(index.php)
LVH in Conversation with the Curator of Le Sirenuse, Silka Rittson-Thomas
Stanley Whitney, The Jitterberg Waltz, 2017, Photo by Roberto Salomone. Courtesy of Le Sirenuse
Le Sirenuse hotel is a testament to the passage of time, shaped by generations of the Sersale family. Originally opened in 1951 when four Neapolitan siblings transformed their Positano summer home into a charming hotel, Le Sirenuse has evolved into a space where history and modernity coexist harmoniously. LVH goes into conversation with Le Sirenuse curator, Silka Rittson-Thomas about the historic hotel’s contemporary art collection.
LVH: Can you tell me about how the collection collaboration with Le Sirenuse began?
SILKA: Antonio Sersale approached me about 10 years ago wanting to acquire contemporary art for La Sirenuse. The hotel itself is a thing of beauty, compelling in its many layered histories and brought to bear over a long period of time. It reflects the exacting sensibilities of the family over generations .
Franco, the founder and father of Antonio, collected exquisite antiquities and artifacts that you see around the hotel today. So it was apparent to me from the beginning that if we did anything to contribute, it had to strike a considered balance between its historicity and its narratives to come. Therefore whichever artist we collaborated with would have to respond to what exists already and be able to tease out contemporary poetics in a way that would honour the past. This led me to think about how we could bring artists to respond to the specifics of the hotel and its exceptional attention to detail – the service, the beauty, the warmth, the familiar energy and to the incredible nature of the Costiera, the hotel being a capsule of intimacy .
The program we have formulated involves many conversations between Antonio and I on the artists I suggest, which is then followed by meetings with artists, their galleries and studio visits
Over a period of time , we have developed a good formula. The artists are invited to stay at the hotel prior to the start of the project , and are immersed in the Sireneuse experience during their visit, returning to their studios with a cache of ideas to work with. We don’t approach the artists with preconceived ideas. The location of the work is something we arrive at organically. The artist finds the spot or the spot finds the artist.
LVH: What approach was taken to merge contemporary art with the historic atmosphere of Le Sirenuse?
SILKA: The process evolved very naturally. I felt that it would be nice to create a program where artists organically respond to the Italian sentiment quite directly. Antonio is an exuberant person with a terrific sense of humour and wit and you see that run through quite a few works at the hotel. There is an air of happiness, laughter and unbridled opulence and yet at the same time it is quiet and private in its own way.
The hotel is really a conversation place. Movements and conversations are always taking place; the family are very engaged with their guests and it is a very intimate feeling. It was important to me to extend the same sentiment with the contemporary art; to retain a sense of permanence, but also constantly evolving. A constant breath of new ideas coming in while retaining its old world solidity and elegance so to speak.
So it is a democratic experiment with a varied lexicon of references in art, always in dialogue with the atmosphere of the hotel.
LVH: What is the process for selecting artworks?
SILKA: In terms of selecting artists, we look at artists from whose work we sense a natural connection to the place, without any overt links to it. There is an undeniable sense of humor and artisanal reference points in all the artists we work with. Everything at Le Sirenuse goes back to conversation and I choose artists that I feel are able to sustain that in interesting ways in their work.
For example, when we first started the collection, I started thinking about Martin and his neons, and how Italy is such a bastion of the neon classically. From the 1920’s onwards, neon was on the Campari advertisements, or streets of Turin, there is neon present everywhere grabbing attention. Antonio and the Sersale family are always energetic and thoughtful, highly attentive about everything, so the neon ‘Don’t Worry’ is a great set up, subtly ameliorating. It was the first multicolor neon that Martin did, and was a beautiful introduction to the collection – during the day you don’t really notice it, and then as night falls it begins to glow.
LVH: How is the cultural and historical context (genius loci) of Positano and the Amalfi Coast taken into consideration when selecting art for the hotel?
SILKA: There are very direct references to the locality. Like with Martin and the neon, the vibrant age old tradition of advertising and marketing in Italy; Caragh Thuring’s work is so direct and humorous with artisanal references. She has traditionally worked with the undercurrent of the broody unknowns of submarines and volcanoes. Her fabric work for example is a direct link- the piece is made from an existing fabric she had, woven in Suffolk, but it is based on a tile that she had found in a monastery somewhere outside of Naples. This recreation of the volcano imagery is absurd because there is a volcano spitting out, while a sailboat sails calmly underneath. Then you have these figures, resembling the old Vesuvian postcards, where people admire and explore the volcano, while it is erupting! It’s completely nonsensical, but also humorous. Caragh picked her spot and rearranged the room with Antonio. What I love is the insertion of these gesso paintings into the folds of the bar, which then extends that absurdist humor, where one volcano looks like a sprig of rosemary, referencing the wild herbs and cuisine of the region. It became it’s own unit of witty playfulness.
Matt Connors is another wonderful example. For his panels he dissected all the colors in the hotel. I think there are about 96 different colors in those panels. But then the surface is Formica, which is a typical Italian kitchen surface. It is a very 60’s material; robust and traditional to Italian kitchen craftsmanship. Lucy Stein, who made the menus for Aldo’s bar, references the mystic siren very playfully. She depicts various moods of a siren, from mischievous to angry, to a cheeky one with a cocktail.
Alex Israel’s mural is a direct reference to the glamour of Amalfi and the Dolce Vita. This one I love because it is an instant juxtaposition between reveries of Hollywood and the fantasy of the Amalfi Coast. The play of the palms, and the vegetation of Le Sirenuse is so specific and so special as though a mirage. Rita (Ackerman) does not want to reveal too much about the two female figures in her paintings, but you have the sun bursting out of the hearts of these Siren like women, capturing them, trying to catch them, in a very mystical way. Stanley Whitney’s work was an obvious choice because his work is so akin to the squares of the tiles. The tiles are such an important element, not just at the Le Sirenuse, but on the Amalfi Coast. Every tile in the hotel is made from local makers. I love the musicality and the dance of the (Stanley) tiles – the work is aptly titled The Jitterberg Waltz, a title also alluring to the I Galli Island, formerly the residence of Léonide Massine and later Rudolf Nureyev
LVH: The Nicolas Party pool is the latest installation. Can you tell us about the collaboration? What is the inspiration and dialogue between the pool and its location on the Amalfi Coast.
SILKA: We began the conversation with Nicolas Party right when COVID hit, so overall the pool has been four to five years in the making. Nicolas doesn’t shy away from exploring materials, for example in the past he has worked with bronze and marbling techniques using varied forms of craftsmanship. Although he had not yet experimented with mosaics before, it fit his practice so well. The pool was ready for a redo and it was the perfect timing for this to fall into place. Nicolas is the only artist where the project had a very specific brief to work on and a very defined space.
He really loves to collaborate with the craftsmen. The mosaic tiles were chosen with great care as a reference to the Pompeii and Roman histories, therefore locating a strong link with traditional artisanship in the contemporary. His relationship with the tile makers was a dynamic back and forth, as he had to arrange the pixels exactly the way that he felt was right with the color ranges he had in mind according to the Bisazza tiles.
