The work of Brooklyn-based artist Alicia Scardetta.
Drawing on the ancient system of weaving in its most basic form, Alicia is interested in manipulating the variables to determine what can be produced when the warp and weft are challenged. Using vibrant colors, woven appendages, and negative space, each piece achieves a playful quality within the historical context of weaving and tapestry.
Alicia will be exhibiting and selling her beautiful work at West Coast Craft, Saturday November 12th – Sunday November 13th at Fort Mason in SF. Be sure to check it out!
To see more of her work, click here
**images and text from the artist’s site
Eva Struble paints the many ways we inhabit the world, touching on themes from social rituals to psychological spaces. Using the landscape as a site and a springboard, Struble explores labor, leisure, dreams and relationships in layered, cumulative images.
MH: To get started, I wanted to ask you about your process of painting itself. You use techniques of layering, printing and some collage-like motifs. I can’t help but think of it as a process of accumulation and happenstance, rather than something that builds to a pre-planned climax. What is your process actually like?
ES: Flexibility and a “dialogue” with the material as a project grows is important, as is setting up surprises for myself through the process. Right now I’m making a huge installation at the Japanese Garden Pavillion in San Diego’s Balboa Park. I’m using discarded garden plant waste, which will be painted, woven and hung. This is fun for me since I’m unfamiliar with the material and have to become a student of it to make the piece work. When I went to grad school in 2004, almost all of the forty or so painters there at Yale were working in paint on canvas or panel. Interdisciplinary work, and working with different surfaces has been a relatively recent undertaking for me.
MH: Your Emblema series tickled me. I’m reading SPQR, Mary Bead’s history of ancient Rome, and Roman politics and excess are bursting with tempting analogies for the United States today. Can you talk about what emblema are, and how the series came about?
ES: When I moved to California from New York in 2011, driving up and down through the Central Valley, and back and forth from hiking trips, I tried to identify all the crops and trees I would glimpse in passing. I started looking at a lot of archival fruit display images from events like the Panama exposition in San Diego. I grew interested in fruit and vegetables as a source of local pride and as another way landscape manifests itself in a domestic setting, or even as a kind of installation art. It’s hard not to appreciate art made out of whatever is at hand, and in this case, fruit became a material for sculpture i.e. columns made of oranges (below).
I pored over all the images of food displays I could find. I have books of Thai fruit carving (encouraged and funded by Thai royalty for more than 500 years—even children learn it in school) and other traditions of fruit displays. The cruise and wedding versions of these displays are a natural extension of this interest, and the kitschy display of waste to show wealth is both ridiculous and somehow charming to me. Reading that Roman permanent mosaic displays, emblema, would also signal a wealthy family’s material status through images of food was an interesting parallel to our present.
MH: Who are the figures in your recent work, the domestic paintings from this year? They remind me a bit of the anonymous people who populate architectural renderings.
ES: Those figures were almost all based on my own shadow, but depending on the day they represent different people in my life and different selves, as in the selves we perform or “release” in different settings and relationships. I also wanted to visualize the trace a body or experience might mentally leave on a place, the echo or eeriness in a mundane place where a friend or lover once was, where an intense interaction took place, etc. The paintings were based on places I walk through at work, or around my house and the locations were like boring stages I wanted to illuminate by with some psychological intensity I suppose. I’m not sure if that’s how they appear to the viewer.
MH: How do you research for your paintings and your practice in general? I often think of painting as a very interior process, linked to immediate surroundings. Your work feels personal but not interior, and like it involves a synthesis as part of a research process.
ES: I research the work through physical experience of place (for example, taking a historical “cruise” of polluted Newtown Creek), talking to people, through regular old archival bumbling in libraries and historical societies, online reading, and material experiments.
Over the past ten years my work has always related to the place where I live, but certainly there are other factors that impact it. Boring ones, like, I’m a relatively tall person, and I like making large enough work that it physically tires me, that I feel it in my body. I also like the action of making a problem for myself, and figuring it out, and repeating this over and over, even if that is just making a color problem, or a space problem in a painting. Sometimes the “research” doesn’t seem to clearly connect to the method of painting, which is a continual thing to work on resolving, or just keep doing in its imperfect form until it resolves itself through sheer quantity and tirelessness.
MH: Can you talk about your recent book, Daily Labor, and the collaborative process of making it?
ES: I try to balance my interests in material and play with interest in being a student of the place where I live. I’ve worked a lot alone in studios, but I like to be involved with people in my work too; who can I learn from, what other perspectives I can hear?
I’ve tried this is multiple ways and sometimes the collaboration is unintended. When I was visiting superfund sites in 2007 I was detained by Homeland Security for hours for photographing a tree outside of a chemical plant, and they took my camera with my source images. That social interaction shaped the work to some extent.
