Who what where…
I was born in Los Angeles and we moved to Paris when I was three years old, then moved back to the States when I was ten. That was a bit of a rude awakening. I left Paris from a very lovely international community to the suburbs of San Diego and an enormous public school in a small town, where the kids were really mean to anyone different.
After school, I knew that I wanted to be in the arts and went to a local arts college in Vermont where I could design my own major. Art college had a huge impact on me. It was a bit like a commune with a couple of hundred students. We lived in the woods and the facilities were open all night and day. While doing my undergrad, I got into photography through making films and wanting to process my own film. I discovered the darkroom and it was like magic.
I decided early on in my degree that I wanted to be a filmmaker. I thought I’d go to film school after my BA and that I would just arrive in Los Angeles and make movies. I ended up working on a couple of sets then decided that I’d gotten confused between enjoying watching movies and thinking that I wanted to make them. It was horrible being an unpaid intern and being abused by the system. My initial plan was that I would make movies and do my art on the side. But I soon figured out that the competition in the film industry was stiff. There are people out here who are willing to sacrifice anything to do it. After realising that, I did lots of crazy jobs. I worked for the Los Angeles Police Department as a fake decoy in sting operations. They needed normal people to go into places before them. I did a lot of weird things like that and then decided that I wanted to get a masters in fine art. I went to the Slade and ended up living in London. My visa recently expired so I decided to move to Paris (21 years later to make up for the cosmic injustice of having to leave there when I was ten years old. I spent my life from the ages ten to 18 wanting to go back. Finally, at 31 I get to return). Right now, I’m in LA to work on an exhibition but all of my possessions are already in Paris for when I get there in February.
I set up a curatorial team called Black Swan with a San Franciscan artist Jonathan Sajda and another graduate from the Slade, Sunee Markosov, who is now in Seoul, South Korea. We’ll be doing two shows in 2010 – one in Los Angeles and one in Seoul. Each exhibition will run for approximately one week and will not only include the travelling work but also performance, discussions and events specifically tailored to the host city and issues being raised within its own art community.
Our mission is to curate art events in the cities that we’re based. Our idea is that between Los Angeles, Seoul and Paris we can do art exchanges and do work in all three places. It’s a strange thing that as globalised as everything is, at the emerging artist level it’s very difficult to show work in different countries. You’re generally based in one place and show a lot there but rarely anywhere else.
To be or not to be…
I’d definitely describe myself as an artist now. I didn’t before. In the US people mostly describe themselves as artists of the mediums they use such as photographers, filmmakers, etc. But when I went to London, everyone at the Slade described themselves as artists. I really enjoy curating art, looking at work and putting on shows. As a child I was always putting on shows in our backyard and I still enjoy that.
Sunee and I used to put on shows in our apartment in London and now we want to show new works in other spaces without the limitations of exhibiting in a flat. My art work is all pretty much photography. I left filmmaking behind for a long time. But when I was at the Slade, I opened back up and worked with film, video, photography – all lens based media – and sound. Thematically and conceptually all my work has a common thread, dealing with death and memory. I’m drawn to that theme because, in a sense, I offer irrefutable proof that ‘someone’ was there. I did a lot of research into the history of photography and was drawn to the idea that everyone, no matter what their status in life, can have a likeness of themselves made. I find that idea key.
In our family we have a photo album from the 19th century but my grandfather died very suddenly and never told anyone who was in the photos. My grandmother later on went back to the photo album and wrote down the names of people she knew and put a question mark under the ones she didn’t.
Because of the invention of photography, I can look at a photo album now and know that I’m related to the people in the photos. That proves their existence to me. A lot of the work I do, not in the literal sense, is about making memorials for people and has to do with ‘history with a little h’. History with a big H is all about world history and war, etc. Little history is about memories and moments of the lives of normal people.
Photography…
One of the things I find interesting about recreating my family’s own historical events photographically is that because our visual memory is so much stronger than our reading/hearing memory, a few generations from now my images will become our family history. The way I imagined the scene, the clothing, the props, even what version of the story I chose to portray will become fact to future generations. I find that a really compelling angle.
As time passes from when an image is taken, the boundary between remembering the event where the image was taken and remembering the photograph becomes more blurred. I know I have many early memories that are only there because there is a photograph to trigger it and I only remember the event as whatever is in the photograph. I realise that my mother as family photographer, in a sense, became the editor of my childhood memories through what she decided was a photo-worthy event. Usually you don’t photograph the most important days of your life. You photograph New Year’s and birthdays and when you look back at photo albums they’re not that representative of your life events but of these ‘special occasions’.