LVH: What is the process behind acquiring artworks for Le Sirenuse?
SILKA: Every work for Le Sirenuse is specially commissioned. This is possible because of my long term working relationships with the artists and their galleries. This is an area that requires a great deal of trust on both sides. Most artists we work with have defined practices but they are also open to collaboration and experimentation; site specificity is as important to them as it is to us. In this there is a risk we take on both sides. The artist leaves once the work is done, the location is remote, and the works are permanent as we do not rotate the works. The acquisitions of the works are really about the relationships we enjoy and hope the hotel guests do in turn.
In Conversation With Rising Star Pam Evelyn
Pam Evelyn is a London-based painter. A recent graduate from the Royal College of Art, unpredictable, shifting patterns spreading across her canvases have sparked interest from major international galleries.
With a unique approach to abstraction that draws inspiration from landscape to figurative imagery, Evelyn’s remarkable self-reflection and frankness build layers onto monumental canvases.
Although the young artist draws inspiration from masters like Turner and Courbet, the originality of her works stems from a deep sense of curiosity and inquisition of her surroundings and her psyche. Earlier this month, we sat down with Pam to take a deeper dive into her approach when painting and explore her thoughts on the contemporary art scene.
LVH: Your work refuses to be labelled in just one category; they could be abstract, figurative or landscape. Do you think contemporary painting can even be defined by these broad categories, given that the lines between genres and styles have become so blurred?
PE: I think artists have always been stubborn with labels or categories. I have been reading Jennifer Higgies’ book ‘The Other Side: A Journey into Women, Art and the Spirit World’, and she uncovers many mischievous unorthodox makers that were impossible to categorise or who were simply unfashionable to include. The terms have uses but would inhibit any painter if taken too literally.
You can’t help but make a reference as soon as your hand makes a mark. Painting is dense with history; it is fundamental to human evolution. Even after just one day in the studio, the results can lead you to indulge and go off on many tangents. Mediating between play and awareness is how painting can transcend its formal qualities. Although sometimes you feel like banging your head against a wall, you find a realisation in the work that goes beyond a category or style.
It is about critical awareness. I really value self doubt- it can be a tricky place to occupy but I think any “style” of painting, or attitude, is lifeless when lacking conviction as well as self criticism. And you see less and less criticism in art writing. The pressures from the market encourage this almost estate agent attitude to paintings, like it’s some sort of production line. You can see the paintings that cater to this.
LVH: You are an active user of Instagram, which seems to be an important tool for many young painters these days. How has your relationship to social media shaped the early stages of developing your career?
PE: During covid, social media was crucial as I wasn’t in London- because of instagram my conversation with other painters wasn’t severed completely. Now, I use it more to see what shows are happening around London and also to stay in touch with artists in more remote locations. I haven’t been posting on it as much as I did before; I needed a break. I was able to slow down on my social presence and this is just as important, in protecting the studio.
I met Russell and Rob from TalkArt through instagram, and from this we did an episode together. I had been a bit of a hermit, but they stirred enthusiasm in the studio. They are inquisitive and considered. Last week I had Russell over in my London studio. He has a real way of looking, observing followed by comments or questions that activate everything. Instagram does have unavoidable importance, but the phone is turned off when I am painting. It can be very attractive when the canvas gets tricky, but I also see it as a huge disadvantage. It is noticeable when a painting has been rushed, or lacks real investigation and focus.
LVH: Your paintings are large-scale and often exist across multiple panels. You have mentioned that while you paint, you will switch the panels around or even remove them, almost as an act of “self-sabotage”. Why do you think that the act of destruction is key to your process of creation?
PE: Unfortunately I do have to go through long periods where my work needs resuscitating or salvaging. I try to avoid doing this every time, and always feel like there is no hope when it happens. It’s an internal and external struggle. It sometimes feels like grasping in the dark. It’s when I come out of this testing period with the painting that I realise the significance. Eventually painters become very precise – painters in their fifties upwards can hold this unnerving directness; an unquivering application. I see this when I look at Alex Katz. Other painters can have it at a young age – Helen Frankenthaler possesses a bold touch. Same goes for Tim Stoner, a London-based painter whose shows have always been significant. These painters dedicated their life to arrive with such precision and determination. And while I aim for this, I also like to trip myself up. It can’t feel too easy, the struggle and chase is also what makes it so painfully irresistible.
LVH: As one of the central figures in the newest generation of London painters, what do you think is inspiring young artists in Britain the most these days?
PE: It is interesting, the climate for young artists is tough. We pay for our education amidst a living crisis and art education is largely becoming more corporate and career focused. Yet painting is back. I like to think that there is resistance and a hunger in my generation to use painting that elicits raw, unedited, sensitive, poetic and vulnerable states. While everything is being airbrushed and has a face lift, painting encourages the absolute opposite. Creating quiet or loud reactions like this in the world is culturally and politically important. In paint anything can happen – as de Kooning said to Philip Guston, “there are no rules”.
LVH: What has been your experience navigating opportunities post-graduation? Do you have any plans to be represented by a gallery?
PE: There has been a lot of interest and this didn’t come overnight. This has been so significant in motivating me to continue and take more risks. I have been prioritising the studio- keeping studio visits minimal as I adjust and nurture a focus that I avoid disrupting. I have a show coming up in September with Pace London. Currently I am not represented by a gallery but exciting conversations are going on.
LVH: You have a solo show at Pace Gallery this September in London, can you speak about this exhibition and the motivation behind it?
PE: To be ambitious, indulge and to allow the paintings to emotionally expand. The paintings that will feature in the show have been made over nine months, some during my time in Anchor Studio Newlyn and recently in my London studio. It has been a very intense period of painting. During my time in Anchor I did not have any shows lined up, so I was making a large body of work to see where I could take things. During this time, painters like Turner, Courbet, Bridget Riley and Alfred Wallace were all references I often turned to. Each painter contained nature within their mark very distinctly, and you could see how the sea enchanted out these visions.
Now I find myself back in London where I sit within the white walls of my studio. The painting caves in on itself. The once expansive notes drawn when looking out at the world change in nature. They become more psychological, more in touch with the paintings’ own reality and physics. It commands itself- a personality is formed from within and built upon. The white walls offer little interaction or distraction. I find myself alone caught up in emblematic self realised forms.
‘Hidden Scene’ is a key painting that has informed the Pace show. It holds an awkwardness- I became fascinated with disruption in communications, relationships and views. This painting offers little resolution. Instead, the panels hide and disrupt a totality of a painting. I like to think this makes anyone looking realise that painting isn’t all about finding answers and presenting them. Hidden in every decision are more questions. I also noticed that within great gaps, the imagination runs riot. Lines of enquiry tease and entice the inquisitive, restless mind. Voids in life are uncomfortable and our instinct is to inform and fill for some sense of sanity, and Hidden Scene sits stubbornly in between.
LVH: Do you have any other projects in 2023 lined up?
