Artist, Beverly Gimlin, whom you may remember from Light, Silence back in May of this year is having a show this November. Here’s the official invitation; we hope to see you all there!

“People remember good stories. They don’t remember the bad ones.”  StEvE EdgE

Thanks to Do Lectures

Just Take It For What It Is: Beauty Redefined

by Tim Dery

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A lex Lim’s eye-catching photos of beautiful models in breathtaking outdoor settings remind me of a cover for a surrealist fantasy novel, or a poster for said novel turned into a movie. It’s not fantasy though; it’s all real. It’s not hard to spend hours taking in the photos on his site and letting your mind wander into the landscapes and lives and stories presented there.

His studio in the Bemis Building is a cavernous but simple space, with huge windows that let in plenty of natural light. One end is set up with photography gear and pieces for a shoot, and some of his work adorns the walls.

Alex is a Seattle-based photographer whose website (www.atreidex.com) is hard to pronounce. We’ll get to that.

Tim Dery: I really like the setup of your website, how easy it is to browse through the pictures. Is that Flash?

Alex Lim: Yeah, I played around with some of the different portfolio options. I stuck with that one, simpleviewer. There’s a pro version you can customize more, but I try to keep it as simple as possible. It’s easy to navigate, you see thumbnails right away, nothing’s hidden, it’s easy to skim through.

TD: Your photographs on the site are fascinating – the landscapes look like surrealist fantasy landscapes.

AL: Thanks. Most people ask if they are greenscreen, studio shot type of stuff. It is kind of annoying, because you put in so much work to drive five hours and then climb the mountain or whatever and people think it seems fake. It is a little flattering because if it is that impressive or it evokes that sort of reaction in someone, that’s gotta be good.

Right now I’m in the middle of planning something where we’re going all the way down to the Washington Oregon border. It’s not that far, but for some of the Seattle photographers and models, for this sort of work, it’s pretty extensive to take a whole team that far.

TD: How big a team do you usually have when you shoot?

AL: On most of the fashion editorials or location shoots, maybe 4 to 6. They can get a lot bigger, but I usually try to keep the size down because it makes the logistics easier to manage.

TD: How much planning goes in to one of these shoots?

AL: It takes a two- to three- week period, mostly managing everyone else and the logistics. That way, the team is on board with what you are doing, and the schedules work out.

Often on basic fashion test shoots, there’s a rough concept and a meet and great. Then you have a quick high-energy session and you’re done. I prefer the shoots where there’s more pre-production, more planning going in.

TD: How do you find your locations for the shots?

AL: Wherever (laughs). Sometimes literally just go drive around all day. I try to use all the tools out there; Google Maps has some location photos. With an IPhone you can do a Google Maps satellite view and combine it with the associated photos, then drive around looking at the pictures around you. If anything looks remotely interesting, I’ll go check it out. I found a few places like that.

When I was down in the Bay area, I didn’t know a lot of the outlying neighborhoods and cities very well. Most of them have a decent website. What do they do? They take some of their most notable places and stick them up there as promotion. That’s a great way to find cool sites in the area. I have a shot of my girlfriend at this mountain theatre that’s how I found that one, at the city’s website.

TD: That picture is incredible, it was one of the first ones that really jumped out. My reaction was “What am I looking at? This is crazy!”

AL: Thanks. That’s Cushing Memorial Amphitheater. I never did a full shoot there. We were out on a scouting trip; we went there just to check it out and it was super foggy and cold. Whenever we go out scouting like that we’ll bring some outfits along, just in case we want to do an impromptu photo shoot. That one turned out pretty well.

TD: It was great how you tied your martial arts background into your photography story on your website bio.

AL: I though about it a lot, especially he first couple of years when I was starting to shoot. Most of the people I encountered that were more in the arts community seemed really different than me. I looked at things in a more serious, strict kind of way. There are a lot of superficial aspects related to the fashion industry; there’s so much ego and attitude, and the pomp and fakeness. I felt different than most of the people I was meeting. I felt that was a strength for me, coming from a background where I value a lot of these other things that seem to be lacking in this industry. I thought “this has got to help set me apart and my work will be different”. It’s less of a conscious thing now, and it doesn’t translate as literally as it did a few years ago.

TD: When you first started as a photographer, were you doing fashion shoots?

AL: Yeah, when I first started it was the same as a lot of photographers, where they start general and then realize they need to shoot people or people related things if they want to make any money. A lot of them end up dabbling in the people stuff, and then they realize that “I don’t really want to shoot babies, I don’t really want to shoot seniors”, you know…

TD: Dogs, cats…

AL: Right, dogs, cats, weddings, so then it becomes “what am I, am I a portrait photographer?” There’s portraits, there’s fashion, it was kind of like that, although really fast, over the course of the first two or three months of picking up the camera. At the end of the first month I was like “I really don’t want to be shooting events”, by the second month I was sort of “I want to be getting portrait clients”, and then after that I was thinking “that feels really limited, I want to create something”, so then I went to fashion and editorial work where you can tie everything into the photo. It’s a lot more my taste where the location of the story and all that stuff comes in to play. That’s how it evolved, right in the first few months.

TD: What prompted you to pick up the camera?

AL: I started a couple months after college while doing a halfhearted job search in tech fields. I got a business degree, but I really didn’t want to have a regular nine-to-five corporate job. Eventually I made a website on the side that was supposed to be for graphic design, web design, and photography. The photography came from just the year before when I bought an SLR for a Taekwondo fundraiser.

Good cameras were getting cheaper, I was interested and eventually bought an SLR when it was affordable. I thought “Hey I’ll use it for a club fundraiser”. It was Mom’s weekend over at WSU, when all the families come visit and everyone is just roaming around everywhere. I thought “why don’t we see if we can put up a fundraiser and take portraits of the families, since they probably haven’t had pictures with their kids in years?” It kinda worked; we made a decent amount of money. The photos were terrible, but that’s where the little bit of spark started, in terms of “I can do this, I can shoot people”. I shot maybe 150 different parties in a 3 day period! Even now, that sounds ridiculously crazy, I wouldn’t want to do that. But it was fun to play the photographer and people just assumed I knew what I was doing, you know?

TD: So long as you could pretend to know more than them?

AL: Right, like they would come in and I’d say “OK, have a seat. Now try to turn this way”, and they went right along with it. It was sort of weird to be directing all these strangers, but that’s where I realized that having my own business thing on the side could work. It just took over after that.

TD: How much do you think your business degree has helped with your photography business?

AL: (laughs) Not much! I think the martial arts helped more. I don’t mean it from the discipline side of it, but the real life sense of it. I built the Taekwando at WSU. That was more or less a business trial in itself. There were managerial skills involved in running the program, and there were all sorts of political interactions with the administration. I think that definitely did help. It also helped with the people skills and the interactions that I use while shooting. That comes into play more than the actual business coursework.

TD: How do you like the Bemis Building and your space?

AL: It’s great, I’ve only been here a few months. I don’t want to say I’m already used to it, but it’s a weird feeling; when I first got in and checked it out, moving in, it felt ginormous. Now, it doesn’t feel small, by any means, but it feels small-er. I guess it’s pretty big, but not really; my windows are right there! Everyone looks at me like “this isn’t small!”. But it’s been good in the building so far, no complaints. I like living here.

TD: Do you do much shooting here?

AL: Yeah, part of the whole deal with having a live/work space is using it as studio space. That’s something I’ve always wanted to have.

TD: You didn’t have a studio down in Frisco?

