Tag Archives: Foray

Looking at Success: Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela

I first saw the intriguing and surreal photographs of Miss Aniela five or six years ago.  It was one of those visual encounters when late at night you have gone down the rabbit hole of links and come across work by someone who is of an age where they still can’t legally buy a drink (in the U.S.), and it leaves you slightly depressed.  But I wasn’t the only one discovering her photographs–her images and her story was gobbled up by blogs and e-zines all over the world and Natalie Dybisz (aka Miss Aniela) became an overnight internet sensation.

Recently I was interviewed by Fabiano Busdraghi of the Camera Obscura blog/magazine, and Natalie happened to comment on the interview–it was then that I realized that she was working through her own idea of success, how to navigate it and how to achieve it, and that she would be interesting person to interview.  How does someone who has had so much acclaim at the beginning of their career sustain that momentum, and then how does someone grow, experiment, and make mistakes in front of a watching public?  And for Natalie, most importantly, how does she move from fine art phenom to working equally successfully in the commercial and editorial worlds?

The Fourth Soil
Let’s start
at the beginning.  What drew you to photography and at what point during University did
you know that it was what you wanted to pursue?


My foray into photography happened whilst I was at
University, but studying something else. It was an English and Media degree,
during which I discovered other artists/amateurs around the world sharing their
work on the internet, and to my surprise, openly sharing their
self-portraiture. This re-awakened a desire to take pictures (I had had a brief
stint with self-portraiture a few years earlier with a digital camera loaned
from my college’s art department) but here, the artist pseudonym ‘Miss Aniela’
was born, Aniela being my middle name, and a new body of work emerged which I
started to share online. Being a creative person, photography became the
appointed vocation, mainly through the allure of the immediacy of digital
photography. Self-portraiture began for me as a somewhat shameful habit, so I
liked the private process of being able to take a picture of myself, see my
results straight away and take it forward to experiment in processing, always
in control.

The Escape


It seems that you had huge successes while still in school–did that
success impact your college experience?


I made a lot of images (though I didn’t think of it so
‘professionally’ then) and had my first exhibition locally in Brighton, started
to sell some prints, and whilst that’s certainly a great start, I guess I never
saw it as groundbreaking. I have always been hungry for massive things, in
fact, so much so that I’ve have to curb that humongous desire a bit to avoid
being naïve about how quick ‘success’ can happen, and indeed, how meaningful
quick successes really are. However, in answer to your question, I still had
plenty of time to attend my lectures (the schedule was quite laidback!) and get
a first… it was the employment I entered afterwards that was promptly disrupted
by growing photography opportunities.


The Adrenalin

An Impromptu Performance


It also feels like your work was well ahead of the visual learning curve– the
kind of self portrait imagery that you were (and are) exploring at that time
was quite unique.  I remember seeing your work 5 years ago and your visual
voice was so powerful right from the beginning….


Thank you, I think the biggest compliment people can
make is when they speak holistically about my work and about me as the creator
– when they suggest that I have a ‘voice’ that not only uses the skills of
photography but the creativity, ‘talent’ or so on – it suggests respect and
longevity which is ultimately what any artist wants in their life. 


On another note, it’s interesting you mention seeing
my work from 5 years ago – it does make me wonder when people mention having
known my work for a long period of time who I wouldn’t have imagined seeing it.
It makes me hope for more of those onlookers to reach out – the smallest
spurring-on from others in the art industry can be uplifting and leveraging.


IV TV

Having achieved so much publicity and accolades at an age where most other photographers are still finding their way, does it feel like you missed your “photographic childhood”?

I feel that my photographic ‘childhood’ is my initial foray into photography, the self-portraiture from 2006-2009 which gained a lot of attention. But
there was a question of where the attention was going and getting into
the right circles, and I knew my dream was to make a long-term impact. 
It was also a ‘childhood’ because I am happy to consider that phase a fun and memorable period of letting loose, experimenting and setting foundations to who I am now: what I would call the more refined ‘adult’ who has more of a focused consciousness on what they are doing, manifested specifically in my current work, and everything that work suggests of my future direction. 

Also, as this new ‘adult’, I feel as though I can and will attain more rounded respect and not just a single-faceted ‘wow’ at a technique employed as in my earlier work. Another major thing I am noting is the mileage to be had in sharing one’s work in new circles, accessing more places on the ‘internet map’ than the known territories of mostly unprofitable photo-sharing sites, just taking advantage of the many opportunities both virtual and physical to get one’s work into different contexts that can be more intellectual, lucrative, or both.