PE: My main priority is taking long periods with the work in the studio while potential projects are being discussed.
Pam’s solo show at Pace Gallery, London will open this September.
LVH in Conversation with Mariana Oushiro
Mariana Oushiro’s pictorial language is rooted in the choreography of movement and shaped by the artist’s ability to remain exquisitely in tune with her own subconscious.
Her gestural marks are powerful but intimate, with the flow of each stroke revealing a simultaneously cerebral and intuitive approach to line, colour, and composition. Oushiro draws inspiration from elements of the natural world and her belief in a higher natural order. In conjuring her paintings, she draws upon her impressions of the topographies of agricultural landscapes in Brazil, the sensation of buoyancy in water, sacred geometries, architecture, and science. Her family’s heritage, originating in Japan and Brazil, informs her philosophical and aesthetic frameworks, and has shaped the development of her artistic language as an idiom of abstraction.
LVH: When you begin working on a piece, you often lay the canvas on the ground, allowing yourself to step and kneel onto it, even using your hands to paint instead of a brush. How did such a physical and tactile approach to painting come about?
MO: Comes naturally. It’s a pattern in me. I just start and the lines start to match the geometry I need to see. All I have to do is to meet the path where it’s at, I just see it, and I follow what I see. And the steps and the marks are my hands are the guides: if my parks are matching the gestures of my walking and hand path, I know it’s going in the right direction and If I don’t see it, I don’t even start. It’s not my day!
LVH: You were born in São Gotardo, Brazil, but now live and work in New York City. What was it about the city that inspired you to make that move? Do you find inspiration from the geography around you?
MO: New York is supported, it’s vital to support. It’s energy that vitalizes my fire and consequently my creation. Its instincts that bought me here: as a creative, you look for a safe place to plant your seed and a place you know consciously or unconsciously that will be nurturing in every way. Here I am exposed to the glory of motion and that feeds me. The energy and movement are everything my own energy and paintings are about it: movement. So I dance on my mind with the rhythms of the balance of feeling in a natural habitat and that’s my raw material, my go to the floor and start to paint. So when they say I paint to fast I have to give half of the credit to New York. the rhythm of the movement I paint and live in is the name of the maestro. New York is the composer I am the instrument, the player is wholesome of the universe!
LVH: We are excited to have you included in our upcoming exhibition, ‘Women in Abstraction’, which will bring together 15 female artists, each offering their own interpretation of the genre of abstraction. You’ve noted that recently you’ve tried to move away from painting instinctively, in favor of a more conscious, pre-planned mode of construction. Why is this?
MO: Very good question. I needed to try to conclude my experience of painting because there were never words after and it’s so beyond beautiful I wanted to share! To be able to tell people all about it, I tried to grasp the experience by experimenting pre-planned constriction of the light I see when painting based on past experiences- so for example I would try to mimic what I just did naturally on another painting but now planning. and while I am working on putting these same traces together so very much similar in a way and yet out of life all was in vain…. I could never find words.. but I am glad I tried for I found a lesson instead! The lesson is that offering is a thing of far greater value- take nothing in return. Be a light that chooses not to be tamed. No conclusion or consciousness will meet the light. This is the truth of the fire. Thank for these questions! And yes! I am part of this show and so very excited to see what Hong Kong will think about it. I am looking forward.
LVH: What’s next for you in 2023?
MO: Next is BRAZIL. I am flying on Monday for SP art week, I will have one painting there and then stay in São Paulo to prepare for my solo show there! It’s a beautiful space that many years ago I remember walking in and thinking: wow! One day I will be here. And now I am!
WHAT’S UP/ HONG KONG ‘Women in Abstraction’
is on view between 20.03.2023 – 25.03.2023
at 6/F Pedder Building, Hong Kong
In Conversation with Lorenzo Amos
This month we sat down with 22 year old artist Lorenzo Amos, who recently debuted his first solo exhibition at Gratin in New York City.
During our conversation, Amos opened up about his new show, his transition from Italy back to NYC, and how he channels his surroundings with authenticity to craft his own unique world. His work reflects his personal journey, incorporating elements from his portraiture phase, his deep connection to music, a fascination with mark-making, and a lasting admiration for Van Gogh.
His exhibition at Gratin Gallery, No Regrets Because You’re My Sunshine—a title he discusses in the interview—is currently on view and will run until December 19th.
LVH: Your most recent show at Gratin in NYC shares your focus on exploring your immediate surroundings. Could you elaborate on this and how your style or subject matter has evolved over time?
LORENZO AMOS: So in the beginning, my work was all about portraiture. I studied Lucian Freud and Rembrandt, but it felt disconnected from my own experience. After moving back to New York, I began to reevaluate my approach. There’s a quote by Martin Wong, who’s really inspirational to me – “Everything I paint is within four blocks of where I live, and the people are the people I know and see all the time.” And there’s a song by the band The Oblivions called “Live the Life,” which is all about living the life you sing about in your songs. These are all the things I’ve been thinking about a lot for the recent show (at Gratin) and, more generally, as well. I realised I didn’t want or need to go out into the world to figure out what to paint – I have everything here. It’s a very small, compact space, but this is what interests me. This is who I am. This is what I want to show people, especially for my first show.
LVH: How did your transition from Milan to NYC inspire and impact your work?
LORENZO AMOS: My work has changed massively, but there are still aspects of my time in Italy that are visible in my work. In Milan, and in Italy in general, I got to go see a lot of incredible Italian masterworks, like Giotto’s paintings in the church of San Francesco. Actually, I came across a beautiful image in a manuscript once—this tender depiction of two people hugging, which I actually directly referenced in my show in the work The Lovers (Blue Period), 2024. You can also still see the influence of Italy in my colour palette, as I use a lot of colours that were popular in mediaeval or Renaissance times, like lapis lazuli.
In Italy, I didn’t really encounter much contemporary or modern art, but now I’m really heading in that direction, exploring more abstract and contemporary works. Which is where New York comes in. New York is buzzing with energy. New York has so many characters and there is the contemporary art world here. Italy has this heavy history, while New York’s history is the people that have come to the city.
LVH: Some of your paintings are titled after song titles. What if your relationship to music?
LORENZO AMOS: Music is my big thing. I want to be a musician, but I’m not good at it, so I stuck to art instead. I still take weekly guitar lessons, listen to a lot of music and in general really appreciate lyrics. I write some poetry and I am currently making these poem paintings. Some of my titles come from songs as well, like I Love You But You’re Green (After Vincent) (2024), which is from a Pete Doherty song.
What I’ve looked at is the world of music—the lifestyles, the characters. I paint a lot of musicians too. Every single person I’ve painted represents something about being an artist in some way. Most of the time, they’re professional artists, and that’s what I admire and try to represent.
LVH: Many of your recent works feature people with tattoos. What is it about tattoos that draws you in, and why do they fascinate you as a subject?
