Q: Abi. Thanks for taking the time to discuss your show with me, despite your recent bicycle accident. How are you doing?
A: I am getting better. Though things are still a bit fuzzy around the edges. If I had one thing to say about the accident: WEAR YOUR HELMET. I would be a candidate for Bodyworld 4 if I hadn’t had mine on.
Q: Well wishes your way. Last year another artist in town, Daniel Duford, also had a similar accident, in which he was hit by a car. You were both in ‘grey|area‘. I can only hope that with increased traffic and population, this bike-friendly town stays true to itself somehow - but minds the gap so to speak.
‘Into White‘ seems to be a huge step up for you, in terms of scale, and your space/time defying process-orientedness. Can you say what it took to jump start this body of work?
A: There were a lot of things that inspired me to take this step. Part of it came from just asking myself what I wanted to see and experience in art. One thing is that I wanted to create work that filled my visual field. I wanted to be create the sense of expanse. I also wanted the work to be optically stimulating, in some of the ways that OP ART was but without the “hit you over the head” element. I just needed these pieces to be quieter than that. The repetition of small elements over a vast field I have always felt to be calming and exiting at the same time. I never considered the process oriented-ness as an obstacle. It is what I do. I love the process. That doesn’t mean that it isn’t really difficult and boring and hard at times but other times it is just the opposite. It did occur to me though, as I was working on these 8 x 8 foot panels, that applying my ‘process’ on this scale, one of layering many many layers of paint and then sanding them off, was going to be a hell of a lot of work. Of course a lot of what was holding me back from doing this work earlier is the fear of its being un-sellable. That is where I should thank RACC for supporting this project. I had submitted a grant application prior to this one that they rejected, which I realize would have only been an anchor if I had gotten it. This one I got and it served as a great kick in the ass to go in the right direction.
Q: Can you say something about the ambience of work, it’s sheer depth of field and hyper luminosity. Why is white so important to you?
A: Ambience, Depth, Hyper-Luminosity. Yes I can talk about that: without getting too personal, which I think could kind of hold back someone’s experience of the work.
The first piece in the white series, looked white when I put the paint on, ended up looking pretty blue when it was finished, anyway, that piece was titled “white peace.” And without sounding all Christmas-y or anti-war-y (although I certainly am the latter). I felt what I needed and what the work needed was peace, or something like that. So I sort of went about visualizing what that state of semi-transcedence would feel like and how I could paint something that could evoke that feeling. Something sort of like the white light people speak of in near death experiences (and yes I was thinking about this well before I tried to smash my head open like a watermellon on the side walk) or what they experience maybe in nirvana some kind of senseless sense, the lifting off. Of course creating something that exits in that space, something that you haven’t seen or really experienced in anyway visually before took some effort. ( DUH!) There are a few monsterous disasters taking up room in my studio, just waiting for their pumpkin coach to arrive.
Q: In the past you’ve dealth with themes of nature, in a few of the works here I see a nod to Monet’s lily pads. Am I seeing things? Can you talk to the ‘nature’ of the making of this series?
A: Absolutely. Monet, Nature, the kitchen sink. ( no not the kitchen sink) Yes, I think there is definitely some Monet in the pieces from my last series “Water”. He painted water fantasticly. Now there maybe a little more Turner, (but without the sail boats or the sun or … well anything really) I was really interested in patterns from nature. How simular things could build up a somewhat mezmerising field. I love the experience of looking at vast expanses visuall simular things in nature, fields of grass, wind patters in sand, obviously water patterns, cell growth , meanders… it is an amazing place we inhabit… now if we could just keep from blowing it apart… I think in these paintings I got a little further from painting nature and used the brush stroke as if it was a naturely made mark, something I have wanted to do, and held in the back of my mind as what I should be doing for a while but at some point… it is like… well I am not get anywhere painting what I think people will be able to relate to… maybe I should just paint what I need to.
Q: In the past few years you have settled in your new studio space, a big old firehouse under renovations. How influential was your working environment?