Childhood…
My mum was a very creative person and from a young age the arts were always encouraged. Whenever we were bored, we’d have pens and paper shoved in front of us. I was a very imaginative child and spent a lot of time by myself because in France and California I had no friends within walking distance. I had two older brothers but generally they would go off and do things together so I’d be left to my own devices. I spent a lot of time daydreaming and would talk to myself and reennact scenes from movies and create characters (that I knew weren’t real).
Another thing that had a huge impact on me happened I was about five. I watched a mini-series about the life of Gloria Vanderbilt with my grandmother. We watched all five nights from her being born to her being ten years old. I was really indignant that they skipped the part where she was five, my age at the time. After that, I remember judging my experiences by how film-worthy they would be. I’d think, ‘If there was a movie made about my life, would this make it in?’ I think I still carry that around with me today. I guess I try to seek out people and adventures that would make the film of my life more interesting.
Encouragement…
My father was pushed in a direction with a career that wasn’t his passion so his attitude was always ‘do whatever makes you happy’. The most important thing about my childhood was that no one ever told me I couldn’t do anything. My parents were always really supportive. When I was about 12 my career path was that I’d be an MTV VJ in my twenties and then go on to have my ‘adult’ job as the General Secretary at the UN. This made complete sense to me. I also once made Saddam Hussein a mixtape when I was younger, thinking that if he listened to all my super cheesy world peace songs then everything would be better. I don’t know if my mum ever sent it to him but it was important that she allowed me be a dreamer and, perhaps naïvely, think that if you put enough care and thought into it, even the perfect mix tape could have the power to change everything. I think that is why supportive family and friends are so important. Life throws enough negativity your way as it is. If you don’t have supportive people around you, you’ll sink.
Childhood…
I think that things would have been very different if we’d moved back to the States and I’d made lots of friends and had been the stereotypical blonde Californian beach volleyball player or something like that. Along the way, I made a very conscious decision that I was never going to fit it and that I needed to do what I wanted to do. I had blonde hair and started dying it black. I decided that I didn’t belong in San Diego and that I was different. It is a very conservative place. I forged my own way and developed friendships with people who were misfits. If you’re a misfit, you can go anywhere.
Once you’ve moved around a bit and lived abroad, travel seems like the logical thing to do. As a child, when I went to an international school, all my friends were from different parts of the world. I need to keep moving. I can fall into a rut no matter how interesting a city is. If I’m there for too long I don’t think it’s very good for my creativity.
Advice…
The thing I always come back to is a story told by Gregory Crewdson, an American photographer. He’s known for his elaborate setups in people’s home. He said it’s really easy to get people to do whatever you want when you’re established. But when he just got out of school he wanted to shoot something in a woman’s garden. He didn’t know her and wanted to change her garden around in a bizarre way. He decided to write her a letter and stuck it to her door. Shortly afterwards, he got a message from her saying ‘Do what you have to do’. I always remember that when I want to do a big project but start thinking ‘I don’t have the money to do that’ or ‘I can’t do that’. There are so many people who are willing to do you favours, but you have to ask.
The other piece of advice is from my favourite filmmaker Werner Hertzog. He has this thing that he calls his ‘ecstatic truth’. Sometimes with my work, people think a scene couldn’t ‘have actually happened like that’. The term ecstatic truth refers to a greater truth – you can be creative with ‘the truth’ if the result creates a feeling that makes it true. That comes up a lot in my work. It’s beyond the truth of the memory.
Inspiration…
I try not to stress about it. I’m either feast or famine - I’ll have ten ideas or have no ideas. I used to worry about it but now I just get on with other things until the inspiration returns. The only proactive thing I do is to keep seeing work instead of stewing about my lack of inspiration. It’s not something I can turn on and turn off. There are also certain places and films I find inspiring. My favourite is Fitzcarraldo (one of Hertzog’s films). I find the way it was made and the story inspiring. It also takes me back to that idea of ‘do what you have to do’.
There’s also a story of an old, blind busker in Mexico City who plays a single blade of grass that has always stuck with me in the back of my mind. He can make the saddest most heartbreakingly beautiful music and it reminds me not to get to bogged down with the apparent obstacles to my art making, as I have yet to make anything as heartbreaking as what he can do with that blade of grass.