Heatstroke

Undoubtedly
you are a popular image maker with close to 11,000 FB fans and have influenced
a whole generation of young photographers… Do you feel a responsibility to
your fan base?  And do you feel you have to stay creatively one step
ahead?


Those are good questions. In terms of
‘responsibility’, yes and no. Yes, because the nature of my work, by which my
popularity/profile has been raised, is something that should be noted and observed
as inherent to my ‘brand’ as a creator, in order to keep that accrued audience
satisfied. But then sometimes the notion of a ‘brand’ is at odds with being an
‘artist’, which is about being true to your fluctuating, complicated self.  But surely in either case, the audience
is exactly that – the audience – who have chosen to come and view whatever you
are putting out, there is something they like and trust about you. I have
always remained true to following my instincts and expressing what most stimulates
me; the only troubles have laid in the continuous self-doubt of how exactly to
build, extend and monetise that audience to be able to make a living from art.

Migration Season

To some degree, the ‘Miss Aniela’ name has become a bit
of a brand, with my partner Matthew on board as a business, the name through
which we sell our workshop-style event (big, laid-on fashion shoots) and pursue
clients. But it will always be an artist-led ‘brand’. I will always put out
what I am passionate about, whether it’s a piece of new work or an event where
I show people that being a photographer is about ‘doing it for yourself’. I would
not feel comfortable otherwise. Miss Aniela is only a ‘brand’ in terms of
taking on an ostensible form and structure that resembles a business. Behind
that, I am always a thinking feeling artist.

Deliverance

I do feel inclined to keep ‘one step ahead’, but
that’s mostly because I naturally veer away from trends and ‘what everyone else
is doing’, at least, from the things that become hyped or mass-trends (I
dislike that in any form: music, film, TV etc). So, in my personal artmaking,
it’s a natural in-built mechanism that keeps me moving from one thing to the
next, when one thing feels ‘done’, I can rarely produce another perfunctory
image to fit alongside it, no matter how much it might keep the momentum of my
audience’s lips moving. I talk here in particular about techniques: a good
example is my phase of ‘levitation’ photography which I unpick at length on
Fabiano Busdraghi’s Camera Obscura blog. 



 But I’m also referring to other
phases: phases of feeling/desire (e.g. my fairly lighthearted ‘cloned’ self
portraits), or being drawn to a particular location (doing a series with
abandoned buildings from which I made a dedicated self-published book).


Her Fleeting Imprint

And then, currently in my Ecology series, I am
expressing a more troubled outlook, rather than using the subject as a
character in a fantasy world, it moves towards inferring the crumbling
infrastructures of our real world – a shift from the personal to the
environmental, but with the human element and often still using myself as a model.
This series is fuelled by my personal phase of having the urge to just go
laying naked outdoors, to present a ‘stripped down’ scene of starkness, with
other elements such as litter, ironic objects, and surreal distortions at once
alluring and revolting.

 Gyre Falls
My series ‘Surreal Fashion’ began as playing around
with fashion portraits, trying to make them more contextual and interesting –
and also, for them to take on a different appearance in post-production that
would transform them from just being a shot anyone could take in that highly
contrived, ‘styled’ situation. I find that a lot of fashion photography has
that ‘samey’ look to it, and I wanted to take the images a dimension further. Inspired
by the paintings and objects in the locations where I shoot the portraits, I’ve
started to incorporate them into the actual photos, giving the
objects/paintings a new lease of life, literally re-animating them. 


Storm Door

My
favourite one was in making a painted sea spill and crash around a model in
‘Storm Door’.  The painting was in
the adjoining room, and had previously frustrated me with inspiration I did not
know how to vent! The picture became my way of consuming it, in a creation of
my own.

In this series, it’s hard to ‘plan’ exactly what I
will do with a prop – I just get a feeling that something will happen with it,
and I play around with possibilities. So I am able to keep it growing into a
‘series’ because the main criteria is that it involves an object taking on a
surreal force within the image, and together, all the images become like a
colourful tapestry. I am aware that some of the images are less suitable for
the commercial interest of fashion than others – it is the more subtle ones
that become part of my actual fashion stories. On the whole though, my goal is
to exhibit the best of the series, as they have already proved enticing to
print-buyers.

The Hunt
The White Witch



How is that recognition impacting your current desire to make commercial work
and get a foot hold into that market?


Gaining commercial work is very important to me,
because my idea of success of having someone believe in my ability to create,
and the trust that I will create what they want. The same applies to fine art:
having a gallerist or curator believe in my work and vision.