A: Well shit. Getting out of a basement where you couldn’t swing a cat, to a space with light and hell you could swing a bunch of cats and some dogs too… Yes it has been fantastic. The renovations…Hell I lived places that didn’t have heat in Colorado, ( or hot water or a kitchen for that matter) So this place seemed like a palace to me when we moved in … but the renovations like insulation, have made a huge difference. I did have to call off the construction at one point though, I needed not to have anyone around so I could focus on the show. (”the swing a cat reference” is from Down by Law the Jim Jarmusch movie in 1986 where the charactor played by Roberto Benigni says that the jail cell is too small to swing a cat. Which is what my studio started to feel like after awhile… and while I am digressing… that was filmed in Louisiana and we had lunch at Roux today… FANTASTIC if you are a meat eater. )
Q: I loved that film (I even have the DVD lying around somewhere). Because there are aspects of your work that is almost subliminally optical, how would you describe some of these pieces to someone who perhaps was blind?
A: I would describe them as being similar to the third taste one gets when one combines complimentary foods…foods that make a third flavor in your mouth things like…xtra sharp cheddar cheese and tart Macintosh apples or in music when two notes harmonize or even interfere.
Q: The senses make sense here. You’re a painter who knows something or other about color theory. Would you discuss a bit about your use of opposing, primary or contrasting colors to come up with these highly refined conclusions?
A: Basically I am using relationships between complimentary colors (opposites) and trying to create works were the compliments are the same value. Obviously you can have a much higher saturation yellow with a very low saturation purple and have the values be the same, so I don’t tend to work with primary or even tertiary colors.
Q: There’s something illusory going on. Like a slipstream, a memory, some might even call it a ‘trip’. How important, if at all, is getting across a sense of synesthasia to your general viewer?
A: I hope that I am.
Q: Do you think this particular body of work takes greater inspection than work that is more boldly illustrative or graphic? Say, in the way people pay reverence in pilgramages to the Rothko Chapel in Texas?
A: If you walk into this show and you don’t take a little time you really aren’t going to see anything… except maybe some of the little weird things that I left on the surface to help people focus on it (it is really hard to focus on without these). The colors are too light and the contrast is too small so it takes your eyes a pretty long time to adjust. And as far as the Rothko Chapel goes… I could write about that for ever, I have visited probably 5 times now. Let me tell you… it was worth it… the experience that you have of it on a sunny Houston day is very different than the experience you have when it is cloudy (it is much better in the clouds). You do have to take time to look at this work… That work and Ad Reinhardt’s black paintings I think really make people see work rather than just look at it.
Q: Honestly, the first time I walked into the gallery I completely missed the work, despite the fact that they are two+ times my size. Upon my sophomore viewing my eys adjusted slowly but surely and then I started seeing surprising things. Can I ask - do you care to say anything about your influences that is directly related to the development of ‘Into White’?
A: Direct influences, I think that I probably listed them in the last question and to that list I would have to add Robert Irwin and Agnes Martin. Although I think Martin has been more of an influence in terms of work ethic and philosophy, despite the use of white, we use very dissimilar means to get to dissimilar ends with maybe philosophical similarities. I have to say that in a way these paintings happened because she died. what I mean by that is that it seemed after she died that there was room for more white paintings out there.
Q: How long were you working on the four larger panels?
A: Lets see… 8 months?
Q: That’s studio practice and committment. Are these the largest pieces you’ve made? Are you continuing to work this scale?
A: These are the largest paintings that I have ever made and I hope to keep working this scale, or larger, the technical obstacles will be solved, somehow. That isn’t to say that I won’t do small work. A lot of what I do is color studies on anything from 6 x 6 inch panels on up. I also like to do studies in oil… but don’t tell anyone.
Q: Your secret is safe with all of us.
The concept of making your work, to me, is partly the grande scale possibility, the step up, the no holes barred approach. Your catalogue for the show goes deeply into the behind-the-scenes making of the work, the process. But beyond process, after mixing and grinding and applying, sanding, etc. does this greater sense of muscle power and physicality say something about the nature of being a female artist? Or are we light years past the gender premise of having to plant your own freak flag in order to gain any deserved respect?