LORENZO AMOS: I like painting people with tattoos. I love objects, patterns, and things like carpets and bricks. I enjoy repetition, painting something five or six times until I can really familiarise myself with it. I like marking the walls, leaving a statement like, “I was here. I’m human. I’m a caveman” and tattoos have a similar feel.
Over the years, I’ve been getting a lot more tattoos. When I paint my friends, I often paint them multiple times, and they usually have new tattoos. So I guess I also like the idea of tattoos representing the passage of time.
LVH: Could you tell us about your work No Regrets Because You’re My Sunshine (2024) and its significance as the title of your show at Gratin Gallery?
LORENZO AMOS: The name of the show comes from my friend, Alexander Wolosynski. He’s an older brother figure to me: he’s a tattoo artist, and he doesn’t stay in one place for long. In fact, he hasn’t lived anywhere for more than a month or two over the past 10 years. He’s an incredible artist, very emotional and deeply talented. He’s done some amazing tattoos, and I usually only paint the people that he tattoos. For the past month, he was working out of my studio. Every day around 4 or 5 p.m., he’d show up, and we’d have all these characters coming in to get tattooed. One day, he posted something on his Instagram story—something like, “No regrets, because you’re my sunset.” That really struck me for some reason. He’s someone who fully lives his life, no holding back, and I really admire that. It’s the kind of life I aspire to live. And, you know, then I guess “no regrets, because you’re my sunset” sort of evolved into “no regrets, because you’re my sunshine.”
LVH: I Love You But You’re Green (After Vincent), 2024 and Sorrow (After Vincent), 2024 make direct references to Vincent van Gogh. Can you talk about how van Gogh influences your art?
LORENZO AMOS: He’s my favourite artist of all time. He’s the realist artist. He was just a miserable guy, and painting was the only thing that could save him and make him feel complete. I’ve read his letters to his brother, where he begs for money so many times. It’s not just the honesty in his letters, where he acknowledges his need to paint, but it is also the way he paints in the most unpretentious, humble, amazing way that resonates with me a lot. He paints all these landscapes, his home, interiors, boots, his chair, because there’s nobody around. He wants to paint people, and he keeps talking about it. His paintings are so humble and that’s how I want to paint.
In Conversation with Leonardo Meoni
Florence born artist Leonardo Meoni (b.1994) explores the dynamic relationship between creation and destruction, what is concealed and what can be revealed through his images and mediums.
Meoni’s technique does not involve adding or subtracting material, but instead focuses on manipulating the fibers to reveal or conceal elements, creating ambiguity and fluidity between creative and destructive forces. The concept of borders is central to his work. The marks made on velvet exist in a liminal space, shifting between presence and absence. His work questions the boundaries between light, shadow, and imagery, challenging viewers to look beyond the surface.
LVH Art: How does the material velvet hold significance to you?
Leonardo Meoni: Velvet itself is not so significant for me. Actually I believe that this material is more of a frustration. It is difficult for it to be discovered, it is rare for a painting to arrive immediately without being cancelled at least 3/4 times. What is especially interesting to me is the way velvet can obscure and reveal, which mirrors my themes of concealment, removal, and revelation. Velvet allows you to bring to a higher level of ambiguity because it absorbs light and even sounds.
Velvet is linked to where I have my studio, Prato. Prato has somehow always been linked to fabric: used clothes and other fabrics arrived in Prato from all over the world and took on a new life and form. Foreign objects were often found within these shipments of fabric, such as American dollars, incense sticks from India, seashells, etc. Prato becomes a sort of ethnological museum inside the textile factories. All these foreign influences have travelled to Prato and into my works. This idea of giving something discarded a second chance strongly goes with my approach to both velvet and the images I work with, where I often reveal hidden or forgotten stories.
LVH Art: What is the connection between your mediums and your imagery?
Leonardo Meoni: The images or shapes I choose are in an intrinsic dialogue with the material. When depicted in velvet, the images become almost sculptural. The static images are always related to movement: I often depict things that have been moved from one place to another, or destroyed to be rebuilt in a new form.
LVH Art: How do you select the images and references you depict?
Leonardo Meoni: I often select images based on stories or from archives I’ve built over time. In the beginning of my work, I was (and still am) fascinated by markings, drawings, and other traces – intentional or unintentional – on new and historical walls, pavements, building facades etc. A lot of those museums were ones I worked in during my early twenties in Florence. I’m drawn to the idea of obscured or removed figures, like the destroyed or relocated statues. I once painted an oven-hut that I read about in an article. This nomadic South American tribe rebuilt a new oven every time they moved, and left the old oven in the previous place. The title of the work is ‘Temporary oven’. The process of choosing an image isn’t always straightforward, often it’s spontaneous.
LVH Art: Are there conversations today that are informing your image and motif selection?
Leonardo Meoni: Yes. I think a lot about hidden and obscure truths in society, both past and present. Conversations around political movements, cultural history, and the way images are manipulated or erased play a huge role in my art. I also explore more intimate ideas of concealment, like the way certain truths remain hidden in personal and collective memory. Recently, I was intrigued by a legal case involving a Danish circus act called the “dancing ducks.” The ducks appeared to dance to music, but it was later revealed that they were forced to move quickly on a hot metal plate, driven by pain. Basically the case fascinates me as an example of illusion and concealment.
LVH Art: You live in Florence. Could you tell us if and how your connection with Italian heritage has informed your identity as an artist and the work you create?
Leonardo Meoni: Italy is like an attic full of ancient objects. You have to learn to appreciate the importance of these objects. The objects relate to stories, facts. We know, however, that attics are also obscure and undiscovered. Therefore, being an artist in Italy is not an easy job, you carry this attic on your shoulders.
LVH Art: You recently had an exhibition at the Stefano Bardini Museum in Florence, and you worked at that museum in your early twenties. How was the experience to have your works alongside walls you spent so much time with? In what ways do you think your previous work experiences inspired your practice?
Leonardo Meoni: The most rewarding part of working in these museums was uncovering subtle details, like how worms had damaged wooden objects or how frescoes had been restored in different ways over time. This inspired my recent exhibition at the Bardini Museum, titled ‘Gli altri colori sono tutti caduti’, was a line from Cesare Brandi’s text on fresco restoration. When fragments fall from a fresco, they expose what lies beneath, and this hidden layer is just as significant as the surface. This became a way for me to explore themes of inside versus outside, what is visible and what remains concealed.
LVH: Are you experimenting with any new mediums in your practice?
LEO: Yes, recently I’ve been experimenting with glass. It has a certain fragility and ability to obscure and reveal. I’m particularly drawn to how dust or dirt on glass can alter perception, much like the tactile quality of velvet. I am always working inside the idea of a self portrait, but with different materials. Self portrait in this context doesn’t mean that you represent yourself, but rather your point of view.
LVH Art: What is next for you?
Leonardo Meoni: I have an upcoming exhibition in a museum in Pienza. In 2025, I will have a show at Amanita gallery in New York City and also a solo show at a new foundation called the Fondazione Bonollo. I am looking forward to a lot of traveling, time to read books and develop my research.