AL: No, when I was shooting previously it was always studio sharing, which is OK to help keep costs down a little bit, but it’s a trade off. I hated the idea that I couldn’t build sets, that I had to come in and set up, shoot, and then break down. It’s not ideal. I’m also a bit of a neat freak, so the thought of coming in and cleaning up someone else’s mess got annoying. But now that I actually have my own space, I’m making myself explore a lot more of the in-studio work. If you look at my work, most of it is on location. I definitely like that better. That was kind of a product of not having studio space before, so I had to shoot on location. I prefer to always be outside, even if it’s something that could have been shot in a studio, I’d rather go down an alley or something.

TD: That’s interesting. If you would have had studio space, do you think you would have been on location as much?

AL: Probably a little bit less. I like that outside environments change, light is changing, people are in the way, you have to move and do whatever it takes. It’s just more interesting. It can be more stressful, but I think that’s what helps produce more interesting results. Studio work feels more static and boring. If you are in the studio, whatever you get is completely your fault, good or bad.

TD: You can tweak everything.

AL: Right. That sounds good, but at the same time that doesn’t sound very good! (laughs) Lately I’ve been shooting more regularly in here. I’ve been trying to do more beauty stuff, and a little more subject related stuff, model stuff, even more sensual stuff. That’s easier done in a studio rather than out somewhere. You need a little privacy.

TD: What prompted you to go the direction of the studio work?

AL: I think my weak point is the really technical, precise studio work. There are a number of photographers all over that do that type of work, but it’s the opposite of what I do. They have incredibly simple shots, like a white wall with a shadow, and always in the studio. A lot of it I don’t particularly like, but I admire the fact that they are very good at that style. They’ve done really well with it. I wanted to focus on studio work in the interest of having a better rounded book and having a broader skill set.

TD: How often to you get to just take pictures for the sake of taking pictures? Like for your own pursuits, vs doing stuff for work or for a portfolio?

AL: You mean where I literally have no foresight what this is supposed to be for? It’s kind of a mix. A lot of the photos that I have up on the site are personal work, so that is definitely more along the lines of whatever the hell I want to do, but some of it is a collaboration with a startup designer who’s starting to get a look book going. They want some specific items, but they also want me to bring something to the table creatively.

The way I try to do any photo work has a degree of uncompromising. What I mean is that I don’t want to do any content or any types of shoot that has aesthetics that I don’t personally like. Just because I’d get a job shooting catalog products or something that might pay really well…

TD: Like cats or something?

AL: Right, I don’t want to do that. It means that I probably don’t make nearly as much money as I could if I was gonna do those types of things, but I don’t market myself that way. I don’t pursue those types of jobs. I’d rather focus on exactly what I want to be doing, be good at it, and be sought for things that are along those lines.

TD: I’m probably going to butcher it, but your website URL is atreidex.com. What’s that from?

AL: (laughs) I took that from when I was really little, from the Dune novel series. Why is kind of vague, and it’s pretty personal how it became my call sign and my URL. It’s a little bit iffy since most people can’t pronounce it, for good reason. I mean, look at it, it’s an unusual word. I’m fully aware that when it comes to a URL on your website, the simpler it is to say and remember the better, but I did it on purpose.

TD: That’s where I looked and said “it’s well laid out, you’ve got a nice blog and the logo and everything, but the URL. How is anyone going to remember this?”!

AL: Well, it was a conscious thing, in the sense that I know it’s hard to remember, it’s hard to pronounce, but there are multiple reasons for it. I didn’t want to have something like alexlimphotography.com. That sounds really easy to remember, but it didn’t fit with the style I was trying to go for. People remember images long before they remember the name. People will bookmark it, or forward it to a friend, so it won’t really matter as much that it’s a hard word.

There’s one photographer that I was inspired by back when I first started shooting, four or five years ago. His name is Sacha Dean Biyan, and his website is eccentris.com. I can never remember it! I was trying to refer it to people, saying “you should go to this site” and I had to look him up by name. It was that situation where everythying was extremely styled and sort of uncompromising in the way he laid things out and it had this funky name, but he’s a super successful dude and his whole thing has really taken off even though his URL is hard to say and hard to spell; it’s a made up word.

TD: You had mentioned wanting to do your own thing and be known for that. What would that look like, what would that be?

AL: I’m really into non-pop-culture ideas of beauty. I don’t want to say “non-white” models, but I think the showcasing of non-white beauty through things like fashion and pop culture is in its infancy. The melting pot idea is not new, but there are still huge gaps and divides. For example, Asian actors don’t get leading roles in movies – that’s just the way it is.

There are certain stereotypes of beauty expected in models, if they are Asian or white or black or whatever. I guess what I would try to focus on in the future, as an ideal, are those types of beauty combined. Cultural evolutions, mixed ethnicity, mixed with elements of different kinds of culture in the fashion. I’d like to produce the sort of photography where you can’t tell the location of the shoot. It’d be futuristic, not in a sci-fi technology sense, but where everyone looks like mixed races. You would see different parts of the globe fused throughout the whole scene. That’s the kind of work that I would want to focus on and be known for.

As for expressing those ideas now, that would probably best be used for tourism or travel, showcasing the best of a culture, local places, local food, and different elements of beauty, stuff like that.

TD: Have you had any opportunities to do that sort of work?

AL: Not nearly to the extent I’d want. Usually it’s smaller elements, like trying to feature a model that’s half Saudi, half something else, that kind of thing. In terms of applying it to work and jobs, it hasn’t really come up too much. That’s my goal, but it’s not the main focus of most of my clients. I try to fit in though, and try to use the multi-cultured beauty idea as much as possible.

TD: If there was something that you could tell people about your work that isn’t readily apparent or obvious, what would you like them to know?

AL: I guess what I hope would come across when people are looking at my work is that it looks different. Not different just for the sake of being different, but because I am different. I don’t consider myself a artsy. I would acknowledge that I have some unique tastes, and the execution of those through my work is my ‘artistic style’, but I really don’t equate it to any higher level.

It’s hard to say just one singular thing I’d like people to know about my work. In a way, it’s just there, just look at it and take it for what it is.

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Alex is a 28 year old self-taught fashion photographer from Seattle.  He is inspired by self-made individuals, and believes passion is the lifeblood of success. Coming from a martial arts background, he constantly seeks to expand his abilities and excel.  He feels it is a necessity to incorporate ethnic minorities and cultural influences into his work whenever possible, and strives to capture all forms of beauty.

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‘ Art (of) Work‘ offers an intimate view into the artist’s world.

Design by Lisa Berry

Produced by Jenn Morgan

In the Studio with Tracy Lang

by Cameron Karsten

Curiosity, Costumes, and Skull Caps

by Tim Dery

As I make my way into the workspace of Lindsey Cunningham, I can’t help but notice the massive chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, adorned with headdresses like a chorus line frozen in a picture. Lindsey is a friendly, southern gentleman whose stories meander like the rivers of his native Tennessee.

Tim Dery: How did you get into making headdresses?

Lindsey Cunningham: Well, when I was little I’d go to the Ringling Brothers Circus. I liked all the shiny stuff, and the feathers, and I’d look at the girls and go “How’s that great big thing stay on their head?”, since it looked like just a small piece of fabric. They had these great big huge headdresses and I’d just wonder “How are they doing that? What’s it made of?”

When I was older they opened Opryland, which is a theme park that specialized in shows. I started going there and seeing the shows. They would occasionally do one with more theatrical stuff, headpieces and costumes. When I was sixteen, I got a job there.  After high school, I became a dresser for their shows.

TD: Wasn’t Opryland just country music?

LC: No, it was all kinds of shows. The Grand Ole Opry is why everyone thinks it’s just country music. The big one was “I hear America Singing” – all kinds of music, over 250 songs in a 55-minute show! It was a big production number, with lots of costume changes. Nine men and nine women would sing and dance, and there was a full band. The fewest number of costume changes was 13, and some of the performers had as many as 17!

TD: How did they manage all those changes?