I know what it is like to be so compelled by someone
else’s work: no matter of the age, credentials, or any other factor, you just
‘know’ that someone has ‘it’. That ‘it’ is like love, it becomes the meaning of
life, the feeling that defies fear of mortality! An example is the contributors
whom I choose for my books, like you have said about your own blog, going
beyond ‘me, me, me’ is the next level of self-fulfilment in that you are
helping share other talent with the world. Passion for art is like a common
language, but unwritten or unspoken; it is about just feeling the conviction
that someone’s work needs to be seen, shouted from the rooftops. I also feel
this way when I meet an astounding model or hairstylist. I love meeting people
who are – genuinely – passionate and hungry, who never rest (even to their
detriment), who are so serious about making something happen that goes beyond
money or logic. The bonus is when you can meet someone who does also have a sense of business and logic
– whose passion doesn’t send them completely to cuckoo land! For that is how
dreams and wishes become real and serious. I strive daily for that balance, and
to convey it, as well as find it in others.

Retreaded



 Do you want to straddle both the worlds of fine art and editorial/commercial
photography?


I do want to straddle both, and I’m realising it is
possible, as long as focus is applied in equal amounts to both – which is the
tricky part. Sometimes I get lost wasting time in the blurry worlds in between
the two – entertaining an audience online, doing admin or simply procrastinating.
Then there is also another facet to my work which is the fashion shoot events
we hold in different countries, which takes a lot of organisation, but my
partner oversees most of that, and the events themselves lend well to the
creation of the fashion work that I am currently submitting to magazines and
using to get a foothold into fashion, as well as building my art/fashion fused
series which I’d like to exhibit too.


Harmony String


I see other photographers able (and indeed, almost
obliged) to pursue commercial photography of all kinds as well as keep doing their
‘personal’ projects. So I see it as no matter that I have to do the same – but
I relish the idea of commercial projects, in working with budgets large or
small, to put together productions, and make ‘art’ happen, albeit
commodified.  My partner Matthew
and I live and breathe photography, we are constantly thinking of new ideas,
and whilst waiting for clients, we get busy making our own productions happen. We
are genuinely connected to the creation of art using whatever means we have at
hand: whether that’s a reflector, smoke bomb, and my naked body in a spot of
woodland, or a 17th century stately home with thousand of pounds of
lighting and 6 models in full Regency attire.


Another Whirl


How does it feel to expose so much of yourself through your work, physically
and mentally?


I used to expose more of myself mentally, as in
‘personally/anecdotally’, through journalistic dialogue alongside my images. This
became a drag, because as well as my work becoming reminiscent of a sighing
teenage girl’s diary, I just felt as though it undermined the work a bit. Now I
separate the two more, and use places like Twitter as an anecdotal outlet, and
give my work some conceptual breathing space.


But, I am an artist who likes to ‘talk’. I engage
regularly in the written word in different ways, but I try to balance it out by
blending the technical, artistic and anecdotal together: ultimately to engage
with people and not encourage the saturation of any of element. A key example
is how I write my books – in my most recent book Creative Portrait Photography,
I try to talk about the whole process of creation, showing the story behind the
making of an image including the tools, the intentional thinking, and the
surprises. I also get involved as much as possible with speaking engagements at
fairs and events.


Parasite

On a level of physical exposure, I am exposing myself
naked even more than ever. It stems from an increasing yearning to take the
focus off the exclusively-male titillation element, and instead stand exposed
on my own terms, as a female human body that is not just always sexually
suggestive, but also can be, quite unashamedly – after all, sex is fundamental,
and a massive part of our consciousness, it is life itself. And sometimes I
even take a sensual or suggestive pose and choose not to settle for its beauty
or simplicity, and play on the viewer’s expectation, almost to subvert or
disrupt the subject’s vulnerability to the gaze of the spectator.


 The Corkscrew

The Invasion

The milestone where I really felt as though I was
‘exposing’ myself physically and sacrificing myself to my art was when I did a
shoot naked with a python last year, to produce an image inspired by John
Collier’s Lilith and Evelyn de Morgan’s Cadmus and Harmonia (my image ‘Double
bind’). I walked about naked in front of the team on the day, who were to that
point strangers. I also put out a ‘behind the scenes’ video showing myself
wandering around starkers and thought, well, that’s it, that’s me exposed
completely.


Double Bind

My increasing desire is to lay myself bare, and use
myself as an instrument sacrificed to art. The safety net is in keeping the art
less about ‘me’ and more about the message or aesthetic being conveyed,
although of course that ‘message’ is always filtered and shaped through the
personal experience of the artist creating it. It is always personal to some
extent, but at the volume we can turn up or down.