In Conversation with Kristy M Chan
Kristy M Chan is a talented artist who was born in Hong Kong in 1997 and currently splits her time between London and her hometown. Her artwork is deeply rooted in observation, drawing inspiration from her experiences of migration and displacement, as well as the many cultural differences she has encountered in her travels.
One of the defining characteristics of Chan’s work is its consciously absurdist and satirical temperament. Her pieces often feature surreal elements and vividly bright colours, creating a kaleidoscopic effect that mirrors the dizzying cadence of contemporary life. Through her use of oil and oil sticks, she synthesizes together the dissonant, adventitious, and sometimes surreal junctures she experiences. Chan’s work is heavily influenced by her experiences of trying to find a sense of home while moving between, and originating from, differing cultural geographies. Her paintings are densely built-up and depart from her own experiences of navigating cultural differences, often incorporating vibrant colours that reflect her own unique perspective. Overall, Kristy M Chan’s work is a compelling exploration of cultural differences, migration, and displacement, all brought to life through her unique and vivid artistic style.
LVH: You split your time between Hong Kong and London. Could you tell us about how your connection to Eastern and Western cultures has informed your identity as an artist and the work you create?
KC: It’s probably the appreciation for both cultures that have shaped me and my work. From the nuances in how people converse, and the differences between British and Cantonese humour, to my various failures in translating silly jokes. All these social interactions largely inform the concept of many pieces. I often give a Cantonese or Chinese title to the work I make in Hong Kong as a way of connecting with where I grew up in the past and present.
LVH: The art world has become entwined with social media in recent years. How do you approach being an artist in our digital age and how do you navigate building an audience online?
KC: I go online only for entertainment, reels and whatnot, I’m slightly addicted to them, but it should end there. It’s much more rewarding to see shows in person. Physical objects and film give so much more when they are seen and experienced in the flesh. Perhaps being a painter makes me appreciate the tactility of things a bit more too. In terms of building an audience online, all artists have different approaches. I think we all tend to show a bit of our personality and what we like. I tend to share works in progress, other artists’ works that I like and an occasional meme.
LVH: Throughout your career, your work has oscillated between the genres of figuration and abstraction. How do you navigate this transition? Do you feel like you can fully embrace the two genres?
KC: The transition came quite naturally. My figures were getting progressively more abstract at the end of 2021. It suddenly felt much more genuine and expressive when I painted abstractly. I was paying more attention to the painterly aspects and the time spent with the canvas felt increasingly substantial. Now, I paint abstractly with a figurative image in mind.
LVH: You’ve previously mentioned your fascination with the experimental techniques of German painters, such as Sigmar Polke. How has this informed your own relationship with experimenting with materials?
KC: I’ve been using some photochromic pigments which react to UV light. I’ve also used creatine and blood in other paintings, but I’m hoping to try experimenting with more reactive chemical materials in 2023/4.
LVH: Your most recent works explore the themes of the excess and overindulgence of contemporary urban life and behavior. What inspired this?
KC: That came from my very indulgent summer in 2022. I decided to spend most of my summer in London and pretty much said yes to anything that mildly suggested fun. It was great but I find myself constantly chasing for the next high and struggled to enjoy downtime. It got me thinking about our margins versus societal definitions of overindulgence. I’d also like to think it was a successful attempt at materialising and drawing a line under certain things I was wrestling with.
LVH: What’s next for you in 2023?
KC: I’ve got a few group shows lined up around Asia and Europe, and I’m looking forward to working at the Beecher Residency in November.
WHAT’S UP/ HONG KONG ‘Women in Abstraction’
is on view between 20.03.2023 – 25.03.2023
at 6/F Pedder Building, Hong Kong
In Conversation with Emanuel de Carvalho
London-based painter Emanuel de Carvalho has not had the most traditional journey to becoming an artist. He began his career in the medical field, first obtaining a Doctorate Degree (PhD) in Medicine from the University of Amsterdam and then postgraduate studies in neuro-ophthalmology at University College London.
His unique approach as an artist is deeply rooted in investigation, no doubt ingrained from his rigorous medical studies.
Through his work, De Carvalho aims to challenge and question the structures of vision, presenting an alternative perspective that extends beyond conventional notions of representation. His work is deeply rooted in engagement with philosophical texts on sexuality and gender, medicalisation, institutional power, disidentification, anarchy and human consciousness, with particular emphasis on the works of Michel Foucault, José Esteban Muñoz, Catherine Malabou, António Damásio and Kathy Acker.
This month, we sat down with Emanuel to discuss his recent group show with Hauser & Wirth, his upcoming solo show in London and how his move from science into painting has informed his creative approach.
LVH: Was becoming an artist something you always considered or was it later on, after completing your medical studies, that you decided toswitch careers?
EDC: My trajectory is indeed unusual, but I prefer to view it as a personal journey of discovery. There was a time when medicine was my primary focus; however, during that period, I was also engaged in fictional writing and drawing. I do not perceive medicine and an artistic practice as entirely disjointed; rather, I became an artist because I felt compelled to explore an alternative research output through painting and sculpture, one that would incorporate knowledge from other fields of thought, mostly philosophy. I am afraid medicine does not offer all the answers.
LVH: Have your medical studies informed any part of your creative practice?
EDC: I studied the human brain, specifically focusing on visual and cognitive processing. I have also seen patients whose perceptual responses are abnormal due to pathological processes. When faced with this, you can’t help but wonder about reality and the structures that dictate our thought process. I started questioning everything, dissecting my very own negative associations in the context of my own environment and upbringing. I learnt that Michel Foucault talks extensively about this, the individual process of reflection as a way to find your own moral code.
In my work, compositions feature unconventional orientations, colours are muted, reminiscent of urban environments, human figures are depicted in isolation, engulfed by architectural forms, and there are vacant spaces seemingly beyond reach. These elements collectively allude to aspects of human cognitive and visual processing. Disruption as a vehicle to raise awareness.
LVH: There has been fast momentum to your career since graduating from the RCA last year. How have you navigated incoming opportunities? Did you feel pressure to join a gallery?
EDC: I have been fortunate to exhibit my work across various platforms and countries. I am keenly aware of the importance of proceeding cautiously and thoughtfully, making decisions that are well-structured and deliberate. It is crucial to invest time in defining a focus, understanding one’s objectives, and collaborating with individuals who share a similar vision. Personally, I value having a theoretical framework to guide my approach to work, although I acknowledge that this can sometimes pose challenges, especially when collaborating with galleries. However, I have observed a growing interest in research-driven practices, even within the realm of painting.
LVH: Your work is deeply rooted in engagement with philosophical texts. I’m curious why you think these texts serve as such a strong source of inspiration for you? How do you go about transforming the written word into a purely visual medium?
EDC: My approach to philosophy is that of a consumer, offering an alternative route to analysing what is happening in society. It is a way of dissecting the reasons behind my beliefs. For instance, the philosopher Michel Foucault talks about the power of institutional structures in moral code, stating that one can only be aware of this influence but cannot escape it. Catherine Malabou, known for applying neurological principles in philosophical theories, proposes an alternative view, in which the human brain is seen as a ‘plastic’ entity, constantly in flux and capable of change. I am not certain she would agree, but I believe this is a positive and optimistic view on the power of the individual.