LC: That’s where the director was a genius. They’d start the number, sing half a line, and the first person would leave to change costumes. They’d sing another half of a line, then the next person would leave. The people on the stage would start walking around and moving, so you’d lose track of how many people had gone backstage. When the song was done, half the people would be gone and you wouldn’t realize it. They’d get into the real start of the show, the opening number, and everyone would run out on stage in different costumes and you’d be surprised! “Where’d they all come from? How many people are in this show?!”

I was one of two dressers that worked that show. We did seven shows a day, from 10 AM to 10 PM. We had two casts, a morning cast that did the first half of the day, and a night cast that did the second half of the day. Once the show started, you never stopped. Even in the audience, the show would end and you’d say, “The show’s over? But it just started!” It felt like a 20-minute show, since there were so many changes.

TD: For those shows, would the director come in and say, “We want costumes that look like this”, or did they give you more leeway?

LC: It really depended on the director. Some would say, “Here’s the time period and the theme I want, go do it.” Others give you all that, then tell you “I want her in a long green dress”, or “I want him in a blue suit”. I’ve worked for other designers that wanted to approve every step – they give you a sketch, then they want to approve the pattern, then they want you to make a frame, then they want to approve that. Still others would say “Here’s the sketch, see you when it’s done. Bye!” And you get everything in between.

TD: How did you start making the skullcaps?

LC: I was working a Las Vegas-style show that was playing in Atlantic City. They were buying cheap skullcaps for $2 or $3; they were really big, lumpy, and round rather than head-shaped. They were single ply, made of buckram, sort of like a big bowl. There was a piece of floating wire around the edge that was really uncomfortable. They would buy them, then we’d buy more buckram and make them nicer, more comfortable.

Eventually, I said, “I think I can make them better than this”.

TD: When was that?

LC: After the first show I did! I’d done other shows where they had bought good skullcaps, so I knew there were better ones out there. I knew I could do better. They weren’t as good as the ones I’m doing now, but still way better.

TD: And you had to custom fit all of them?

LC: Yeah, we did. They would rehearse the show in Sanford [Florida], then they’d come see us and we’d fit them, and by the time the show was ready to go live in Atlantic City everything was fit, altered, and done.

After that, I started looking for more customers on my own. I had five or six standard shapes, so I was able to carry some inventory. I did some mailers and I started to get small orders, like from costume shops. A big order was maybe 6 of them. People loved them, so I was getting some orders from word of mouth. I went from filling a costume shop order of one or two, to dinner theater with a few more, then community theater groups, that kind of thing.

TD: Do you have any really memorable customers from those days?

LC: Yeah, the first time I got really excited, I got a call from Ringling Brothers! For me, that was the moment when I said, “OK, I’ve hit the big time!” The order came from a milliner that was making the headpieces for a bunch of clowns. When the show came to Orlando, I went and saw the show and said, “Those are my headpieces!”

TD: For work, were you just making the skullcaps at that point?

LC: Oh no – I worked at Seaworld and another theme park that isn’t around any more. I worked for America’s Health Network that filmed on the Universal lot; that was fun. I did some movie work and some TV work, window dressings and things like that. It was all word of mouth. For example, my friend worked as a set designer on a short-lived show called “The Fortune Hunter” that had been a mid-season replacement for something that got canceled. They needed help making the sets, so my friend brought me on. I did some sort of sewing or set decorating for each show they did. Sometimes it was sewing pillows, or set decoration, hanging curtains, things like that. There was one scene that was supposed to be in a hotel room. They had us go to one of the restaurants in the theme park, at Universal, and convert one of the private rooms into a hotel room. Later when I watched the show, I said “I know where that is!”

TD: What brought you to Seattle?

LC: My sister lived out here, and I’d visited a few times. I came to Seattle six times, at all different times of the year. The last time I came it was around Christmas, and I was here for a week. It snowed four times in that week! But it was never bitter cold. It was huge flakes of snow, but it wasn’t all that cold. I said, “I’ve gotta move here, because it’s snowing and it’s not that cold.” Even in Orlando, it would get down to five degrees! When I first went to Orlando, I didn’t take any winter clothing! I had only been there in the summer, when it was so hot and humid. I didn’t have a jacket or long johns or anything! For one of the jobs, I had to be on site at 6 in the morning, so I had to leave at 5 AM when it was six degrees outside. I had to drive 21 miles, and my car had no heat! I called my mom in Nashville and said, “Please send me jacket or a windbreaker or anything I’m freezing!” It gets colder than it ever gets here. That’s why I like it here, it doesn’t get too hot or too cold.

TD: How do you like the live/work model here?

LC: I’ve always loved to live and work in the same place. My commute is 10 seconds, and I don’t have to dress for work! When I first moved to Seattle, I really wanted a loft. The problem was I was only really familiar with Capitol Hill. There’s no lofts up there! If they exist, people just don’t move out. I was looking for studios, and only found one in Pioneer Square. I wasn’t familiar with the area, so I didn’t take it.

TD: How do you feel about the building itself?

LC: I like it here, it’s a big space, high ceilings. I can hang things, decorate it like I want. In some of the lofts, people live there first and have a corner or a section for their art. Some art doesn’t take as much space as others. With my work, I have to have sewing machines and cutting tables and dress forms and supplies, and it’s all got to go somewhere. It’s something like 80% of my space is for business, and 20% for my living area.

TD: Do you have a lot of customers coming to your space?

LC: No, it’s not really conducive to walk-in customers. The people that are coming here know me and know why they are coming. They are coming for a fitting, or I’m making something for them, or they want to buy materials. They get in touch with me through my website and set up an appointment. A lot of the burlesque girls in town buy feathers or trims from me. It’s all word of mouth, too; one found me then it grew.

TD: Is it just you making the skullcaps?

LC: I have a couple of people I can call if the order is really big or I have a short deadline. For the last couple of years, I’ve been working with Multi-Service Center that helps high-school aged teens. I don’t want to say “troubled” teens, but it’s kids that maybe don’t get the support they need from home, that sort of thing.  In the summertime, they find jobs for the kids where they can learn a trade. I’ve had a couple of girls come and help for the summer. The way the program works, I don’t pay them, they are paid by the company that helps place them, through sponsorships and funding.

TD: That sounds like a pretty good deal!

LC: Yeah, the only bad part for me is that they’d want to work certain hours certain days, so I’d have to be available and I’d have to get dressed those days! The girl last year helped me by marking and cutting out the patterns for the skullcaps – I was stocked full at the end of the summer!

TD: How often do you make a headpiece that isn’t part of an order? Do you ever just make one to make one?

LC: For me personally?

TD: Yeah, do you get to do that?

LC: Most of the headpieces I make get made then they are shipped out. If I think about it, I try to get a quick photo I can use for brochures or my mailer. I can’t always use the quick pictures I take, they may not come out great or don’t fit what I’m trying to do. Often customers don’t want me using what I’ve made for them in my publicity. Most of the pieces I have here I’ve made to show or have samples, take pictures for my mailer or my website. Then there’s Halloween, I’ll make these for my Halloween costumes.

TD: What sorts of shows have you done work on recently?

LC: Well, Cirque du Soleil wanted to order some of my caps. I told them I was going to be in Vegas, so we met up and they gave me the behind the scenes tour. They had made some headpieces where the skullcaps were made of plastic or rubber, so they were pretty heavy. They wanted to make them lighter, so they started using my skullcaps.

When I was in Vegas, I saw Bette Midler’s show. One of the costume shops said they used one of my skullcaps for some of the background dancers! My friend works on the show, and gave me the behind the scenes tour. I got to touch my favorite costume from the show!

TD: Is there something that you would like people to know about your work?

