Katherine Sandoz, who I interviewed back in January (read the interview here) just launched an online store for her work! It looks amazing, and features some beautiful pieces. Take a look!
This week I Interviewed Rachael Perisho, a local artist.
Geronimo Projects: How did you first become interested in art?
Rachael Perisho: I can’t remember ever not being interested in it. But I distinctly remember third grade as the year I decided I would be an artist- I had a great art teacher who gave me some confidence in creating things. I think I’ve been pretty single-minded about it since then. I always loved drawing, and in high school I was really into photography. I went to the Painting Department’s Open Studio Night my first quarter at SCAD, and decided I was going to be a painter.
GP: In one series of work, you paint younger feminine figures in white lying against a near white background. The girls take on a sense of vulnerability, and simultaneously a look of confidence and confrontation. Talk a little about these series of images.
RP: I’m interested in those contrasts- repression and longing, vulnerability and confidence, desire and ambivalence. These pieces are loosely based on passages from Songs of Solomon. The verses themselves embody a sense of sexuality, the idea of being a girl or a woman and a sense of longing or desire and anticipation. I wanted these pieces to subtly and quietly imply those things.
GP: Your work often utilizes negative space, which you utilize to give a feel of grandeur, or conversely, diminutiveness to the piles. How does extreme use of negative space affect the content of your works?
RP: In both the piles and figure paintings, negative space emphasizes the shapes and forms. I’m interested in both the presence and absence of things. I only show the things that are most important to me and what I want the work to say, and leave everything else out. Sometimes its about creating an ambiguous environment, removing things from context- like a figure that floats on an empty background, or a pile of dead birds that becomes about the shape it makes rather than its subject matter.
GP: In your series Piles of Things, you portray clumps of pink amorphous blobs. The piles have a very alien look and become progressively more invasive into the viewer’s space. What do these piles represent to you? How do you maintain viewer interest with series of works that are aesthetically similar looking?
RP: I had been working with pile forms in my etchings, and was really interested in the idea of accumulation and collections and the forms they could make. I was reading C.S Lewis’ “A Grief Observed”, his journals after the death of his wife. He talks a lot about death and memory and image and the “disadvantage” of the mind’s ability to manipulate images however it wishes. Because of this we are usually unable to remember things truthfully: “Slowly, quietly, like snow-flakes….little flakes of me, my impressions, my selections, are settling down on the image of her. The real shape will be quite hidden in the end. Ten minutes—ten seconds—of the real H. would correct all this. And yet, even if those ten seconds were allowed me, one second later the little flakes would begin to fall again. The rough, sharp, cleansing tang of her otherness is gone.” To me, these are dreamlike, abstracted representations of memories that have lost their clarity; the places they go when they’ve been forgotten or lost, like graveyards or landfills. I feel that they are best experienced when they can physically surround the viewer, becoming a sort of environment; so in that sense the aesthetic similarity is important.
GP: You have a series of embroidered recreations of notes left to you. Where did the inspiration come from to transfer these personal memos into works of art?
RP: I’ve always had an obsession with keeping things. I’ve never been able to keep a journal or diary, so I keep notes and things instead as physical evidence of memories, places, events and my relationships to other people. I’ve been saving these notes for the past four years or so, though never with the intention of making them into anything else. Embroidering these notes by hand gives them a sense of importance and sentimentality through a time-consuming and intimate process. They mean more to me than they ever meant to the people who wrote them. Most of them are hastily written, and I don’t think most of the note-writers even remember writing them at all. I’d love to have a collection of all the notes I’ve ever written to anyone. I think they could tell me a lot of things about myself and parts of my life that I have forgotten about.
GP: Who are some of your major influences?
RP: Artists: Alison Schulnik, Marlene Dumas, Miranda July, Jenny Morgan, Rachel Whiteread, Sophie Calle, Felix Gonzalez-Torres, Kiki Smith, Francis Bacon, Lucian Freud, Millais and the Pre-Raphaelites, Schiele, Klimt, Ingres, and a bunch more. Films like the Science of Sleep. I’ve always spent a lot of time reading. I love e.e. cummings, T.S. Eliot, Jane Austen, Emily Dickinson, C.S. Lewis, and Jonathan Safron Foer. I’m currently reading “The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle” by Haruki Murakami. I like reading about psychological studies, especially things concerned with the relation of our dreams to reality, and the ways in which we remember and forget. Right now I’m getting back into figurative painting and researching Jacques Lacan’s ideas on the gaze.
GP: How has living in Savannah affected your artwork?