In my works, I often respond to very specific concepts in philosophy and medicine, translating a text into the language of painting or sculpture. For example, institutional power is depicted by the use of geometrical shapes, reminiscent of logos of corporations. Other times, the reference to philosophy is more subdued and personal. I depict a narrative that is deemed as a significant moment of change or reflection (askesis in the words of Michel Foucault).
LVH: You are currently part of a group show at Hauser & Wirth Somerset, titled ‘Present Tense’. How did this come about given that you are not represented by H&W?
EDC: Present Tense brings together a group of young artists living and working in the United Kingdom. I share a sense of community and values with many of the exhibited artists, and I believe this to be main intent of the show: to give a platform to practices that respond to what is happening in society at the present time. I have been working on a reading circle session with the Learning team at Hauser & Wirth where I discuss my work in relation to the work of Kathy Acker, Antonio Damasio and Michel Foucault.
LVH: You have an upcoming solo show in London with Gathering. Could you speak about the focus for this exhibition? What other projects do you have on the horizon?
EDC: The show at Gathering, titled ‘code new state’, will present a new series of monumental paintings alongside two sculptural installations. The works reflect on perception as a neurobiological construct and explore the concept of plasticity, as described by the philosopher Catherine Malabou. It will act as the first iteration of a future collaboration with Malabou and the UCL Professor of Neurology, Parashkev Nachev.
The compositions and sculptures are characterised by subtle distortions of perspective and depth, and create a sense of unreality and discomfort. I would like to think of this show as a vehicle to raise awareness to perception.
LVH in Conversation with A’Driane Nieves
A’Driane Nieves is a former member of the U.S. Air Force and the creator of an art magazine and an art nonprofit organization.
Nieves began painting on her own around ten years ago as a form of art therapy in 2011 while recovering from postpartum depression and after being later diagnosed with bipolar disorder, at the advice of her therapist. She used abstract expressionist painting as a means of overcoming the traumas of childhood abuse, particularly emotional repression, because of her earliest experiments. Nieves’ paintings, which draw inspiration from Joan Mitchell, Cy Twombly, Bernice Bing, and early Black Abstractionist painters such as Alma Thomas and Mary Lovelace O’Neal, provide a peaceful area for introspection and thought for both the artist and the viewer. She gives both the written and visual elements credit.
LVH: You began your artistic journey after a discussion with your therapist prompted you to start painting as part of your recovery. How do you view the relationship between art and healing?
AD: I know art opens a field of possibility internally, allowing me to process things intellectually or emotionally that I can’t process elsewhere; this is true whether I’m the viewer/consumer or the creator of it. I view the relationship between art and healing to be an intimate one. In Toni Cade Bambara’s The Salt Eaters, one of the characters asks the other, “Are you sure, sweetheart, that you want to be well? … Just so’s you’re sure, sweetheart, and ready to be healed, cause wholeness is no trifling matter. A lot of weight when you’re well.” This is what art does for me; it checks in with where I am in my own healing journey which is always nonlinear and questions if I’m still up for the work healing involves. It also helps me bear being well and whole, which is a lot of weight as Bambara says. Healing is just one gift among the infinite amount that art gifts to us individually and collectively.
LVH: The human body and identity are two themes that many contemporary artists are fascinated by. Why do you think this is? Could you also describe the relationship between your work and these two themes?
AD: I think artists celebrate, question, contend, and document the human body and identity—at the very least our experiences with both—in our work because we have such deeply intimate relationships with each— the two are really intertwined or interconnected. Our relationships with our own bodies are the most intimate we have and aid in shaping our sense of identity. Our bodies can be home for our identity or at war with it. One informs the other, I don’t know if you can truly examine one independent of the other…at least I know in my own work that I can’t. For me personally, the abuse I experienced in my childhood and adolescence impacted my physical body during those years certainly, but those experiences also very much disrupted an emergence of my own identity; I was a shell of a person simply behaving in whatever ways might keep me safe from harm and met the expectations and demands of my parent. I wasn’t allowed to be outwardly expressive at home—emotionally, verbally, and even physically there were times when my body wasn’t allowed to move, which I’m aware sounds quite bizarre and extreme, but that’s the kind of environment I was living under for years. The violence impacted my physical body but so did the nonphysical forms of abuse. Being forced to suppress emotion and absorb torrents of verbal abuse often took me out of my body as well; dissociation was both protective and destructive to my relationship with myself both physically and mentally.
I use my practice to investigate all the ways in which my lived experiences—both traumatic and healing—transform me physically and enable me to find, understand, and integrate parts of who I am that were suppressed in the past. This allows me safer frameworks to view myself from and provides a supportive scaffolding that enables me to feel the full weight and range of my emotions so that I can trust instead what they must tell me about myself or my external world instead of fearing I’ll be crushed by them. My work is where I get to kind of thrash around and fully express myself without retribution, which as a trauma survivor is significant; my therapist once told me that trauma can only be stored deep within the body for a certain amount of time before it begins to break the body down physically as well as psychologically. Painting helps me move that junk around and expel it from my body so that I’m not holding onto and continuously reabsorbing pain. Painting also affords me the ability to contend with the physical impacts suppressed trauma has had on my body and health; autoimmune and rheumatic disease ravages my body, so through paint and movement, I’m able to process how that impacts my relationship with my body and alters my perception of who I am or will become as I age, and the disease progresses.
LVH: In recent years, museums and galleries have made a conscious effort to spotlight female artists that have historically been overlooked. How do you feel about this rebalance in the narrative?
AD: I believe it’s long overdue and commend the effort while believing that there is so much more work to be done for an actual rebalance to occur. The latest Burns-Halperin Report revealed that Black women American artists, for example, represent just 0.5% of museum acquisitions in the United States. This kind, of course, correction must be sustained by diligent—and even aggressive—action. This is the kind of work that will take time, but I have faith that ongoing, consistent efforts will get us where we need to be.
LVH: You are the founder of ‘Tessera Arts Collective’, which supports and champions under- represented abstract artists. Can you tell us about the mission of the organization and why it’s such a personal cause for you?