LC: When I first came to the building, the lofts were advertised as “Artist’s lofts”. I think what I do is art – I make it with my hands. To me, that’s no different than a painter or sculptor creating something with their hands. I work with cloth instead of clay or paint. I’d like for people that see a show, think beyond, “Oh they can sing and dance.” Look at the costumes and think someone had to come up with them, then someone had to design it, then someone had to figure out how to make them, then you need people to sew them. I’d really like people to think of costumes as an art form.

Lindsey Cunningham is an artist, creator and designer of costumes, headdresses and skull caps for his company, Spotlight Fashions.  He lives and works at the Bemis Building.

‘ Art (of) Work‘ offers an intimate view into the artist’s world.

Photography provided by Matthew Sumi, a Seattle based photographer.  He likes to take beautiful photographs and spend time with family & friends :

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Design by Lisa Berry

Produced by Jenn Morgan

Supported by Bemis Building’s Art Committee

And the Colors of the Past

Interview by Kadence Englehardt

Beverly Gimlin’s textural paintings explore the light and color around her. She is inspired by the dualities of the city/island lifestyle she enjoys here in the Northwest. Gimlin is currently working on a mixed-media series that deals with unexamined issues of a mostly silent past. Here, we discuss how her textural work is connected to her new series by the deep emotions within.

Kadence Englehardt: I love your use of color. It’s so striking.

Beverly Gimlin: Thanks. I consider myself a colorist, and I think everyone else does. But it’s probably one of the hardest things. I get lost with it all the time.

KE: What exactly does that term ‘colorist’ mean?

BG: Well, I don’t even really know. That’s a really good question. I use color a lot, and I investigate it a lot. It’s very important to my work.

KE: When did you first decide that you wanted to work in art?

BG: I took my first painting lesson when I was 14, but I was probably around 21 when I decided I really wanted to pursue it. So, I’ve been doing it for quite awhile.

KE: Have you always been very abstract?

BG: No. I did figurative work and I did paintings that referred to objects; for example, I did a series on doorways and other things. But when I went to grad school, my work evolved into abstraction. I was really influenced by the abstract expressionists. It got me into thinking in abstract terms, and to paint non-objectively. The pieces that are up on my website currently are mainly landscape-based, and I still do those, and I think I will always be interested in landscape and how it informs my work, but I am moving in a little bit of a different direction now. Not because I’m trying to stop doing landscapes, but I’m doing a series where I can choose to incorporate it or not.

KE: Speaking of your website, I saw that you mentioned your “artistic advisers are the centuries of artists who came before you.” Do you happen to have any favorites?

BG: Which decade? <laughs> I’ve been influenced by so many different artists, beginning with early Renaissance, all the way to the present time. When I was in grad school, I was heavily influenced by Gorky and DeKooning. But I actually look at a wide range of artists. Currently, I’m doing mixed-media pieces, and I’m looking at a lot of Eva Hesse. I like her repetition of forms, and I’m trying to use that as an inspiration.

KE: Going back to your inspiration by landscapes, you also mention on your website a very interesting term: “visceral experiences.” How would you describe that to someone?

BG: Because I’m visual, I’m always looking. I get affected by what I’m looking at, and what I’ve looked at a lot is color and light of this particular area. To me, it’s a gut thing – totally instinctual. That’s how I really decide what direction I’m going to go into. I was looking at a lot of water, sunrises, and sunsets because back in those days I was getting up really, really early because I had to. When you see a sunrise every single morning, you notice how different they are: different in the spring, different in the fall, and so on. That’s what I mean by ‘visceral.’ It’s that gut feeling that you get.

KE: Have you always lived in the Pacific Northwest or Seattle-area?

BG: No, I grew up in Oklahoma, left there when I was about 21, and then lived almost 18 years in California: I lived there for both my undergraduate and graduate degrees. It’s different. In Oklahoma, there’s a lot of sun, and obviously in California there’s sun, although there’s not as much sun as people think there is in the Bay-area. My husband and I moved here after our twins were born. We decided that we didn’t really want to raise them in the Bay-area, and I had to be a near a city and he doesn’t really like cities: so we moved to Bainbridge Island. I have the best of both worlds. But, I had a hard time adjusting because light had been such an important part of my work.

KE: Yea, in the winter and fall here, it’s so dark. But, in the summer, it’s light out until like 9:30 at night.

BG: It took me awhile to realize, and I didn’t like it because it was too dark. But then as I started observing it, I realized that the light here is different and quite beautiful in its own way. I had to accept it at first. When I finally resolved that issue, about being here and understanding how to use it, it really played a big part in my paintings and how they began to evolve. Certainly, the weather and the landscape around this area affected my work in a really good way.

KE: Have you always had a separate studio from your home?

BG: When the kids were little, I tried the studio-at-home bit, and it was just difficult. Once they got a little bit older, I got a separate space of my own. I started out in Jackson Street Studios – I was there for 10 years. I moved here [to the Bemis Building] about 3 years ago. This is a fantastic studio. It’s the nicest one I’ve ever had – it even doubles as a place for my family to come if they are in town. It’s been a really great thing.

KE: Do think that the community that encompasses the various studio spaces you’ve had is important to you and your work?

BG: Yes! That’s the main reason why I try to be in a building with other artists. Because most of those people live and work in their studios and they don’t have day jobs, it can be a little difficult to get to know people, but it allows me time to focus. Over at Jackson Street, there was a lot more talking in the hallways and getting to know people, which is also nice, but that’s because they aren’t live-in studios. However, I find that I enjoy the peace-and-quiet here, and the lack of interruptions is nice. I don’t have a whole lot of time when I come here: I need to be focused and efficient. The good news is that I can come here and stay the night for a few nights!

KE: How has your work evolved?

BG: On the website, are three series: the Water series, the Van Gogh series, the Diary of an Island. My Van Gogh series was very much about color again, where I hit one of those rough spots, where I didn’t feel happy with my palette and what was happening. I felt like if I really wanted to understand it, I needed to learn from who I consider to be the greatest colorist: Van Gogh. I started using his palette, which was both challenging and rewarding, but I learned a lot. So, I named the series after him. The Diary of an Island is basically any painting that was inspired by the landscape of living on Bainbridge Island. The Water series was from looking at all the water we have all over the place and the differences in the times of day or the seasons. That whole series was very labor intensive and I haven’t done any of that in a while.

KE: What are you working towards right now?

BG: I’m working on a series right now, which has become somewhat complicated and is more of series within a series. But it is a completely different thing I’m doing.  It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire painting career. And I’ve been painting a long time.

KE: So, this is a pretty big challenge?

BG: It is. Part of it is my trying to do a whole lot of things. I’m a baby boomer and my parents are of the WWII generation. My father fought and my mother, who was British, was part of the British Royal Navy. All my aunts and uncles at one time or another were involved in some way. What happened with that generation though, was that when they came back from the war, they didn’t really talk about it too much. In particular, my parents didn’t really talk about it very much, obviously for good reason – it was very traumatic. The Baby Boomers are known for drugs, sex and Rock’n’Roll – but we are also the sons and daughters of the WWII Generation; something I don’t think anyone has really looked at too much.

KE: How are you looking into this? Historically?

BG: Since both my parents are no longer with us, I decided that I really wanted to find out what was going on: in a historical sense – of course, but I really wanted to trace the steps that my father took. I’ve done a large amount of research, and in that I’m finding the path my father took, the places he fought, and the things he never told me.  This series talks about the history, but more importantly explores the silence.

KE: The silence I’m sure makes things a little bit difficult, to say the least.

