[cont.]
Do you pay attention to the art market or read theory? If so, what?
Meko: Yes. I read a lot of art blogs, from the indie to the mainstream, and I seek out research papers that spark interest in the narratives that I am pursuing. My favorites right now are Africanah.org, AfroPunk, Okayafrica, Pelican Bomb, African & Afro-Diasporan Art Talks (AADAT), blackcontemporaryart.tumblr, and BURNAWAY.
Also, I watch Brainard Carey on that self-help type of art therapy, then I apply it in street terms to an art market that I want to attack relentlessly.
Rodriguez: Nah, why bother?
Sharratt: Yes, but I’m terribly lazy when it comes to looking up and typing out article names and authors. Lots of blogs and online articles about art, economics, social media, entertainment, science, and technology. In no particular order, a few recent academic-ish texts are: Self Identity Is a Bad Visual System and Too Much Too Fast – The Work of Art in the Age of Digital Circulation: A Lament, both by by Susanne von Falkenhausen; Evolution of the Social Contract by Brian Skyrms; #blacklivesmatter; Risk As a Practice of Thought by Francois Pluchart; Paragraphs on Conceptual Art by Sol Lewitt; Conceptual Art, Ideas, and Ontology by Wesley D. Cray; The Social Responsibility of Artists by Carol Becker, Tethering by Sherry Turkle; Amusing Ourselves to Death by Neil Postman (novel); So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed by Jon Ronson (novel); Philosophizing With A Hammer: Gary Knox Bennett and Contemporary Art by Arthur C. Danto; The Auto Da Fé: Ritual and Imagery by Francisco Bethencourt; and She-Male Fantasies and the Aesthetics of Pornography by Laura Kipnis.
Murphy: I really don’t pay attention to the market or read theory, but I do enjoy watching every kind of art, design, fashion, and environmental documentary. I recently watched one on Bill Cunningham, who seems to be such a great person with no motive other than his work. I also enjoy collecting old art books, which give me inspiration.
Schulte: This seems like two unrelated questions so I will answer them as such. Concerning the art market, I occasionally rubberneck — as one does at a car crash — but ultimately, I feel like the market has very little to do with artists working on the ground, which is where my interests lay.
I came of age as an artist when academies thought it wise to dump the cannon of post-structuralism into the laps of unwitting 18-year olds, telling them to “do something with it.” While this exercise was largely pointless, I have found that my work and personal interests often lead me theoretical texts that, on occasion, have illuminated my ideas on a particular subject or aspect of my practice. In recent memory, I have found texts by David Joselit and Ben Davis to be useful in this regard.
What’s your weirdest studio habit?
Meko: My weirdest studio habit is talking to my paintings while listening to the same song on repeat for hours.
Rodriguez: I personally don’t think it’s weird, but I paint my studio pink and surround my work area exclusively with pink things that I find interesting. Totally not weird!
Sharratt: I don’t know if this would be considered weird, since there are practical reasons, but I like to watch my robots as they carry out instructions to make work for hours on end. It’s a meditative experience.
Murphy: I think the weirdest thing about my studio habits may be that don’t have any. It’s difficult to get into a good routine when you are a mother of two 6 year old twins. Sometimes I work at the kitchen table while they are running and playing all throughout the house, and sometimes I work in the studio in complete silence.
Schulte: I was born into a problem called The Chicago Cubs (thanks Mom & Dad). A perfect summer day in the studio involves drawing and listening to legendary Cubs Radio announcer Pat Hughes describe every detail of the game so vividly that it feels like I am there.
What class/teacher do you most remember and why?
Meko: My high school art teacher, Pat Weatherford, was just very encouraging. Ron Shady, my a ceramics professor, allowed me to have a serious studio freedom, which helped me to develop my work ethic and studio practice that I have now. And Dr. Walters — she let me know that I had what it takes to go to Yale, but I didn’t go… Oh well.
Rodriguez: Screen-printing class: It made me decide to choose printmaking as my major.
Sharratt: My high school art teacher was very supportive and let me hide out and work in the art rooms when I should have been in other classes, but also told me she didn’t think I was good enough to get into Pratt, which was a nice ego adjustment. She was right, but they let me in anyway.
A close second is Marilyn Lerner at the School of Visual Arts in New York, mostly for her extreme patience. She had the misfortune of having back-to-finish-my-degree-in-my-late-20s me in her 6-hour foundational Drawing 1 class where I proceeded to subvert or manipulate every single assignment she gave. For example, “Make a drawing inspired by a work in MoMA” turned into a blank sheet of paper with my signature on it. She was very generous with the C that the stunt earned me. I realize now that having that freedom to push against the rules expanded my awareness of what art could look like and gave me permission to break away from my own conditioned ideas of what I thought I was supposed to be making.
Murphy: The two that stand out the most are Cheryl Cooper (painting) and Joe Thiel (illustration), both from Ringling College of Art, where I earned my BFA. They had a sense of humor about art that made me feel at ease, while at the same time pushing me to be true to myself within my work.
Schulte: I am very fortunate to have attended the University of Iowa where I was mentored by a remarkable group of artist-educators – John Dilg, Laurel Farrin, Susan White, and David Dunlap, among others. All have taught me lessons that resonate far beyond the walls of classroom. If forced to narrow it down, I can safely say that I have never learned more about living life as an artist than I have while sipping whiskey with John Dilg at George’s in Iowa City.
What’s the most challenging thing about being an artist in your city?
Meko: Getting attention outside of the city, so travel is important.
Rodriguez: Atlanta is awesome, it’s a fantastic art playground. Finding a good collaborator is always a bit challenging, but you never know (wink).
Sharratt: Sustaining an artistic practice past the early-emerging stage. There are a lot of good professional development programs that focus on early-career artists in Atlanta, but their teachings are often impracticable here due to financial challenges (dearth of collectors, rising studio rents, increased production costs, etc.). There’s not a lot of political will to continue support for artists who are still emerging but are a step beyond “brand-new talent.” Also, speaking or making art about controversial topics won’t win you many friends in the market, so the danger of self-mitigation becomes apparent for artists who want to pay their bills with their art. If an artist wanted to struggle less, the formula seems to be: make it pretty, make it consistent, and make it so it can go on the wall. However, the market is not a career, so insert your own reductive inspirational platitude here. And get off my lawn.
Murphy: Everything is so spread apart here in Atlanta, making it challenging to stay connected and inspired by the art community.
Schulte: I think artists face similar challenges everywhere — finding viable places to show, affordable housing, locating communities that are culturally engaged, earning a livable wage, etc. It is no different where I reside.
What would you do with a no-strings-attached $100,000 grant?
Meko: Travel to expand my perspective, education, and connections. I would build my Sonic Boom sound project, do the Crabs project, and create the Black Navigation app. I’d pay off a studio rent for a year or two. And, I’d focus on making killer works while exploring new materials to translate my narratives. There’s so much….
Rodriguez: Shut down a downtown street while construction workers find and deal with a huge mysterious pink mass from underground! Wouldn’t that be cool?
Sharratt: I’d like to say I’d use it to make art, but I’d probably have to use it to pay off $100,000 of my otherwise insurmountable student loan debt.
Murphy: This is hard to even pretend answer… I would be able to add a ceramic studio, which would give me the ability to take my work further in concept and larger in scale. I would be able to experiment with porcelain by incorporating finer materials like precious metals into my pieces. My husband and I would also finally open our Gallery STILLLIFE, which is a goal that we have been slowly working toward over the past year.
Schulte: In addition to paying off a student loan, I would continue to develop a series of aluminum sculptures that I am currently working on.
