|
The
following
interview
was
conducted
by email
in
December
2005
between
Lisa Gray
and Ken
DeRoux,
Curator of
Museum
Services
at the
Alaska
State
Museum.
KDR: You
come to
this new
work from
a
background
in
photography,
and, in
fact, are
one of the
few Alaska
fine art
photographers
with
outside
gallery
representation.
How long
have you
worked in
photography;
where did
you spend
your
formative
years; and
what
brought
you to
Alaska?
Do you
have an
art
background
outside of
photography?
LG: I
believe
most
people do
not enter
the realm
of serious
art making
as an
intentional
strategy
or career
move, but
more
likely
didn’t see
it coming
because
they
either
stumbled
over it or
were
nudged
along by
someone
else. I
have vague
recollections
of my
first
foray into
art. All I
remember
is the
feeling it
was one of
the few
things
that
didn’t
eventually
disappointment
me in this
life. My
beginnings
in
photography
span
almost 30
years now.
I came to
Alaska in
1984 after
growing up
on a farm
in the
Willamette
Valley of
Oregon.
KDR: How
do you see
the
relationship
between
your
current
digital
collage
work and
your
earlier
photographic
work, both
in terms
of content
and also
from a
formal
aspect?
LG: I came
to the
field of
digital
computer
work from
optical
photography
for a
number of
reasons.
For over
ten years,
I had been
creating
30x40 inch
platinum
photographs
that
required
30x40 inch
negatives.
The sheer
strength
it took to
make those
pieces was
daunting
and
eventually
it became
physically
impossible
for me to
continue
the
venture. I
had also
been
wanting to
investigate
the use of
color in
my work,
which up
until
recently
was
strictly
black and
white. I
don’t see
the
emotional
content of
my newer
work as
having
changed
dramatically
from my
previous
photographic
work. I
believe
there are
a few
changes
that are
at least
to some
degree
driven by
forces
inherent
in the
field of
digital
imagery.
My
previous
work was
partial to
the figure
and it’s
relationship
with
nature
while I
feel the
new work
opens up
more
inquiries
into
social
dilemmas
and
cultural
pressures
as they
manifest
themselves
on and in
the human
form. The
digital
process
has
allowed me
to
integrate
more
divergent
materials
into the
imagery.
For
example, I
have
integrated
fashionable
clothing
into my
female
portraits,
which has
opened up
a dialogue
on
identity
politics
and the
Gaze (how
we fit
into our
society
according
to the
nonverbal
signs of
others). I
am not a
big fan of
feminist
theory,
but guess
what? Here
I am.
Content
follows
process
and
process
follows
content. I
have
learned to
let my
work grow
and mature
on its own
and, as it
develops,
not to go
looking
for
something
specific,
but simply
go
looking.
KDR: Where
do you get
your raw
material?
Do you
work from
scans?
From the
Internet?
Could you
briefly
describe
your
working
process?
LG: Most
of my raw
material
comes from
books I
scan
directly
into the
computer.
I scan
pictures
of
sculpture,
painting,
and
photographs
of dolls,
clothing,
anatomy
and nature
just to
name but a
few. I
photoshop
the hell
out of
these
scans.
They are
layered,
blurred,
rendered
with
lighting,
erased,
cloned;
those
marching
ants are
always on
the job.
Creating
art in
this
manner
isn’t any
different
than
sitting
down and
trying to
rub two
sticks
together
to start a
fire - you
know going
into it
that the
chances of
success
are slim,
but if you
can just
capture
that
spark...
KDR: What
have you
found to
be the
advantages
and
disadvantages
of working
with the
digital
print
process?
LG: The
biggest
change in
switching
over to
working
digitally
has been
speed. Not
just the
speed of
performing
a
technical
task but
the speed
of the
creative
process.
The
computer
does a
much
better job
keeping up
with the
human
brain than
any other
art
medium.
Normally,
if you
have an
idea, it
might take
days to
execute
it; and in
the
meantime,
how many
thousands
of other
ideas and
connections
have been
missed?
With the
computer
you
execute
the idea
quickly,
which can
trigger
the next
idea in
the
creative
process,
and on and
on.
Ironically,
it's a
much more
organic
process
because
you're
working
with a
tool
that's
quick and
flexible
much like
the human
mind. The
computer
can keep
up with
your ideas
as fast as
you get
them; the
problem is
not all my
ideas are
good ones.
KDR: Your
approach,
which I
think you
call
digital
collage,
seems
perhaps to
be carving
out a new
medium.
It’s not
photography,
although
it
involves
aspects of
photography.
It most
resembles
painting
from a
distance,
but it
clearly
isn’t. It
would seem
to be a
version of
printmaking;
(which is
reinforced
by the
fact that
the works
are
offered in
editions
of three).
And of
course
there’s
that lack
of
materiality;
it’s
coming
from a
computer.
There’s no
negative,
no plate.
Do you
have any
comments?
LG:
Excellent
question.
I like to
leave a
little bit
of the
unattainable
in my
work, that
illusionary
quality.
In today’s
postmodern
society
we’ve
dissolved
boundaries
and
borrowed
ideas.