BG: Yes, definitely. I’m doing these mixed media pieces, which really represents all of that research I’ve done. The Silence series uses a lot of stripes. I’m using a different palette, new inspiration, and various new medias. It’s taking me a lot of time. Some of the paintings have to be done multiple times to get it right. I’m incorporating my familiar landscapes, but those are coming from imagined places and events or literal descriptions from soldiers who participated. It’s huge and vastly different. I didn’t think it was going to be easy, and I knew it would be a different scope than I’m used to, but I’m definitely still learning. I go back and forth, but I feel like I’m really starting to hit my stride.

KE: How do you plan on incorporating that divergence of the series?

BG: I’m having a show in November, and I think I will group them so that they don’t look like they are completely different ideas. I’m a very focused artist, but I’m never going to be one of those artists that can do 500 variations on the same thing – I would get bored <laughs>.

Beverly Gimlin lives on Bainbridge Island and has a studio in the Bemis Building, which she will be opening for the Spring Show on May 15^th. For more information, please email her at  bgimlin@gmail.com or visit her website.

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CREDITED

Written by Kadence Englehardt.

Art Reproductions provided Jennifer Morgan.

Photography provided by Matthew Sumi, a Seattle based photographer.  He likes to take beautiful photographs and spend time with family & friends.

The Architecture of Building a Community

Interview by Kadence Englehardt

John Gascon is an architect and artist by trade, he is the director of the Ouch My Eye Gallery and owner of Occhio Cafe, but really he’s so much more than that. Newly elected to the SODO Business Association Board, he is concerned with the community of SODO and its relationship with art. Genuinely interested in connecting with people and promoting their emerging talents, this self-described ‘introvert’ is really anything but ordinary.

Kadence Englehardt: Let’s talk about your history.

John Gascon: Specifically, I have a degree in Architecture from the University of Oregon and have been practicing architecture since 2002 when I moved to Seattle to work for a consultant firm.  The work wasn’t very creative so I found myself making furniture in a small carport behind my apartment building, and painting in my living room.  When I moved, I lost my makeshift ‘workshop’ and I needed to find some studio space.  I came upon the 1020 Building through an ad in the paper.

KE: What were you looking for in a studio space?

JG: I was only looking for a couple-hundred square feet for a modest workspace, but ended it up in a 600sf studio…I fell in love with the building, an old warehouse in a unique location next to the stadiums.  I was really trying to push myself creatively, as the architecture work I was doing wasn’t particularly inspiring.  Once I had the studio, I immediately got involved in the community.  I worked with other artists to open up the building for artwalks and get exposure for our creative work, because I didn’t really know how to get into the ‘art scene’.

KE: Yes – that’s definitely difficult! Especially for those who are on the ‘outside’  of the art world…

JG: It is.  It’s a bit of a closed community. So, we decided to build our own community.  During that time I grew frustrated with my corporate work and quit for a year to be a starving artist and work on the community at the 1020 Building.  From that work, I got involved with the Center on Contemporary Art doing some installation work and helping out.  Eventually I was encouraged to join the Board by a friend and got back into architecture at a large Seattle firm.  My involvement with CoCA [Center of Contemporary Art] grew and I was elected President, so I had to step away from what I was doing at the 1020 Building.  We had a lot of great programming at CoCA and I got a lot of younger people with energy involved, like the Young Architects Forum.  We made some improvements to the gallery and worked hard to get attendance up.  We had two or three shows that had over 2,000 patrons.

KE: Wow. That’s really amazing.

JG: Yea, it was a huge amount of people; really, really good. We had some great programming, and a lot of artists to work with during that period. But, it was such an uphill battle for a non-profit organization that was losing funding and a Working Board made up of older personalities that weren’t particularly willing to give of themselves and take risks.

KE: The people on the Board weren’t ready for change?

JG: That and they didn’t’ really have a lot of money or energy to do the work.  Working full-time and managing CoCa eventually burned me out.  I still had my studio in the 1020 Building, so I quit the whole art world involvement for a few months.  In the past, I had worked with a couple of guys who started Ouch My Eye down the street at the Bemis Building.  We had hung art shows together over the years and the space where Ouch My Eye is now became available so I asked them if they wanted to make something out of it with me.

We ended up building a hybrid design studio/photo studio where we would host art shows every once in a while.  I started my own design practice around the same time and we continued producing art shows, but on our own terms.  The goal has been to support artists that weren’t represented and maybe didn’t know how to exhibit their work, or just artists we liked who weren’t getting a lot of press.  It’s grown organically from there….Trying to see how we can cover the costs and make it sustainable.

KE: Do you get grants or some other sort of outside funding? Have you ever done any kind of fundraising?

JG: No, we haven’t done any fundraising and we haven’t taken any money; it’s all self-funded.  It’s pretty crazy and it’s not sustainable long-term.  We recognize that we have to get creative to maintain the gallery, which is why we opened Occhio Café, an attempt to engage our neighbors and the pedestrians walking by.  We also rent the gallery out for private events, which helps cover our costs like maintenance, marketing materials, and the website.  We’ve worked really hard to keep our costs low, and we subsidize the rent through our own personal endeavors.  Michael and Bob, my partners, do photography and graphic design, and I do architecture and design, all of which helps cover the rent.

KE: So, this all sort of started as a personal endeavor, which grew into something much bigger?

JG: I think it’s eventually going to be bigger than all of us.  There’s a pretty big following now, even bigger than I realized.  What’s challenging is that it takes a lot of time and effort, and occasionally we don’t get to devote the time we need to marketing and other things because we are all busy with other projects.  When “Ouch” was just a pet project or something we were doing for fun when we started, it wasn’t that big of a deal.  But because we have more exposure, expectations have gotten to be much higher.

KE: Unfortunately, sometimes you can do all these great things but no one notices until you forget one thing or another. It’s difficult and interesting how other times you can do so much but it goes unnoticed?

JG: Well, especially the press doesn’t realize that this is a self-funded endeavor.

KE: It’s definitely not a corporate thing either.

JG: Most people have no clue that we aren’t a gallery that sells art to cover our costs. We aren’t a non-profit organization that gets funding from outside sources; it’s completely out of our own pockets. Its something we do for the love of doing it. When we don’t get a call-for-artists or press releases out in time, it’s not because  we’re irresponsible. It’s because we are just doing it in our ‘spare’ time.

KE: You said before that you ended up ‘just finding a space here.’ It was all completely by chance and you just ended up liking it?

JG: Yes, it was purely accidental. It was based on looking for cheap studio space but then recognizing the tremendous potential in the neighborhood. Seeing all the artists down here.

KE: It definitely has an art feel, I think.

JG: In this building (1020 Building) alone there are 35 artist studios.  Over the years it’s really improved.  When I first moved into the building, there was a porn studio, a couple of prostitutes, a guy growing weed on the ground floor, and 3 or 4 drug addicts living in the building.  It’s definitely changed for the better and now we have a lot of well-known artists working here. We’ve built a community that people want to be associated with and we are getting people in here that had no idea it even existed. It’s on the radar now and artists that are doing good work want to be a part of it.  We don’t have any of the ‘riff-raff’ in the building anymore.

With the Cafe open, we now have a ‘third place’ for people in the building and neighborhood to meet one another. We’ve resurrected the Open House concept and we are working with the Bemis Building to coordinate with their Spring Show. Over the last 7 years I’ve really grown fond of the potential of the neighborhood and wanting to see it recognized as a cultural center. It will take some time, but the artists are here, its just about exposing them to the public.

KE: I think the general public believes that this area – Pioneer Square, SODO and the areas in between, to be rather seedy. The City of Seattle, though, stands behind evidence that it really has the same crime rate as such “safe” areas as Wallingford. Do you think that kind of advocacy would be good for the area, if the public were to know that?

JG: That’s interesting, because this area is both technically a part of Pioneer Square and SODO. One thing that I’m interested in, is defining the transition between downtown and SODO, which may mean defining this area as its own independent district – it’s really a stadium district. But I’m also interested in branding SODO as a place with its own recognizable identity.