In recent years, I’ve done some printmaking workshops in the community on one hand, but this was always in my role as a teacher—not exactly collaborative. Making Daily Labor was humbling because I wanted to make a collaborative illustrated novel, and realized I had to change my method once I got into it. Of course, it brought up many questions: If I’m making “community-based” work, what is my community here? What does it mean to make this with people whose first and usually second language is different than mine, on a collaborative project? Is that truly collaborative? Maybe collaborative isn’t exactly the word. Because I worked with the CRLA (California Rural Legal Assistance) and talked through different iterations of the project with them, (which actually began as a mural!), I felt confident about bringing a different perspective on—or different representation of—problems they working on in a very practical way.
If the CRLA takes a case, and sues a farm for example, for lack of water, shade, bathrooms, or worse, for sexual assault on a worker, what would it contribute to read words from that worker about their life in general, illustrated? If that book existed in a different context from the CRLA’s outreach, and if it overlaps with art, what does that do? I spoke to day laborers and ag workers in San Diego with a translator (despite living in Spain for nearly two years, I quickly realized my Spanish has atrophied) for the project, made ink drawings for the book, and was lucky to print it with Colpa Press in SF. They did a great job, but I’m still not sure how I feel about the book yet. I think I will know later if it was successful if I keep building on it, and make something related, but better, in the future.
Rosemarie Auberson is a painter whose work combines collage, painting and drawing. Her work is purely abstract, sometimes more illustrative, but plays with the interaction of the surface with colors and texture, the full and empty. She collaborates with designers and brands such as Hermès and Rachel Comey. In parallel, she works as an art director.
Born in Switzerland, she is based and works in Paris, France.
All images via Tappan Collective.
In his photo series Floating In The Hudson, Carlos Jarmarillo creates a portrait of New York’s Hudson Valley, a relatively working-class and rural region despite its direct line to New York City. The fall apple harvest, its industrial metalworks, the small towns in which its residents live and the things they see are the subjects of his photos. You can see more from this series here.
*All images from artist’s website
Kasper Bosmans is a multimedia artist living and working in Brussels, Belgium. You can see more of his work at Marc Foxx Gallery.
*All images from Marc Foxx Gallery
The work of London-based artist Neil Raitt.
From Anat Ebgi gallery: Neil Raitt’s paintings are compositions of endlessly repeated cabins, mountains, ponds, trees and other natural motifs. Exploring the idea of repetition itself as a form of abstraction, Raitt’s work addresses landscape painting and the accessibility of its figurative form. With gestures adopted from Bob Ross’ television program The Joy of Painting, Raitt utilizes identifiable imagery in his intricate patterns that suspend the atmospheric effect of landscape and its illusion of space, dispersing any sense of perspective. [...] While Raitt’s work implies an accelerated machine-like production process, his work is borne of time-consuming and heavily labored oil painting. Raitt’s technical skill in painting modernizes the traditional landscape, deconstructing its figurative language with an approach that is neither wholly kitsch nor fully abstracted.
*all images from Anat Ebgi
Sadie Barnette is from Oakland, California. She received her BFA from CalArts and her Masters in Visual Arts from the University of California, San Diego. Barnette recently completed a year as Artist-in-Residence at The Studio Museum in Harlem. She has shown her work in venues including Charlie James Gallery, The Mistake Room, Self Help Graphics, and Papillion in Los Angeles; Ever Gold Projects in San Francisco; Studio Museum in Harlem; and Goodman Gallery in Johannesburg, South Africa. Commissions for public works include projects for UCSD’s Thurgood Marshall College and for New York’s WNYC public radio. Named as one of the “Black Artists: 30 Contemporary Art Makers Under 40 You Should Know” by the Huffington Post, Barnette has been featured in The New York Times, SFAQ (San Francisco Arts Quarterly), The Los Angeles Times, Artnet News and Art Forum. Her work is in the permanent collections of museums such as The Pérez Art Museum, Cornell Fine Arts Museum and The Studio Museum in Harlem. Barnett has an exhibition up currently at Jenkins Johnson Gallery from sept 17 – oct 29th
to check out more of her work click here
*all images & bio taken from sadiebarnette.com
Hanna Barczyk was born in Germany and currently divides her time between New York City and Toronto, Ontario. She graduated from the Ontario College of Art and Design with a bachelor of Design. She creates conceptual illustrations for major publications such as The The New York Times, The Washington Post, The Wall Street Journal, The Boston Globe and The Los Angeles Times, among many others. Inspired by her family’s Hungarian folk art traditions, vintage Polish film posters, German Expressionism, memories, love, music, movement, and a passion for dance, she often illustrates emotional driven solutions that are bold, conceptual, and delicate at the same time. Hanna combines a variety of media, including pen and ink, acrylic paint, woodblock, and digital.
To see more of her work, click here.
Emma Crockatt is a UK-based artist who uses drawing, collage, and ceramics to invoke a sense of childhood wonder and nostalgia in her work. You can see more on her website.
*All images from emmacrockatt.com