HILLYER

WORLD OF THE SENSES: ARTIST Q&A WITH LINA ALATTAR

Your new body of work explores identity, and how the surrounding world effects this self-exploration. Why do you think it is important to explore these deeper themes through art?

Art, to me, explores the deeper themes of our lives. It makes our experiences richer and deeper and in doing so, nourishes us on a deeper level.  It is through the process of art-making that we reach a certain balance.

You also place a clear emphasis on the natural world. What place or landscape most inspires you?

A walk in the woods, the sound of the sea, or best of all, tending to my vegetable garden are experiences that I bring into my studio.  I would say, the simple beauty and rhythm of nature is what I seek in my life and in my art.  My travels and living abroad has afforded me the memories of diverse landscape.  I notice the settle changes in color, light, sunsets, the world of the senses.

Why do you think paint is the best medium to explore both these themes and the paradoxes of landscapes?

It’s the best medium for me at this point in my career.  The lush quality of the paint allows me to express myself on the canvas and create emotive extremes. It also lends itself to a visual vocabulary what carries the purity of the moment. For me, it has the ability to make the invisible revealed.

Did you have any artists that have inspired your work – both a teacher of yours or a well-known artist that has influenced your work?

Richard Diebenkorn is one such artist. His work has influenced mine in some mysterious ways.  I’m intrigued by how he uses paint in such a semantic way, really stretches the boundaries.

INTUITION AND CREATION: Q&A WITH NICOLE FALL

Your mom is also an artist, through both you and your mother’s experiences in the DC art scene, what major shifts or changes have you observed?

Growing up with my mother, artist Dorothy Fall, I was exposed to the DC art scene from the 1960s onward ( my childhood). I would be taken to DC museums and art galleries as well as meeting artists socially in a variety of settings. I remember as a child meeting Lois Maillou Jones at Howard University (my father taught there) and Sam Gilliam because my mother had an Artists Equity meeting at our house.

I remember participating in a “Happening” at the Art Barn ( in Rock Creek Park) where artists did goofy participatory work. My mom made an edible painting. Others made a giant ice cream sundae and we laid down on a treated canvas to make a giant photogram.

I’d say the scene was focused on Dupont Circle and then also 7th and G streets . Nowadays the DC scene exists in a number of different places all over the city. I’m guessing that that has something to do with the price of real estate as galleries move away from the center of the city. I have lived in the Baltimore area all my adult life ( though I was represented by Gallery K in DC for about 20 years) so I do not have a clear idea about the DC art scene now. It has always been robust and seems to be more so now.

Do you believe that your unique world view has increased or affected your exploration of human relationships in your work?

As human beings our world view plays out in whatever we do, we are each unique. Absolutely my worldview, that there is great trauma in the human condition but also great hope, is reflected in my work. It is not a deliberate effort. Making the work is a combination of responding intuitively to the material along with aesthetic decision making and the flow that comes from much thought, research, and just plain living one’s life.

What inspired you to explore the relationship between humans and nature?

I found in undergraduate school at MICA that I was very interested in natural form and as a ceramics major, clay lent itself to that organic imagery-making. It wasn’t until I was about 10 years into this form of working that I realized that I was considering forces in our lives and relationships. My process of working is also a relationship with the media and the process. I negotiate with the material to make something, I am open to learning from the material and what it naturally wants to do. Sometimes I set up situations knowing that the material will surprise me. For example casting something solid in bronze which can morph the original form because of uneven thickness, thus uneven cooling. Or finding frozen clay in my studio (the studio was unheated) and working with the shale like pieces it fell apart into when it defrosted.

How has experience in a variety of media influenced how you implemented steel and clay in recent pieces?

This show represents about 3 years worth of working. I work in welded steel, clay, and cast bronze so I shift back and forth between the three. It naturally occurs( after years of working this way)  that I work in a combination of media. I know which characteristics I get from each of the media. It is intentional too the play between what is considered a fragile medium (clay) and  what is considered a very strong one ( steel).  I am  working with fabric and steel this time. I have worked with fabric doing costumes and props for theatre but have never used it in my own work before.

You and your husband are both artists and share a studio. Does your work influence one another’s others work or do you ever collaborate on projects?

I think we have influenced each others work in terms of an interest in nature but our work processes are completely different. Blake (Conroy)’s work process is very deliberate and planned out. He now does laser cut drawings that are incredibly intricate and take months worth of preparation drawing into the computer. Before that he would hand cut drawings in brass with a jeweler’s saw (which has a quarter inch wide blade). I work completely intuitively. He does do the physical casting of my bronze work ( as he works at New Arts Foundry in Baltimore) . I act as his assistant when he is installing work. We also seek each others’ input on our work, not that we listen.

Our adult children are artists too. Our son, Blake Fall-Conroy is a self-taught engineer (for International Climbing Machines) and a conceptual artist whose Minimum Wage Machine has been shown in DC. Our daughter Lisette Fall-Conroy is a designer for the group Fictiv in San Francisco.