RP: Living in Savannah/going to SCAD has changed the way I think about art and make it. In the last four years, I’ve had some really great professors, peers, artists and friends who have both challenged and supported me. I’ve learned a lot technically and conceptually and my work has grown and matured because of it. Savannah really is a pretty small place, but I think if you can take advantage of what art community there is, you’ll find that there are people here who are doing interesting things and making things happen.
GP: What does the future hold for Rachael Perisho?
RP: I’m getting back into painting the figure right now, and I want to keep working on that. I’d also love to keep experimenting with different media and processes; I want to learn more about embroidery and needlework, and I’d really like to experiment with animation and video. I will be graduating from SCAD with my BFA in Painting in June. For the first time in my life, I don’t have any immediate plans, which is both exciting and terrifying. I plan live and work in Savannah for a little while and figure out where I want to go from there.
GP: What’s on your playlist? Who are you listening to currently?
RP: Some of my favorites are Joanna Newsom, Josephine Foster, Cocorosie, Chris Garneau, Jens Lekman, and Why?. Right now I’m listening a lot to Camera Obscura, Cotton Jones and the Carter Family.
http://rachaelperisho.com
This week I interviewed photographer David Welch, whose show Material World opens at Oglethorpe Gallery Thursday, with an opening reception Friday from 6 to 9 PM.
Geronimo Projects: How did you first become interested in photography?
David Welch: I’ve had an interest in photography since high school, innocently experimenting with the medium and using it as a way to record. My interest increased and grew exponentially after purchasing my first DSLR in 2004. I was a taxi driver, and used the cash I earned to purchase a Nikon D70 and hit the road, traveling from Mexico to Tierra del Fuego in Argentina. It was a 9 month trip that allowed me plenty of time to learn the controls, experiment with composition, etc, you know the basics. The photos I came back with suggested something more than a casual interest, so I edited the work and put together a book of travel photos that attempted to create a sense of place in Latin America. The book was well received with family and friends so I decided to continue on and learn as much as possible as quickly as possible. After 5 years running a self-sustaining commercial studio my interests plateaued, which lead me to grad school.
GP: Tell me about your show, Material World, opening May 27th at Oglethorpe Gallery.
DW: Material World is the result of three quarters of conceptual and technical growth at SCAD. My goal for the show is to exhibit a set of photographs from the series that come across as overt objects, a presentation that will mirror the subjects. There will be an installation, too. One created from photographically-enlarged and printed copies of boxed goods I personally purchase. My goal is to mimic my shopping totem, but really drilling in that precariousness of the structure. Hopefully it all comes together. The show runs from May 26th - May 31st with an opening reception May 27th from 6PM-9PM.
GP: Within this work, you deal heavily with modern consumer culture and the excess associated with it. What initially drew you to make work about this subject matter?
DW: My undergrad degree is in Economics so I’m simply carrying those interests into the art world. Much of the work I’ve done at SCAD is a visual inquiry into such topics. My project Thomas Square, a more documentary type project finished in the fall of 2009, is an inquiry into Savannah’s gentrification issue, focusing on one neighborhood as a microcosm for Savannah as a whole. But when dealing with such subject matter you’re only scratching the surface. I needed to search deeper, looking for the source of those larger social issues. I believe consumerism to be the source of many larger social issues so I started researching and looking into the subject.
GP: What is the significance of the ‘totem’ that you are consistently constructing for your photographs? The creation of the totems is very sculptural. What drew you to photograph the totems as opposed to showcasing the actual totems as the objects they are?
DW: I’m a bit of a theory geek so the project was essentially born after reading a book called Material Culture and Mass Consumption by anthropologist Daniel Miller. This book was his dissertation work and in it he traversed a path of philosophical inquiry into the roles of objects and their importance in contemporary society. In this, he discussed Hegel’s Phenomenology and introduced such concepts like objectification. Furthering the discussion lead to Marx’s interpretation of the objectification concept, a reflection of his own industrial environment which resonated with me. For Marx, objectification is a process where man externalizes his natural world into a material form. This form then serves as a mirror for an individual to reflect upon. He learns from it then progresses. It sounded like a valid theory so I went with it. Almost serendipitously I took this theory a bit too literally and equated externalizing into material form with sculptures and used photography and the photographic print to serve as that mirror from which we reflect upon. That was the birth of my concept.
The totem was an early addition to the project as well. As a traveler, I was thinking about history’s western progression, Manifest Destiny, etc, thinking about those early brave souls, those adventures with a sole desire to discover. Captain James Cook is in that list, particularly his third voyage and attempts to discover a Northwest passage. Some of the writings mention totems and totem poles, structures that serve as narrative and social biography. The totem and consumerism are perfect for each other, serving as both narrative and social biography of our contemporary society.