AD: Tessera Arts Collective exists to support and celebrate the lives and work of Black & brown women & non-binary abstract artists. In the past, we’ve done this through a gallery space and a street art campaign during Women’s History Month in Philadelphia. Since late 2020, our focus has been on producing creative projects; in fall 2020, we released an activity & coloring book honoring pioneers like Alma Thomas, Mildred Thompson, Bernice Bing, & Carmen Herrera alongside today those working such as Chakaia Booker and Barbara Chase-Riboud. We also released a t-shirt in collaboration with our friends over at Art Girl Rising and Black Women in Visual Art honoring Black women abstractionists both past and present. And in 2021 we released the first issue of Abstractions, a magazine featuring essays, interviews, and reviews focused on abstract artists and abstraction through this very specific lens. We went on hiatus last year, but in 2023, we will continue to produce that publication (work on ISSUE 002 begins soon!) while also focusing on grant-making; we believe providing artists with direct financial support in the form of unrestricted funding is essential. The mission is personal to me because I’m literally the type of artist Tessera seeks to serve; creating—and holding—space for others to be seen and heard is something I’ve always been deeply passionate about. While there has been some progress made in terms of visibility and appreciation for the contributions Black and brown artists have and continue to contribute to abstraction, there’s still a significant gap that exists. We’re a very small organization, but it’s my hope Tessera can play a role in continuing to elevate and center these artists in the conversations about abstraction and share how so many of them are pushing it forward in significant ways.
LVH: We are excited to be featuring one of your works in our upcoming Hong Kong show, ‘Women in Abstraction’. While seeking out your own style, which other abstract artists did you look to for inspiration?
AD: Joan Mitchell—whose work is also featured in the show—is an artist I have been inspired by; I always walk away from viewing a Mitchell painting revitalized in some way that I wasn’t anticipating beforehand. Cy Twombly is of course another. But there are other abstract artists whose work and lives I have been inspired by even more than Mitchell’s or Twombly’s: Bernice Bing, Mildred Thompson, Mary Lovelace O’Neal, Lillian Burwell, and Makoto Fujimura among others.
LVH: What’s next for you in 2023?
AD: I just had a solo in Paris—my first in Europe—which was an incredible way to start the year. This Spring there’s a group show in Berlin at BODE Projects curated by Dexter Wimberley, and then I’ll have a presentation of new works in Seoul this Fall during Frieze week. Between exhibitions and fairs, the last 2.5 years have been extremely busy for me, which has been fantastic but at times draining; so even though I have a few shows on the calendar this year, I will mostly be focused on replenishing myself and my practice both in and outside of the studio through study, rest, gardening, experimenting with new materials, choreographing/developing a performance piece centered around movement and ritual, and lots of writing. I’m writing my first book, a memoir, and I’m currently exploring ways I might use neon to help integrate the written and visual aspects of my practice.
This year I’m also focused on the more tedious, boring aspects of being a working artist: professional development things like ongoing estate planning and building my archives. (The Joan Mitchell Foundation has an excellent workbook and guide titled Career Documentation for the Visual Artist available on their website for $13—highly recommend!) I turned 40 at the end of last year, and while that isn’t “old” by any means, I have been thinking quite a bit about legacy…which is most likely influenced by the fact that my oldest child will be 18 less than 2 years from now; also, living with chronic physical illnesses means I’m often thinking about my health and how that will impact my practice as I age and the disease progresses. It’s important for me to ensure that I am actively building systems and infrastructure that support not just my practice but my career and the business of being an artist as well. I believe investing in myself in these ways will help me sustain my career for the long term and assist my family in being able to manage my affairs (studio, artwork, writing) when I’m no longer here. I know this subject is not something many artists discuss very openly, but I think we should. I know this answer is not very glamorous, but hey, it’s real! *laughs*
WHAT’S UP/ HONG KONG ‘Women in Abstraction’
is on view between 20.03.2023 – 25.03.2023
at 6/F Pedder Building, Hong Kong
Lawrence Van Hagen in conversation with artist Stefan Brüggemann
Stefan Brüggemann (Mexico City, 1975) is a multidisciplinary artist whose text based practice provides a humorous critique on contemporary culture.
Made out of neon lights, vinyl lettering, or painted texts, Brüggemann’s work has been exhibited internationally in the most reputable institutions such as the Centre Pompidou and The Venice Biennale.
“In order to resonate in a society defined by rapid movement we cannot afford ourselves the luxury of too much language.”
S.B
As part of our journal, LVH has decided to feature an ongoing series of interviews with artists, collectors and art industry leaders. Due to his extensive participation with LVH art, it comes as no surprise that our first interview be dedicated to the work and career of the artist Stefan Brüggemann. Brüggemann’s works have been included in five of our What’s Up exhibitions and, earlier this year, we had the pleasure to visit him in his studio in Mexico City during the first LVH Art Trip on the occasion of Zona Maco. Today we are thrilled to count on him once again for the launch of this new series of interviews.
LVH: Can you give us some insight on your path to becoming an artist?
SB: Well I think this is largely beyond one’s control; becoming an artist means finding something inside of you that you somehow have the need to express.
LVH: What are the main differences you see in being an artist today compared to ten years ago? How do you think globalisation and the Internet have influenced the role of the artist?
SB: Even one day can be a long time. Questioning my role as an artist is part of my daily life and my practice. One constantly has to reinvent oneself in the creative process. As societal contexts shift, Art is both a reflection and an agent of that change. In this way, artists’ participation in culture allows them to shape the future.
LVH: I recently read that your creative process is divided into two steps: the first is reversal -a statement turned back on itself or a declaration that declares its own failure; the second is erasure, for example, partially blacked-out neon or over-painted surfaces. Could you walk us through your creative process?
SB: The process you describe is facilitated by two key factors. The first is trust in intuition and the second is quiet reflection. I allow myself to move through the world like a sponge, absorbing moments and ideas that I can set free in the creation of an artwork. I allow the passage of time to be a part of my process because, after all, time is the only judge.
LVH: Throughout your career, you have worked in a variety of mediums; however, the presence of text in your work has persisted all these years. Could you tell us more about your relationship with language?
SB: The core of my work is text. I have always been fascinated by the interdependent relationship between abstraction and language. It is this relationship that generates meaning:
“Language is the tool that simultaneously creates, illuminates and obfuscates reality.”
LVH: In an interview with Hans Ulrich Obrist you mentioned Ed Ruscha being one of your biggest inspirations, could you further develop on how Ruscha has influenced your artistic career?
SB: Ed Ruscha’s economy of language has been very influential on my practice. Laconic text, generating greater meaning with fewer words, is of vital importance. In order to resonate in a society defined by rapid movement we cannot afford ourselves the luxury of too much language.
LVH: A lot of your work is in black and white, I am curious to hear your thoughts on this.
SB: I enjoy tension and contradiction. Just as Baroque painters believed in the ability of chiaroscuro to reveal mystical thoughts, I am fascinated with contrast. Power is written in black letters on a white background.
LVH: In the summer of 2018 I had the pleasure to visit your exhibition in Ibiza. Many of your works in this exhibition talked about the concepts of speed and time. Could you tell us more about your relationship with these two?
SB: The series of paintings on display in Ibiza were my HI-SPEED CONTRAST PAINTINGS. These paintings look to combine the speed and plasticity of the digital with the intervention of gesture.
“My work more broadly is interested in the pace of modernity and the effect that it has on our experience of the world.”
LVH: You often use social critique, irony and sarcasm in your work, is there anything that you are specifically trying to point out?
SB: My work draws attention to our experience of capitalism. As a society we are condemned to chase our immediate future and my work acts and reflects on this point in a poetical way.