KE: This “declaration of place and identity” is where you see SODO going?

JG: Right now, it’s sort of this large ambiguous area that isn’t recognized as an artists’ community, even though there are probably more artists here than any other neighborhood [in Seattle], because of the cheap rent and so many large spaces to work in. When I say artists, it’s not just painters and sculptors, its metal workers, and craftspeople, and woodworkers. I think it will definitely be interesting to see where it grows as people recognize that…Getting all these different organizations together and working together as a collaborative effort, bringing more notoriety down here; I think it will expose people to the artists that are here.

KE: It’s that collaboration of community, as well as the artists that you’re trying to attract here. Because it’s an ongoing circle of logic: if the artists aren’t here, the people won’t come; and if the people don’t come here, the artists don’t show?

JG: That’s part of it. Another aspect is the businesses that are down here.  A lot of businesses could benefit from the notoriety that the artists’ community brings to their neighborhood. Their concerns are just as important to be heard, especially on a political level. It will help identify the neighborhood, and bring it together in its unique qualities. There isn’t a residential neighborhood down here, so there isn’t a [recognizable] relationship between the artists’ community and the public. There isn’t a lot of push back – there’s no political pushback from neighborhood associations – which means the potential for a lot more freedom. So, I’d like to see that potential developed in the future. I think the real connection to be made is between investment and political ventures and the creative community here. If we can do that within the next few years, trying to engage the artist and business community here, I think we can all really benefit.

KE: How do you feel about the fact that you came to this community accidentally, and in an effort to get involved you’ve sort of morphed into a community leader of sorts?

JG: It’s a little strange, yes. I haven’t painted in so long!

KE: So it’s become your own sort of art?

JG: <laughs> I think there’s a lot of work to be done – I’m interested in that, and I’ve started to really enjoy making connections for other artists and providing a venue for other artists so their work can grow. Having worked with artists 5 or 6 years ago, who now are doing much better work and are getting that recognition, is really fun. It’s definitely interesting that just by accidentally stumbling upon a studio space, I’ve become a community leader…certainly fascinating.  I guess if you were to look at what I was always doing, and what I was always interested in, it’s not much of a surprise.  Yea, I’ve sort of fallen into this role of trying to just be part of the artist community by creating our own…Now what?

John Gascon is the gallery director of Ouch My Eye, owner of Occhio Cafe, and a practicing architect at JAG Design. The current show at Ouch My Eye is Coupling VIII: Matches Made. It is presented in conjunction with students of the University of Washington and will be open through May 6th. Visit the Cafe at 1022 First Ave S.

CREDITED

Michael Clinard is a Seattle based photographer originally from the Southeastern US. Born to an Ecuadorian mother and her Southern Gent in 1979, he cut his teeth on Nintendo, Little League Baseball, and bottle rockets. After developing a taste for Ford Mustangs and his grandmother’s LP’s, he made a couple pit stops–acquiring Bachelors and Masters degrees in Photography and Art History–before settling in the Pacific Northwest in late 2005. When not working in his sketchbooks or cooking dinner for the lady, one can find Mike kicking around town pursuing quirky and conceptual photo assignments.

See Michael Clinard’s work at here, and more of his personality at his blog.

Written by Kadence Englehardt

See beneath the surface with April Surgent

Interview by Jennifer Morgan

April Surgent’s work looks like a photographic painting from afar.  Upon getting closer, the work is glass in a 2-D sculptural form.  She uses a traditional carving process called cameo engraving to discuss contemporary issues about place and identity.

Jenn Morgan: How do you describe your work to people who have never seen it?

April Surgent: In general, I describe my work in 2 ways, the technical aspect and the conceptual aspect.  Conceptually, the work is about place and identity and the relationship between people and places. Technically, my work is low relief cameo engraving, or carving on glass. I remove one layer of color to get to the next layer to make an image.  Cameo engraving is a traditional craft that I am using in a contemporary context.

JM: What does cameo mean?

AS: Cameo means to carve through layers to reveal something underneath, to make a low relief design or image.  In my work, I am carving through white glass to reveal the dark colors below. You know the old school brooches of women’s busts?   They were usually a profile portrait of a woman in white relief on a blue background from the Victorian era.  Its the same technique as that.  They were also carving on conk shells, it doesn’t have to be glass.  It is just to remove a top layer of material to see an underlying layer that creates a low-relief 2D “sculpture”.

JM: What lead you to this process?

AS: 13 years ago, I started off as a glassblower I was seduced by the material and technique. After a few years of that, I started to get frustrated that I could not connect my ideas to the blown glass objects that I was making.  At the time I was doing a lot of printmaking and nearly stopped working with glass all together. I was interested in telling stories through imagery and couldn’t do that how I wanted in glass.  Then I discovered cameo engraving in a short course with Jiri Harcuba in 2003. It seemed to be the thing that I was searching for. Finally I could use the material that I was drawn to and wholly incorporate my ideas.

JM: What is importance of the photograph in your work?

AS: An image caught through the camera lens can record a passing moment. My work is about the passing moment, person and place and how we move in and out of our surroundings. The photograph is an essential part of the compositional structure of the work.

JM: On your website, I read,  “My work is an investigation of the inherent link between person and place.”  And I’ve noticed reflections come up often in your work and even more with this newer work.  What are your thoughts on seeing our image in a reflection?

AS: I really just started focusing on the reflected image in 2009 and made a series of work based on reflected imagery for a show I just had in February.  That body of work is still about person and place but going a bit deeper into the ideas.  I am getting more and more interested in ideas of social and political issues of people and place and different types of economic statuses.  I started taking pictures of shop front windows to capture reflections. Looking at the subjects in these photographs both literally and metaphorically, the subject is reflected on their surroundings and their surroundings reflected on them.

JM:What is the name of that series?

AS: Reflect.  Reflect is a show I had in Feb [2010] and it is also a descriptive word for the body of work.

JM: Do you have a name for the work before?

AS: They are two different story-telling approaches.  I never named the first one.  It was all I had done.  So now I created this body of work and I’m talking to people about it, I need a word to differentiate it from the rest.

JM: So ‘Reflect’ is the first evolution in your work?

AS: Yea

JM: I notice these two different story telling approaches in your work. The first is what I consider, an establishing view.  We as the viewer know what we are looking at and feel as though we are being drawn into the story.  I found a quote on your website “My work is a record of our time as I perceive it to be.”  Tell me about how you see yourself as a storyteller.

AS: I do view myself as a storyteller.  I’m not trying to take pictures and engrave things that are super out of the ordinary or trying to capture things that are crazy or far out – its just everyday things and normal pedestrian life in 21st century America.  I’m really specific about, and I try to get across that my story isn’t necessarily relevant to your story or anybody elses.  I talk a little about my story in the titles of all my pieces but that is as much as I give. Each piece is a very specific story to me, but I’m hoping that when people look at the work, they make up their own ideas about what they are seeing and then relate it to their own lives and stories.

JM: The second story telling approach is so tight that it almost goes abstract, but it doesn’t.  Is that intentional?  Are you trying to keep the image recognizable?  Or are do you see yourself heading into more abstract imagery in the future?

AS: My work, traditionally, has been very recognizable.  And, I, I think this ‘Reflect’ series is a change from that because I was getting frustrated that people just look at the work, see what it is and move on to the next thing without much thought. I didn’t think people were getting what I was trying to say.  So I felt like by making a more complex story people would have to look at it harder to try and figure out what is going on.  I don’t know where its going – to be honest, I just kind of bumble along and wherever the work takes me, it does.  I’ve worked with the same theme of person and place for a really long time so I feel like the underlying concepts are the running theme. Where the imagery takes me is where I follow.