Collections…
I collect too many things. It comes from moving around a lot. I’m a hoarder and love stuff. I don’t smoke but I’ve collected antique cigarette holders. I’m mostly drawn to old things that clearly belonged to somebody, never new things. I’ve collected a lot of Victorian death souvenirs. It’s related to my work. I like to rescue things that were made with love and end up in junk shops like lockets and photo albums.
Favourite things…
My favourites books are The Little Prince and John Steinbeck’s Cannery Row. The Little Prince reminds me not to get bogged down by things. And Cannery Row is set in the depression in California. When I get homesick for California, I get homesick for a California I’ve never known. I get homesick for the idea of California in the 20s and 30s from the book.
In music, I’m a huge music fan across a lot of different genres. I’m a huge Nick Cave fan because he tells stories and I’m obsessed with stories.
I also have a ring that my best friend, who died quite young, made for me out of wire. If someone else found it, they would throw it away. I’ve had it since I was 16. If I lost it, I would hyperventilate in the same way someone would if they got their Rolex stolen or something.
Places…
In LA my two favourite places are the Hollywood Forever cemetery and a spot off Mulholland Drive. The cemetery is very old and was bought by some young guys who turned it around. They make a film about your life as part of the funeral package. It can be anything that you want. There’s a kiosk on the side of the cemetery where you can watch the life story movies of all the people who are buried there. Sometimes it’s some old guy telling bad jokes and laughing before he gets to the punch line. And other times, it’ll be someone giving their grandchildren advice. I find that place incredibly inspirational.
The other place off Mulholland Drive – you can walk over to see that billion dollar view you see in the movies. There’s a guy who has a old Airstream caravan just perched off the cliff. He listens to jazz at sunset and has big lanterns in the tree. You look at this incredible view of the sunset and his plot. There’s something I find amazing about it because it’s so cinematic. You can hear his jazz records and see his Airstream on the cliff – it’s a crazy juxtaposition. In every city, I have a favourite park. In London, it’s Postman’s Park near St Paul’s Cathedral.
Projects in the pipeline…
I work other jobs to make ends meet and am doing this big project with Black Swan. I’m also working on my own video project with mediums, people who help the living talk to their dead relatives. I find it very interesting that you can have two people who are on very intimate terms but, because one of them is dead and one of them is living, they can’t communicate. I find the role of the medium very interesting. They’re like an old-fashioned telephone that can connect two people in two different worlds. Whether or not, I believe in it or not, isn’t important. I find the fact that this phenomenon occurs very interesting.
Back in time…
I’ve always regretted the things I haven’t done more that the things I have done. I always jumped into things without checking the temperature of the water or whether there is water. I only have one chance in this body and in this place in time so I might as well make it memorable. I wear my heart on my sleeve and have been burned badly for it but as I try not to have regrets, they just weigh you down.
Relaxing…
I do it by escaping depending on the means at hand. Before I moved to London it was by taking long drives on Pacific Coast Highway listening to loud music. I’d daydream. There is something about watching the world go by while listening to music that makes you feel like you are in a film and something interesting is bound to happen soon – that this is the set up right before the character has some life-altering experience. When I moved to London I had a really hard time with not being able to escape by car. Public transport in London is amazing and I would be happy to never commute by car again but I missed being able to throw some things in the backseat and drive to the sea or out to the desert when I was frustrated. In the US, there is that expansiveness where you can drive for two hours outside of LA and be in a desert, a complete no-mans-land with just your thoughts and Leonard Cohen to keep you company. It was a complete revelation the first time I went to Brighton. After that, when I needed to escape London I would always end up on the beach in Brighton and just stare at the sea with my iPod until I felt better.
Dream life…
A life where I have complete freedom to do what I want – make art, collaborate with interesting people, make shows and have adventures.
Advice…
I don’t feel like I’m at the level where I can give advice. I still need a lot of advice from other people but the things that resonate strongly with me are: do what you have to do to realise your vision, don’t get bogged down with the details and never give up before you’ve tried. We often talk ourselves out of doing things that aren’t that difficult so don’t be afraid of failure and don’t try to do everything on your own.
I have a lot of close friends and I think it’s important to surround yourself with people who are supportive, believe in you 100% and can pick you up when you’ve been knocked down.
Making contact…
For our inaugural Black Swan exhibition, we are looking for works that explore the romance of ideas, the mad genius, the romantic archetype of the self-destructive creative, the romantic dreamer/adventurer, the romanticising of the dark side or of the unknown. We encourage submissions across different media. If readers are interested in taking part in the exhibition, they can contact Piper on .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) and she’ll e-mail you the submission guidelines.