleeting in its relevance, but also seemingly permanent—the internet is an immediate archive. How we interact with these extreme timelines is, to me, compelling. I am so fascinated by our collective digital experiences that I plan to continue to explore and evolve these themes in my artwork.

CHEE-KEONG KUNG: ADJACENT AMPLITUDES

Chee-Keong Kung - Adjacent Amplitudes Chee-Keong Kung begins each piece with the intention to capture the spontaneity and immediacy of the painting process. Washes, brush strokes, or lines are laid down as stimuli for subsequent moves. Kung responds...

Chee-Keong Kung begins each piece with the intention to capture the spontaneity and immediacy of the painting process. Washes, brush strokes, or lines are laid down as stimuli for subsequent moves. Kung responds to surface qualities, material characteristics, and the activity of mark-making in developing the work. Accidental drips, smears and fingerprints become impetuses for further moves and are integral components of the evolving composition.