JM: Do you want the images to look recognizable?

AS: Which pieces?

JM: I guess it is the ‘Reflect’ series, but there also the images “Estacio de Franca” and “The Great Market Hall” that are much more abstract, and the viewer might not know what they are, but we definitely do.

AS: I do want people to recognize the imagery. I don’t want it to be so abstract that it looks like circles and triangles on something. But, for the, “Reflect” series – I do want people to have to look a little harder to actually see what is happening. The reflected image series comes from noticing that we often kind of look around and see our environments but don’t actually realize what is happening around us. For me, the more abstracted compositions are a way to make people look and try to figure out what is happening rather then skimming by and thinking. “oh that is just a guy on the street”.  Not to say that I won’t go back to the other work, cuz I like that to.  That is just where I am right now.

JM: You are personally looking deeper into those moments, and into what a person or subject is all about – and, at the same time – requiring your audience to do the same.  I like it.

AS: Yes

JM: I heard a rumor about a show at the Bellevue Arts Museum.

AS: The curator Stefano Catalani approached me about doing a large-scale installation for the Pilchuck gallery at the museum.  He said, “here is this space, I want you to transform it and make something for it.”  Now I’m in the beginning stages of figuring out what I’m doing.  I’ve never done an installation project before, so it’s a little daunting but it is really exciting.  It is both my first installation and first museum show.

JM: Is it correct to think it is going to look like your pieces but on a much bigger scale?

AS: I suppose you’d be correct in saying that. I’m still working things out right now. I am inspired by old mosaic domes in churches that look down onto you. I like seeing the tiles as being mosaic but you know, different. It will be 120 6”x 12” panels.

JM: Does the museum pay for that?

AS: No.  It’s going to be tricky.  I’ve applied for a few grants so we’ll see.  So far I have received a grant from the Bellevue City Council.  My gallery is trying to get sponsorship and BAM will try to get sponsorship.  Its all coming together, but a lot of it is out of pocket.  The idea behind a museum show is that hopefully it will travel to other museums.  When it is done I can take it down and put it in my gallery. They can try to sell it or take it on the road.

JM: And the pieces I saw on the table, are they part of the ‘Reflect’ series?

AS: Yes, they are the last of things I am working on until I move on to the installation full time

JM: They are going out to a show in London right?

AS: It is a show called ‘COLLECT’. 30 galleries from all around Europe come together and show work. Bullseye Gallery in Portland is taking mine and 3 other artists’ work to the show.  Bullseye is the gallery that represents me you can see my work at their website: www.bullseyegallery.com or I have just started a website (still under construction) www.aprilsurgent.com

Credited

Photography by Derek Blagg

Written by Jenn Morgan

Images from the past in a new context.

Interview with Karen Chenkovich by Kadence Englehardt.

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For Karen Chenkovich, a Seattle based artist, the properties of the materials she works with are the most fascinating subject matter. ‘Reallocating’ the images and text from many older volumes, this artist has a sincere love for the past, and sheds light on the forgotten images of its dusty old volumes through a spontaneous, yet structured, process.

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Kadence Englehardt: What’s your background?

Karen Chenkovich: Before I went to college, I was doing a lot of collage work and working with paper. And then when I got to college, I had to pick a focus, and I chose Fiber Arts, an extremely small program at UW, which almost got cut. But I liked that it was a sort of mixed media choice. It’s based on traditional textile mediums, like weaving and screen-printing, but what made it different was that it was treated like a conceptual process just like any other medium. Part of my thesis work was a series of woven pieces, called ‘Woven Gestures’  - I approached the loom with the same mentality and intuition that I would pencil & paper.  My loom was warped with black and off-white thread, and with that I was able to “draw;” I called it ‘spontaneous mark-making.’ There was no pre-conceived idea of what these drawings were going to be. No forethought. It was just an immediate response to the materials and a continuous reaction to the markings made one thread at a time.  It was such a common notion with graphite, that idea of ‘letting go’ but I wanted to try that on a loom, where you can spend hours just setting up to work. It was a contradiction – how can you be spontaneous when the process is so slow? After awhile, I got tired of the loom’s rigid grid system, so I started playing around with silk organza, stitching, and dipping things in wax – fabric actually.

KE: How did your loom work evolve into collage?

KC: In the beginning, I played around with a lot of wood, making paper, cut paper strips, and wire – found materials and putting them into mixed media works. This was the beginning of when I started to use the beeswax, dipping silk organza and then patching it together. I love finding the beauty in every little part – a single stitch can be so visually interesting to me. I’m heading more in the narrative direction now, so there is getting to be more of a conceptualization to it, but I’ll always love that spontaneity. I started working on paper, got rid of the cloth. The progression was the woven fabric of the loom, then I went to paper – stitching on paper, found paper, found markings on paper, applying my own marks to the paper; then I got tired of the pliable plane and the movement, so I moved to panels for a hard surface to work on. I think it was a morph between being completely spontaneous and the story-telling of the narrative – a clean slate without providing any properties of its own. I also still enjoy doing geometric abstractions – I still have a love for very formal shapes and grid systems. I like having the visual language be just that sometimes: a discernable language, one that people have to decide what it means for themselves.

KE: So, you’ve always known that you were interested in art and wanted to be an artist?

KC: I did. I did, for the most part. When I was younger, I was always obsessed with materials. My family is a woodworking and building family, and I think that concept of building; looking at something and seeing how the parts came to a whole. I think that concept was driven into me. And, we didn’t have any real restrictions – I mean, my mom got a little nervous when we started using the power tools, but my dad was there to supervise! We had free reign, so I think that sparked kind of an interest in creative pursuits.  My mom also taught me to sew when I was young, again…..watching ‘parts’ built into a ‘whole’.

KE: Could you say your style of collage is based on that love of spontaneity?

KC: I’m definitely rooted in spontaneity, making unplanned marks, and a physical response to the materials. A little like a lack of process is my process.

KE: Are there any particularly difficult issues you face working in collage, such as copyright laws, inability to find a particular image, etc?

KC: The tricky thing about using found papers or markings and applying my own hand to them, is that it’s reallocating that image from its original context and applying it to my own context. I would never use something very blatant, but I suppose all is relative; I don’t have an interest in the actual image I use, but rather, the whole composition. If I need an ear, I wonder, where can I find an ear? But it’s just about that image working in my context rather than the ear itself.  I have little interest in knowing how to draw one myself, rather I want to work with them.  Sometimes I use words, like out of the dictionary, so I will sometimes point out very concrete things, even in my abstract work…it’s a bit of a contradiction. When I take these images, I don’t think of it as discrediting or defacing the original work. I don’t think of it as a devaluing of the work. There are the purists out there who see collage as a sort of graffiti of sorts.

KE: Does having a place in the Bemis building affect your work?

KC: We haven’t lived here long, but I always used to have a house, where my work was in a separate space or studio. Living here in this big open space, where my work is always with me, it’ll be interesting to see how it affects work. I do feel more attached than when I used to have strict studio times. I do love the character of the building though – there are all sorts of marks and circles in the floors that I find and have an interest in. The business of art and life is hard to balance.

KE: Is there is any particular subject matter that interests you?

KC: I use a lot of found materials – a lot of anatomy. Definitely an interest in the body. I have this series of books from 1903, which are anatomy books that are so intricate. You just don’t find that kind of stuff anymore – the details are incredible in some of the older etchings.

KE: A lot of your work has images of anatomy. Is there a particular reason for that inspiration?

KC: Getting out of college I had some medical issues, which really made me think about how oblivious I was to my body and how it worked, and how I took it for granted. Being faced with that, was a big realization and it peaked my interest in medical images. It turned into this sort of narrative-story-type.