A: I think my mother planted the freak flag for me so that there hasn’t been much of an issue as far as proving anything, and like my mom, I am intensely physical from rock climbing to biking to skiing, I am generally hanging with the guys, like she did. In my house my mother was the one who fixed things, used hammers and screw drivers and stuff, my dad liked to read…So I think that the physicality of this work come more from just being who I am (I am a big gal), who likes to crash around. I also think the no hold bars comes from have repeated existential crisis. But do I think that there is discrimination in the art world? Yes, I do.
Q: Well, since you brought it up, this is certainly museum work. What do you think?
A: Well it certainly needs large spaces to show it. If that space is in a museum, cool, if it is in the middle of the desert, and people can see it, that is cool to. Obviously I would be thilled if a museum wanted to show it.
Q: While staring into one of the pieces I started to notice aspects that were reminiscent of photography and printing. If you remember, before digital printing, there was paste-up, rubylith and blue lines. For me there was something about that in the work. Since the work is abstract and minimal in nature, do you think about how a painting could be perceived in terms of other media?
A: You know I don’t think I do, to me the history, the record of how the piece is made, complete with all its little defects is too important to represent photographically. Perhaps I would tend to go the other direction into sculpture.
Q: What gets you through the making of your work? Perhaps a favorite quote, makes sense when you are deep in the process?
A: I think I end up meditating. I got to the point where I wasn’t listening to the radio or any music and just working…The process making all these repetitive marks, created a lot of space for things, memories and ideas to wander in, (and a lot of them were kind of crappy), so at first I would feel like I was painting over things, and then I felt like I was letting go of things as I was painting.
Q: Now that you have been here in the Pacific Northwest for a half dozen years or so, how have things changed for you in your studio practice as opposed to the way you may have worked in either the Southwest or Northeast?
A: I am neither too hot or too cold, but just right, as Goldilocks would say.
Q: Are you hoping to show works like this outside the area, perhaps in university, museum or other academic settings? Do you have any prospects?
A: I was tempted to answer this in some kind of sarcastic way making a joke that yes I was having a show at Yale or something, but in fact I don’t have any plans and the accident has sort of put any plan making on the shelf for a little while. I am going to be writing some grants and pitching proposals at people though as soon as I can think straight.
Q: Breath.
This was your second solo show at Chambers in Portland. What has your experience been working with them? I know they do not officially represent artists per se, but can you say something about the history of your relationship with the space and/or how it was important to show this particular body of work there?
A: Chambers is really relaxed. That has its pluses (and some minuses like having to buy your own light bulbs) but the big plus of it is that you get a lot of control about where things go and how they look - and Wid and Sika are great.
Q: Well, thanks for being so generous with your time. This is where I hand you the open mic for the last word…..
A: Thank you TJ. You were the first art person that I met here and you have been a great supporter, inspiration and sharer of ideas.
• • •
Abi Spring’s Into White at Chambers Fine Art is open through this Saturday, October 13 (Wednesday through Saturday, 12-6PM).
The Tram-O-Lantern says if you haven’t already had the pleasure, why not go ahead and take the Portland Aerial Tram and do it for less than 1/2 price? The trick to get the treat is to take the #8 Trimet bus up to Marquam Hill. Get off at the main OHSU stop and take the tram down. I find the ride down more exhilirating anyhow. Since you only pay on the tram ride into the skies you simply pay $1.75 for the bus trip up the hill instead of the normal $4.00 and still see the sights from the heights. Not recommended for rush hour. After you get down to South Waterfront consider taking in the multidisciplinary art experiences curated by choreographer Linda K. Johnson. Consider it a tip and not a trick.
Yesterday I had the pleasure of being one of the first folks on the block to see QPCA artist Bryan Schellinger’s new work before it’s shipped off for viewing at Aqua Miami (w/Romo). These works on paper are intricate, multilayered, ornate lil’ fantasies that are expressively detailed and colorful. Quality Pictures will host one of my pieces in their room during the event (more details soon). In the same breath I have decided to make the trip. This’ll be my very first time on Florida soil (er, sand). Should be great people watching, and some interesting art exchanges. Don’t miss German photographer Oliver Boberg at QPCA opening this week, this is by far what I would consider their most anticipated show at the gallery since they swung open their doors last year. My prediction is that this is gonna hit real hard.