I want the totems to exist only in photographs. Traditional totems of the Northwest are essentially ephemeral given they’re made of wood which decays over time. My totems are built specifically for ephemerality so they’re deconstructed after shooting. It’s like the work of Vik Muniz in the sense that it is designed for a photographic output and nothing else. I never did nor currently do consider myself a sculptor even though that association will be with me for sometime.
GP: How do you form ideas for a piece? Are there particular objects that attract you to source for your totems? What is the criteria for a successful totem?
DW: That’s a good question. After developing my concept it came to be that there are a myriad of things I can stack totemically but I want the objects to translate easily as common consumer objects. Anything can work, really, but specific shots like the shopping cart totem, TV totem and plastic bottle totem, it takes time to collect the materials (if they’re available). So long as the objects with the stack speak of excess and consumerism then it’s perfect. The backgrounds are also essential to the photographs.
GP: Who are some of your major influences?
DW: I’m into the work of photographers Vik Muniz, Andreas Gursky and Chris Jordan as well as sculptor Tom Friedman. Gursky and Jordan have worked within the topic of consumerism and have greatly influenced my work. I saw Jordan speak about his Running the Numbers book at the Bluesphere art event last fall in Charleston and got excited about the work. His work also speaks of accumulation, but it is very matter-of-factly, equating certain objects with a certain statistical significance. This is outstanding work but I thought it better to have a more identifiable structure, one that has a more whimsical presentation all the while encouraging debate about a serious subject matter. I recently linked Chris my work, to which he replied “Badass!” 
GP: How has living and making work in Savannah affected your art practice?
DW: I don’t think I would have started my Thomas Square project if it weren’t for the location of my first apartment here in Savannah. I come from a small island off the coast of Massachusetts, where everything is neat, orderly, and on the surface, perfect. Savannah’s imperfections sparked a lot of interests and many questions which lead me to my current work so i’m thankful for that.
GP: What does the future hold for David Welch?
DW: Who knows. I’m planning on continuing the work, building totems similar to those represented in the prints at my show. I’d like to at least put a solid year into the project and see what comes from it. The work seems to have gathered a lot of momentum, reaching a global audience online. This is exposure is validating so i’m going to keep the ball rolling. Photographs from Material World are also part of a few upcoming group exhibitions. This is exciting for me so i’ll continue to submit the work and hope to build my exhibition record and create exposure for the project. Ultimately I’d like to teach Photography at the college level so looking for jobs is always on my mind.
GP: Who’s on your playlist? Who do you listen to for inspiration?
DW: The Stars, Fleet Foxes and Arcade Fire as well as your typical Pandora or Grooveshark indie station. These are great sources for discovering music. But, when I need something dependable, to get me through those long post production sessions, I typically fire up some Boards of Canada or my all time favorite, mum.
http://leftfork.net/
It’s been a while since I’ve posted an interview, but I am going to try and get back in the groove with them, starting off with photographer Michael Younker.
Geronimo Projects: How did you first become interested in photography?
Michael Younker: When I was 12 or 13, my family took a trip to the Florida Keys. I remember my grandfather gave my younger brother, my younger sister, and I each a disposable camera. It must have been the first time someone trusted me to make photographs, and I remember the incredible sensation of having the power to show people what I was seeing.
GP: Much of your work focuses on smaller, intimate details of a residential space. What specifically are you looking for when you enter a space to photograph?
MY: When I walk into a space, my conscious mind usually jumps to literal imagery: a dead flower in a planter symbolizing the cycle of life and death or some other obvious symbolism. But it seems that my subconscious works strongly in the photographs that I don’t set out to take. At my best times, there is an innate gravitation between myself and certain areas of the location where I’m shooting. And this gravitation is almost never planned. For instance, in Anywhere But Home, I had no idea I was going to be photographing beds, chairs, and these quiet spaces as a way to communicate a longing for rest. I was actually planning to photograph the workers and the students of the Old Savannah City Mission when I stumbled upon a desolate, white room. It was one of those moments when I didn’t have a clue why I was photographing this room, but I knew I had to make a picture just then.
GP: Your work deals with the archetypal idea of home as an intimate space of familiarity and safety. What is it about the idea of home that attracted you to explore it photographically?
MY: Throughout most of my teen years, I didn’t enjoy spending any time at home. I was almost always at a friend’s house, trying to escape my own home. In the last few years, after figuring out a lot of my own personal problems with home, I’ve found it to be an incredibly restful place. In the midst of the busy and sometimes wearisome days, I take these quiet, intimate photographs to achieve a sort of catharsis. It is a way for me to still my body and slow down.