KE: Do some people ever have adverse reactions to your images?

KC: I think a lot of people are afraid of what’s under their skin, so they don’t like images of medical stuff. It’s interesting when people can be repulsed by it, because we all have those parts, I’m just highlighting them.

KE: How does text play a role in your work?

KC: Usually if I choose to use quotes, it’s someone else’s words, but they are the ones that people wouldn’t expect to have been quoted.  I use a lot of text sometimes because I like the look of letters, simple as their own forms. One of my works has a passage from a history book, and it seems very unintentional, which makes it more interesting.

KE: Do you know where to place the texts or images?

KC: Definitely. I don’t really sketch it out, and if I do, it’s really loose. All of that placement happens when I’m working on the piece – in the moment.

KE: What made you want to incorporate the beeswax into your collages?

KC: I think it was the color – it definitely works with the palette I usually use, and that matte finish. I was really attracted to its properties on its own – I don’t really think it was a conceptual reason, more just responding to and using different materials. I still do some collage without it, but I feel like it makes it all come together. When you have layers and layers of tissue-like paper, it really makes it all translucent and cohesive, smashing it all together. It adds an interesting element of compounding imagery. I love the unplanned part, too. I can’t control it, so I’ve even had to throw away some work if it didn’t work.

KE: There seems to be a common color palette in much of your work – sort of an organic feel?

KC: I think there are a lot of colors that can be found in neutrals – black, browns, whites, grays. I find these tones extremely beautiful. That’s why I gravitate toward beeswax, old papers and books, and other elements, because it really completes that palette.

KE: Would you say that a lot of your work possesses a respect for the past or that it is a common thread?

KC: Right now, I’m taking these drop cloths that were my Mom’s uncle’s – he was a painter back in Montana and I’m cutting them up. I love them! They have all these marks, these spontaneous marks, they weren’t thought of at all.  I’m going to come in with some off-white thread, just adding highlights to what exists.  I want to show what I find beautiful in the marks of the past with the marks of now. Giving the past a new context.

KE: How do you incorporate elements of spontaneity and rigidity to your collage work?

KC: Cutting out the images can take a lot of time. The smaller works are more like a visual gesture – they’re so immediate. It’s so easy to take it from my head to the little 5-by-5 panels. The collage part was minimal, but with others it takes MONTHS to cut out the flowers or the bones. They are refreshing, real, and very raw. Sometimes when there’s too much conceptual thought going through it, I get a little bogged down. I think I always like having a little structure, in order to ground me so I can work. The grid system is probably something I’ll never deviate completely from – spontaneity within structure. The square panel provides that to me.

KE: How would you describe your vision for viewers?

KC: I think any material or image or person brings with it its own sort of baggage. Especially recognizable images, when you get into more concrete images, the viewer knows those. This is when the viewer asks a lot more questions – in particular, why is it here? Or how is it connected? I want someone to come to a piece of art, and not be intimidated by it, but embrace their own answers.

Karen Chenkovich lives and works in the Bemis Building. For more information on her work, please email her at kchenkovich@gmail.com

CREDITED

Photography by Jennifer Morgan

The Aesthetics of Decomposition

Interview by Kadence Englehardt. Portrait by Michael Clinard

Kara Higgins is an independent photographer – originally from the East Coast, now lives in Seattle when she’s not working on her art. Though she has lived most of her life in predominantly urban spaces, she finds inspiration is just the opposite: the formerly urbane, but now distressed from being reclaimed by nature. She chases that moment on the open road, is awed by the power of nature and adores nothing more than finding chaos in a world that is constantly orderly.

Kadence Englehardt: Tell me a little about your interests in art creation.

Kara Higgins: I’ve always created art; drawing, sculpture, stained glass, painting, pottery. It always finds a way out of me.

KE: Why is photography a good medium for your interests?

KH: It’s a way of designing what is happening in one moment – the instant. I used to use only film, but I made the transition to digital. I started with a Pentax K1000 and that was indestructible, and now I use a metal frame Nikon. I need something durable, because I can be somewhat hard on materials. I started with more photojournalistic stuff, but I’ve strayed from that human interaction and happenings, and gotten more into the spaces.

KE: What’s your particular vision?

KH: I don’t know if I have a ‘vision’ per se; more of an attraction to design and composition. I find decomposition really aesthetically interesting. I want to do photography in a style that speaks to me, and compose that. It’s somewhat like hide-and-seek: finding the chaos and determining a way to add design and my style in a way that I want to show it. It’s about that moment and capturing it: it’s never repeated.

KE: How do you describe your style?

KH: It depends on what I’m shooting. If I find an abandoned car by the side of the road, I tend to go for the abstract. However, I do take “establishing shots”, starting with a long shot and then move closer to the subject until it becomes an abstract.

KE: What types of subjects are you drawn to?

KH: Anything that speaks to me really, but distressed images in particular. Beauty in ruin: as much as man keeps trying to put his mark on the natural world, nature just keeps kicking his ass. I love to examine that process: how nature is so impenetrable. I just drive and let the road take me there, on our road trips.

KE: Where do you find places where nature is impenetrable?

KH: It really doesn’t take nature long to “go wild”, so a vacant lot that wasn’t interesting in the fall becomes more interesting by spring. Basically, any place that hasn’t had a development boom in the last 5 years has potential.

KE: Why do you take road trips?

KH: Seattle has become very developed; it’s really clean now. But, mostly to just get out on that open road, to find a place that is distressed or decomposing or abandoned. I just get out of the car and wander until I see something: its more about self-discovery. Convertibles are important though – and sunscreen! [laughs]

KE: So, the road trips are your inspiration?

KH: I don’t think the road trips are my inspiration, rather the photography inspires the road trips.

KE: How often do you go on the trips?

KH: Normally we take big ones at least once a year, but we haven’t really been planning anything for the near future as of right now. We usually go to Vegas at least once a year, to visit a friend there, but we didn’t go this year. I’ve really been pining for the open road again, but money’s tight for everyone right now.

KE: What places have you been?

KH: We’ve been all over the place: Greece, England, big cross-country ones. The biggest we’ve done was two-and-a-half months: we drove I-90 from Seattle to Massachusetts, down the east coast to Philly, Savannah, into Florida, stopped in New Orleans – pre-Katrina. I really loved that city: amazing, up to St. Louis, hitting all the little towns that were on the way. Many of them are dying from the lack of river traffic. Then took Route 66 to LA, and back up to Seattle. It was the biggest, and it was great. I think there are only a few states we haven’t visited, but they are rare. Part of the joy of the trips is the open road – I don’t like to go too fast though: over 120, you can’t hear the radio! [laughs]

KE: What type of the trip is most productive for capturing the moment?

KH: The trip that is less structured tends to be the most productive.

KE: So, you capture on the road, and then what do you do with those images?

KH: Not much. Every image I print out is full frame and color accurate. What you see is what was there. No photoshop manipulation. I used to shoot with e100-vs (slide film), which gave me a wonderfully saturated image. Now I’ve “gone digital” so it goes from the camera to the computer to the printer.

KE: Why do you make art?

KH: It’s not about creating, but capturing. I don’t make art, it’s more unconscious. Something grabs me and I just do it – sort of instinctively.

KE: If not art, what do you call the pieces that hang on the wall?

KH: I’d say “my interpretation of life” but that’s way too pretentious. How about, souvenirs of my road trips.

Kara Higgins is based out of the Bemis Building: 55 S Atlantic St, Studio #307. The studio space she shares with Chromium Gothic Studios has a custom gallery space that opens for the annual Bemis Shows, as well as for private showings. For more information, please e-mail her at chromiumgothic@gmail.com

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Credited

Photography by Michael Clinard

Writer. Kadence Englehardt

Design. Sam Angell