Differences
have
become
less
distinct.
Many
critics
today
pontificate
about our
media-saturated
society
and how,
because
nothing is
original
anymore,
the only
clear
choice
left to us
is a kind
of image
cannibalization
of what
already
exists - a
simulacrum
(a copy
for which
there is
no
original).
It’s no
wonder my
work looks
like any
number of
different
mediums
and
resembles
several
historical
processes
or
movements.
I can’t
escape the
postmodern
society,
and I live
learning
how to
ride this
machine. I
think the
unattainable,
the lack -
what you
don’t see
- is the
crux of a
good piece
of art.
How does
one create
aura in
their work
in a
postmodern
society?
Ironically,
I don’t
think the
answer is
a tangible
one.
Artists
fight hard
and long
their
entire
lives to
not leave
a
replicant
painting,
photograph
or
sculpture
behind,
but a
lingering
idea,
timeless
emotion or
a critical
theory
about why
and how
life
doesn’t
work.
KDR: Many
of the
images in
this
exhibit
have a
vertical,
portrait-like
format,
and are in
rather
elaborate
frames.
The effect
is like a
portrait
gallery -
but the
images
themselves
go toward
the
grotesque.
Is this a
commentary
on
mortality;
on the
façades we
present?
LG: I went
into this
show
wanting to
create a
series of
portraits
with the
semblance
of a
portrait
gallery
and I
think Mark
Daughhetee
did a
superb job
of hanging
and
lighting
the show
in keeping
with that
atmosphere.
I think
that my
work is
descriptive
of our
finite
time on
earth; the
pieces are
reminders
of the
transient
nature of
our
physical
being. I
have
always
intended
for my
figures to
be humbled
in the
face of
nature in
the
tradition
of memento
mori
(archaic
society’s
appreciation
of one’s
ultimate
demise as
a
transition).
In this
way I
suppose
they are
about
façades in
the sense
that they
are
intended
to strip
away our
everyday
façade and
show the
damage and
fragility
that lies
beneath.
This
intentional
unmasking
of
fragility
is based
on an
intimate
relationship
with
fragments,
with what
is
crumbling
and in
ruin. This
wreckage
on
wreckage
comes into
existence
only when
its normal
structural
use has
been
abandoned.
I see my
figures as
the
sensual
under the
severed
fragments,
rapturous
and
constricting,
both
broken and
fixed.
KDR: Your
work
suggests
an
affinity
with other
artists
who have
explored
“grotesquerie,’
artists
like
Bosch,
Goya and
Francis
Bacon.
Does their
work
appeal to
you? What
kind of
art, in
general,
do you
most
enjoy?
What
artists do
you find
inspiring?
LG: One of
the
reasons I
think
Bosch,
Goya and
Bacon
remain
fresh is
because
the work
translates
as
timeless
intelligence.
These
artists
have
created
that aura
or
illusion
that is so
important
in art. I
recently
came
across a
definition
of the
grotesque
as the
combination
of man and
animal
interwoven
with
nature. It
conjures
up such a
beautiful
image of
the cycle
of nature.
I do
appreciate
the work
of the
artists
you've
mentioned.
I enjoy
de Kooning's
woman
series,
the still
lifes of
Soutine,
and I
think some
of Ivan
Albright's
work is
astonishing.
My
influences
are
probably
more
diverse as
I find
myself
drawing on
a wider
variety of
material
to create
my work.
I'm most
drawn to
something
that
embodies
an element
of the
tragic.
KDR: I
read that
you had
recently
gotten a
master’s
degree in
art
history
and
comparative
literature.
What
insights
might that
course of
study have
provided
for your
art?
LG: I
received a
Master of
Fine Arts
degree in
photography,
but much
of the
academic
study was
in
comparative
literature
(philosophy),
art
history
and
contemporary
art
criticism.
I think
that the
study I
did in art
theory and
art
history
was most
helpful in
enabling
me to
better
orally
defend my
artwork
and to put
it in a
literary
context.
When you
understand
art
history
and art
movements
then you
find
places for
your art.
You learn
if it has
modernist
or
postmodernist
tendencies,
if it’s
Freudian
or
Lacanian.*
KDR:
Anything
else you’d
like to
add?
LG: Well
this is a
loaded
question.
Ultimately,
to find
purpose in
art and
life, it
is
necessary
to descend
and plunge
into one’s
self as
terrestrial
matter, to
be
unredeemed,
a brutal
element,
but a
physical
body alone
cannot
have any
sort of
direction
in this
life. I
find
spirituality
is a
powerfully
felt
concept.
It
overcomes
the
physical
infestations
of man. It
is this
spiritual
activity -
the psychic-self which
grasps and
feels and
permeates
from all
sides.
Life
itself can
become the
subject of
sacrament.
My intent
toward art
is to
consecrate
my life
experiences,
to shore
my
thoughts
and
transform
by
consciousness,
curiosity,
humility
and
purpose.
* A
description
of Jacques
Lacan's
philosophy
can be
read at:
http://www.haberarts.com/lacan.htm
|