In contrast to the peace of mind that I achieve, I think the work comes from a huge struggle and questioning of the existence of God. In a way, the security in the belief of a deity is home. It is familiar and safe, just like you put it. This work springs from the inner turmoil and struggle produced when I lose that sense of security and begin to search for it elsewhere.
GP: Your work shifts back and forth between color and black and white. When and how do you make a decision on which is better to portray a scene? In your work, what does black and white connote that color cannot, and vice-versa?
MY: The decision to shoot in black and white is usually made from the start of my exploration, as was the case with Anywhere But Home. Color can be very distracting, and in Anywhere But Home, there was the idea of the single-mindedness that I wanted to portray; variance in color would have taken away from that. Also, for me, black and white suggests something ethereal and ephemeral. It isn’t so grounded in our reality, as humans who see color, and it allows the viewer to switch into a metaphoric perspective more easily.
In the case of Duel, I want there to be an definite sense of reality. Those are real places, they are a direct part of the narrative, even if they are still acting in a metaphorical sense.
GP: Your photographs are absent of people, and often toe the line between sadness or nostalgia. How do you approach an empty space and imbue it with a sense of human personality without the physical presence of an individual?
MY: The somber quality in my work isn’t something I intentionally create. My temperaments and paradigms definitely permeate my work. When I approach a space, I merely attempt to be honest with it. The reason, I hope, that my work has that personality is because I there is an authentic relationship between photographer and subject.
GP: Who are some of your major influences?
MY: Lise Sarfati and Rineke Dijkstra have been big influences on me. I know this is odd, because I don’t shoot often shoot portraiture, especially not large series of portraiture. But I’d like to think a lot of my photographs relate to theirs, if you were to remove the people from the images. In a closer way, Sasha Rudensky’s work has made a big impact on me. She did this body of work titled: Remains. I think the title is very telling, but it is comprised of images of places that once had a human presence but are now void of any human contact. Very nostalgic, very somber.
GP: How has your practice been affected by living and working within Savannah’s art community?
MY: I’ve been surrounded by some great people and great artists that have really challenged my perspectives and notions on life and on art. I’ve never been around any sort of art community. Coming from the suburbs north of Detroit, I was surrounded by chain restaurants and department stores, and my ideas of photography were ignorant and narrow (and I’m sure they still are). It is one thing to make photographs and show your friends and family, but it is an entirely different thing to make photographs that can evolve in to bodies of work because you have other artists helping to critique and refine your work.
Despite Savannah’s size, it’s great to see that people are still putting on gallery shows. There aren’t critics, there is hardly any press, but the fact that people are having openings is exciting. To spend the time and money to put a show together in a smaller art community says a lot about the passion of the artists in Savannah.
GP: What does the future hold for Michael Younker?
MY: I’ve toyed around with the idea of living in or around NYC. I’d like to be entirely immersed in the art culture there, but I’m not sure that my anxiety could handle the big city. Maybe northern Michigan or the Pacific Northwest would treat me better. I’d like to live in a place that rains often.
As for my work, I’m learning and re-learning to let go of the control I have on the process. By nature, my photographic work is a security blanket, so it makes it that much harder to push myself out of my comfort zone and experiment. I think it will be a lifelong process, but I’m excited to see what will come of some new experimentations. 
GP: What’s on your playlist? Who do you listen to for inspiration?
MY: Oh gosh. Well, looking at my recent plays, I’ve re-listened to the most recent Sufjan Stevens album, Age of Adz. It’s very introspective and I find it enchanting. Speaking of enchanting, I’ve been taken by Beach House for the last few months. My girlfriend, jokingly, calls me a “teenage indie-girl” because I like them so much, but there is a charming nostalgia about their music that I can’t get enough of.
And over the last year or two, I’ve really enjoyed The Dodos, Menomena, and Ramona Falls. I came to realize this past week that each of those bands are very disillusioned with God. As well as their instrumentation and song-writing, I think that was something that was easy for me to grab on and relate to.
I’m ready for some new music. I’ve been listening to the same bands for two or three years now, but I find a lot of comfort in familiar sounds. And smells.
http://www.michaelyounker.com/
Swing by Desotorow Gallery tonight from 6-9 for two openings. In Desotorow, Melting Pot explores works rooted in cultural heritage, and next door in Truspace, the District Quarterly is having an art showcase.
Tomorrow, swing by Forsyth Park all day for the Sidewalk Arts Festival, and in the evening head down to the River Club from 6-9 for the SCAD photography department’s annual showcase, Silver and Ink.
A platform from which I can showcase contemporary artists in the Savannah area.
