One of the ways I recharge my creative battery is by looking at other artist’s work. Studio visits and viewing art in person is integral to the cultivation of my own processes and development. Understanding other artist’s use of materials, both technically and conceptually, give me new strategies to utilize in my own explorations. After months of lockdown and closures I craved the intimate experience of in-person art viewing.

Materials in response to space

As a huge fan of both Judy Pfaff’s work and her person, I was excited to drive north and see Pfaff’s installation ar.chae.ol.o.gy at Pamela Salisbury Gallery in Hudson, NY. I had been following Pfaff’s work for many years when I decided to take an art installation workshop with her in 2016. We’ve been friendly ever since. Her work is a perfect fit for the more than 100-year-old Carriage House building behind Pamela Salisbury’s street-front gallery space. Pfaff’s imagination claims and fully inhabits the space; her sculptures colonize the building, creeping, leaping and invading.

Pfaff is fearless, both in her choice of materials and in the transformations wrought from the juxtapositions she creates. Every material imaginable is used in these installations: cardboard, packing materials, rusty metal fencing, wire, poured pigments, plastic, Styrofoam, concrete, tree stumps, branches, paper lanterns, neon lights and melted plastic. The work seems effortless, suis generis, a natural outgrowth within the space it inhabits. Unearthly acid-toxic-waste pours of pigment meet and engulf natural found and organic objects. Swirling psychedelic formations seep and puddle and then reach to where dark velvety black and charcoal gray objects loom, weighted and ominous, transitioning as the installation rises to the third floor with shimmering, transparent and tactile white forms floating above. Wholly engaged, submerged in an altered reality, I have become immersed in a post-apocalyptic world.

Materials in response to concept

I also visited B. Avery Syrig’s studio. A material and conceptually-driven artist much like myself, I instantly felt at home nosing around her studio. Curiosity quickened, my magpie eyes darted from treasure to treasure: snake skins, natural fibers, handmade papers, desiccated fruit. Collage, weavings and sculpture. Glass cloches, quills, wood, clay and paint. One series titled Forbidden Fruit seems just that. Humorous yet discomfiting, attractive yet repellent. I was intrigued and unsettled in the best way possible. We dove into discussions about choice of materials, methods, presentation and references. Once again, the juxtaposition of material and meaning complicate and direct the reading, allowing for myriad and layered interpretation.

Visiting an artist’s studio always feels like an invitation to crawl into the inner workings of another artist’s mind. Before me lie materials and infinite possibility. Materials are used, manipulated, and transformed to reflect the unique perspective and intention of the artist. Questions bloom insistently… What do the materials evoke in me? What associations are suggested? What emotional and intellectual resonances sparked? How are these artists playing with my sense of reality, my experience of physical space, my assumptions and expectations? What role does texture, color, weight and scale play in connections that are made between materials and ideas, space and work?

Taking it all back home

My overthinking mind often gets in the way. I get trapped within my own conceptual ideas and inadvertently cut off certain paths of investigation and create my own dead ends. Getting out of my studio forces me to open my mind to other possibilities. Noticing what I respond to helps me identify qualities of material, concept, meaning and content that resonate with me. Enjoying other artist’s work awakens a questioning spirit to bring back to my studio, challenging me to be fearless in my own work. It can take a while for me to figure out how these influences will affect the questions I ask of my own work. It can take time to figure out how I will answer them through my work in a unique, personal and authentic voice. Immersing myself in other’s artwork deepens my understanding of my own. It is one of my favorite ways to recharge, reconnect, and re-commit myself to my art practice. Having had that opportunity taken away for so long makes me especially grateful to be able to do so now!

In this blog:

Judy Pfaff

ar.chae.ol.o.gy at Pamela Salisbury Gallery

B. Avery Syrig

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