BRANCHES OF WORK: ARTIST Q&A WITH MARC ROBARGE

In discussing your recent work on your website, you note that the pieces are focused on two directions, one discussing life and death and the other commenting on cultural, societal, and environmental issues. What message do you hope people will take away when viewing these two themes together?

Yes, recently, my work took a new direction that incorporates mass produced, machined, or technological elements with the organic forms that have been the foundation of my sculptural vocabulary for years.  I am at a point where both directions offer fertile possibilities for exploration and development, and both are rooted in a reverence for nature, so there is definitely common ground between them. During recent studio visits, viewers have responded strongly to both branches of work, and seem to appreciate the strong affirmation of the natural world in each. Some respond to the otherworldly quality of the biomorphic forms and others resonate with the pieces incorporating manmade objects.  In some ways, maybe it depends on whether you are a dreamer or a pragmatist.

Also in your artist statement you “nod to the surrealists.” Which artists in particular inspired these recent works?

My nod to the surrealists is more conceptual than paying homage to any particular artist. Andre Breton’s surrealist manifesto talks about the importance of dreaming, and the rejection of pure reason as the ultimate way of knowing, I subscribe to the idea that there are many ways of knowing including imagination, intuition, somatic experience and the poetic expression of the unconscious. Breton also speaks of “two distant realities” united to create a new one; that concept informs the new work that lyrically combines mass produced everyday objects with organic forms to address contemporary issues. I also employ some surrealist tropes, such as taking ordinary items and placing them in a completely new, illogical, incongruous or unexpected context, yet in a way that somehow achieves a harmony between the parts.

What drew you to sculpture work, and how did you grow your skill in this medium?

Sculpture speaks to me in a spatial, visual, textural, and visceral way that resonates deeply in my bones. The various skills I’ve developed are an amalgamation of experiences, such as working in the wood shop as a boy, going to art school, working with various construction materials, and cross pollinating these techniques experimentally. The sculptures are composed of items I’ve collected, and often they relate to proportions of human anatomy. I love the process of making forms with my hands, manipulating the materials and considering how they relate to one another, the eyes, the heart and the gut. I’m communicating through channels of feeling and empathy with the media and listen to how my body responds to what I’m making. Hopefully, the work engages the viewer in a variety of modes, spatially, visually, emotively, intellectually, and physically.

You teach high school art, do you think your work is ever informed by the projects you give your students?

I teach a variety of art subjects and media in my high school faculty position, including entry level art, photography, and the International Baccalaureate upper level course. The discussions I have with my students are meant to be illuminating for them (at least that is the goal), but they are often illuminating for me as well. In addition to skills, techniques and principles of art, we talk about the creative process, what is important to them, events of the day, and how they can best express their concepts or opinions in visual terms. I get a window into their world, we share perspectives, and often the spark that is kindled ignites my fire as well as theirs. As Yeats said, “Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire.”

STRIPPED ELEMENTS: ARTIST Q&A WITH ALEX PORTER

You mention in your artist statement that you want the viewer to create their own emphasis out of the pieces. What drew you to wanting this more interactive and interpretive response?

My impression has always been that the experience of seeing the landscape varies from person to person, and that there are many ways of seeing which are not frequently represented in traditional painting. Instead of using light and color to guide the viewer’s eye around an illusion of scenery, I want to include them in the process of creating an image that points to elements of the landscape.

How did your technique develop over the course of your work? What were the challenges of deviating from traditional landscapes?

I spent a long time doing more traditional landscape images in various forms, though I’ve always gravitated toward water media, specifically watercolor and ink wash. Being able to depict the detail of landscape became of great importance to me, and this is the manner of painting/drawing that best suited the level of detail I wanted. I found that many aspects of traditional landscape paintings (including ones I thoroughly enjoy) had to be removed from my process. The challenge was in determining what had to be eliminated so that I could show what I was seeing.

Some of your pieces feature fuller tree form landscapes, while others are more close up pieces. What impact on your portfolio do you believe this range has?

When you strip down your elements for making an image, creating a composition becomes like a math problem. There are hard limitations for what happens to the space if you aren’t using perspective depth or color. This becomes especially true if your only two values are black and white. My task becomes placing the lines that create the boundaries of my image, crafting it like an object rather than a scene. The different ways of placing lines represent different ways of looking at the subject, which in turn affects the tone of each piece. I’m interested in the gestures of natural forms as a language. This structure allows me to make drawings that are unified thematically, while letting each piece have its own say.

Do you have any habits that are important to your studio practice – such as do you need silence to concentrate, or do you always listen to a certain type of music, etc?

My studio habits are all over the place. I work at many different times of day (and often night). Sometimes I’ll anguish over making a single mark, and other times I’ll put down lines continuously for hours. When I have a delicate task, I may want it to be silent, but if I need to do a lot of repetitive mark-making to move a drawing along I usually want some background noise. The noise I’m in the mood for can be anything from Charlie Rose to melodic death metal.

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.