LVH: I am interested to learn about your mirror paintings. Could you tell me more about this series and the use of a mirror as surface?
SB: My decision to use mirrors stems from a conviction that the material that best embodies the concept of ‘speculation’ is the mirror. There is a human obsession with deciphering the immediate future that extends to all parts of life, be it economic, social or political. In my own work, the need to speculate is what drives me to keep making work while I am alive and free.
“I believe that reality exists so that we can speculate on it.”
LVH: In 2019 you had a monumental painting exhibited at Pompidou with the title “Headlines and last lines in the movies (Guernica)”. I would love to hear more about this project.
SB: This work is about centring the throwaway messaging we are subjected to as we move through digital and urban space. Whether these messages are political slogans, newspaper headlines or advertising jingles they all accumulate to form a cacophony of language. I am interested in this onslaught of information as a kind of fabric of our present.
“These words, easily dismissed, could have a subliminal power to shape us. Appropriating this language allows us to check that power.”
This installation at the Pompidou reproduced the scale of Picasso’s Guernica. The works share a theme of the human condition but they also spring from headlines as the germ of an artwork. Picasso did not experience the suffering in Guernica first hand, he actually painted his seminal landscape of dehumanisation after reading George Steer’s account of the bombing published in l’Humanité.
LVH: Can you tell me about the last exhibition you did at Hauser & Wirth London on 2019?
SB: The installation, Hyper-Palimpsest, brought together two existing bodies of work: the Text Pieces (1997-2019) and Headlines and Last Line in the Movies (2019). In the space, the audio installation Text Pieces Read by Iggy Pop (2019) played for fifteen minutes of every hour. These elements were overlaid in a process of ‘obliteration’. This is a process of layering that correlates with the unfettered accumulation of information in the digital age. In much the same way that an over saturation of all the colours tends to black or white (an absence of colour), Hyper-Palimpsest played with the idea that an excess of inputs leads to an erasure of content.
“The work posited that the aesthetic of our control-copy control-paste, 24-hour news society is an ever-obliterating palimpsest of digital white noise.”
The installation challenged the audience to engage, to walk right up to the work, so that they could see past the initial impression of black to the mark making and the layers of work. Within the space of visual obliteration, Iggy Pop’s reading of the almost indiscernible Text Pieces interplayed with that which we can and cannot see. I knew that I did not want to put my voice to the words, as it is not about the artist as an author, it is about the words themselves. Iggy Pop’s iconic voice was my first choice. The array of intonations and textures in his speech ultimately added a sculptural dimension to the sound and successfully preserved my distance from the work.
LVH: Are there any upcoming projects for 2020 you would like to tell us about?
SB: I am planting and building a botanical garden in Ibiza, a project I am developing in collaboration with Mexican architect Alberto Kalach. The garden will be a space for sculptural interventions. These works will respond to the rhythms of nature, which will present an interesting challenge to me as an artist and contrast with the body of work I have developed in response to the unnatural speed of urban and digital space.
In Conversation with Brice Guilbert
Born in 1979 in Montpellier and having grown up on the tropical Island of La Réunion, French artist Brice Guilbert merges abstraction and his creole heritage to create lyrical paintings.
Standing at the intersection of human experience and the natural world he uses various highly pigmented oil sticks on wood to create layered, gestural marks, imbuing each semi-abstract rendering of a volcano with different moods and resonances. Using abstraction as a means of engaging with meditative, spiritual and philosophical understandings of nature, his work showcases an ineffable, nostalgic quality that defies any fixed narrative.
His meticulous, repeated hand-drawn renditions of the same image mirror the techniques of artists like Andy Warhol, who utilised screen printing to replicate their artworks. This process blurs the lines between human creativity and mechanical reproduction, questioning the roles of the artist and the machine in the contemporary artistic process.
This month, we sat down with the artist to discuss his inclusion in our latest exhibition, ‘Double Take’.
LVH: Your ongoing series, Fournez, presents the recurring motif of a volcano. Can you tell us a bit more about where this symbol comes from?
BG: I lived my entire childhood in the south of the Réunion Island in the town of Saint-Joseph. Located very close to the foot of the volcano Le Piton de la Fournaise, this image corresponds to one of the landscape in which I grew up. From this geographical point of view, it is not possible to see the volcanic eruptions, nevertheless the impact of their presence was sufficient to give rise to a recurring motif in painting for me.
LVH: Despite the repetition of the image, each work presents a striking individuality. How did you come to explore repetition in your work? Does this theme hold a particular significance for you?
BG: I have been exploring repetition for a very long time in my work, the series being most often limited in time to one or two years. In my practice I have often worn out subjects quickly. It has only been since 2016, having completely found myself with this subject, that I stopped to develop it. In this continuous practice I have not yet found myself in the situation of boredom. And it is precisely in the search for intrinsic qualities specific to each painting that it is a question of reinventing one’s own process so as not to go in circles. First of all, I try to take great pleasure in making each painting and to treat it as a unique piece.
Concerning this eruptive and volcanic theme, it was first of all a question of evaluating its authenticity and originality. The theme has not been developed serially in the history of art or at least not in such a concise and repetitive manner. Some painters have developed this subject from several points of view but not by repeating the same point of view.
LVH: Your work is being presented alongside a Shadow painting by Andy Warhol. Famous for his expansive production through screen-printing, his intention was to reproduce the same image an infinite number of times. Have you ever considered his practice an inspiration? Were you inspired by any other artist included in the show?
BG: Andy Warhol is obviously a reference in terms of repetition and expansion of the subject and concerning the limits of use that can be made of painting.
For my part, I develop a single subject in relation to a place from my childhood, this story inevitably plunges me into an intimate relationship with this symbol. Andy Warhol is an inspiration for a whole generation of artists who succeeded him because he engages the creative process and the gesture in new relationships. It can be seen as a liberation as much as a defeat of the imagination. In any case, I like seeing it like that.
LVH: Your works have a profound physical aspect, your thick applications and layering of oil sticks build a texture that provides them an organic nature. Have you ever thought of exploring other media or production techniques? Have you ever considered exploring digital tools in your practice?
BG: I haven’t really considered it for my painting practice. The only digital tools that I have been able to use are in relation to my music. I have produced various albums of songs since 2005, the recording and production of these records was possible thanks to these tools. I mainly play acoustic instruments, but digital sound interfaces have allowed me to make recordings.
LVH: Another artist in the show, Oliver Beer, uses music to create his paintings, being a musician and singer yourself, has it ever informed your practice of painting?
BG: There is a priori no direct correlation between my musical practice and my pictorial practice. However, the theme of Reunion Island, of Creole roots, of my identity is a common thread in all my work. Even if my music does not influence my painting, these two practices feed off each other and allow me to consider different transports towards these Reunion landscapes.
LVH: Following your inclusion in our show, do you have any upcoming projects?
BG: My next project is the publication of a monograph in collaboration with Zolo Press, which will come out later this year. This book will bring together around a hundred paintings created since the beginning of my series entitled Fournez.