Your new work is so much about mixing ideas: self-portraiture and
self-starting, combining the landscape and portrait, surrealism, environmental
concerns seeping into the work and mind, merging of surrealism/digital
manipulation with fashion portraits, colour vs. b/w.  Your well of
inspiration seems limitless.  Can you talk about how you approach an
image, and ultimately create a body of work?


Sometimes I feel I do too much different work, there’s
always a way to organise all the output, even if that comes later down the line
after months or even years of creating the material. When I produce an image
there is always a sense of spontaneity that I have learned to embrace, ie. a
sense that I don’t have a specific pre-vision of the actual image, only of a
mood or couple of elements that will be involved. This means that sometimes,
the outcome of my shoots literally become ‘shoots’ that go off all over the
place! I have often said that the ‘artist’ side of myself spills work forward
in an unkempt flow, and the ‘business’ or ‘publicist’ side of myself checks in
every now and then to organise the assortment of expression and make it into
series, books, cohesive projects, etc.


That said, I have found it easier in recent times to
mainly stick to two bodies of work – the Ecology series and the Surreal Fashion
pieces. That’s because I have made sure my bases are covered in terms of what I
want to express at any one time, and how to house it. Before, it wasn’t easy
for me to formulate a specific series title. As long as the series is broad
enough to accommodate the spectrum of urges and desires I feel at any present
time, then a resultant image can be showcased as part of a set even though it
might move around later.

Denuded


Sometimes the series will become too broad, and I’ve
yet to see how cohesive (or not) my Ecology set will seem when I present it to
galleries. Subsets form within one series, and could potentially become a new
series. A prime example is my use of both colour and black-and-white in
Ecology. I know that it’s not a norm to exhibit both together, even though the
conceptual dialogue ties them together. But as I continue to make more and more
work for Ecology, it may be that those subsets take on their own organic life.
Whilst I am my work’s creator and it ‘obeys’ me to some extent, I have also
learned to ‘back off’ and not force my images to be/do something that doesn’t
work. For my work to be genuine is the most important thing for me. Ironically,
you need to work hard to make something look natural and effortless. You have
to learn to unlearn, and keep challenging yourself to find your true inner
self! 



The Divorce

You
recently stated: 
“one of the main
frustrations to my own Internet-spawned career is having all these ‘hits’ on
one website and another, but those hits not translating into anything
ostensible or lucrative per say, and most of the interest that does come to my
work being from people who want to know how to grab some of those seemingly
desirable ‘hits’ to try replicate the life and success they think I’ve got.

The
Internet creates a big illusion. Artists make work and share it, and their work
might have lots of popularity online. In that popularity they accrue a mass
following of inspired people, some of whom are fixated on winning the same
label of artist – they want a shortcut to get what the artist apparently has
(which may be little more than just Internet hits) without realising that first
they need – and should want to – make a body of work that, without years of
dedication and marketing, might never make them any money at all.
” 
With that said, what platform has
given you the most exposure, and what took your work to the next level?”
In terms of what has taken my work ‘to the next level’ – it
is probably a self-started thing, my ‘Fashion Shoot Experience’ event, which on
a personal level threw me into the deep end of organising and shooting with a
5-person styling team and 5 new models each time. Over a year we have shot over
50 models – a saturation I would never have experienced by other means. It’s
been great experience not just for getting better with fashion photography, but
just for working with models in general, and opening doors for new
possibilities with both fashion and fine art. There are also countless other
benefits to the experience we’ve add in putting together these productions, and
it also highlights my partner’s influence on ‘Miss Aniela’ and how it’s
intensively evolved the creativity.

In terms of platform on the internet, by far it is
Flickr that has given me the most exposure, but that’s because I have used it
so much, regularly, to put out an image one by one as they are made, and watch
a body of work grow.
Flickr is the place that seemed to physically lead to
what I would describe as a big break – it is where my work was apparently seen
and recommended to a contact at Microsoft, who invited me to speak at their Pro
Photo Summit in 2008 shortly after I’d just left University, and this
opportunity gave me exposure to photography-related contacts (as well as my
first trip to America!) I’ve also had other little breaks stemming from placing
my work on sites and being featured in certain magazines, but overall it’s a
case of just chipping away at everything hoping to increase one’s profile over
time.

Stay Awake and Watch

One of the main good things about flickr – or rather, how
I’ve used flickr – is that it has given me a self-imposed ‘deadline’, an
end-time to work towards when I am producing an image, by which time it gets
uploaded and is called ‘finished’. There is no dithering with images that are
stuck in some limbo folder on my computer, which might well be the case if I
didn’t have an online outlet where it’s ‘published’ in the view of others.

On the flip side, there are many different communities within
Flickr, and often your preferred circle of people becomes infiltrated with
people who are just browsing for pretty shots and make flippant comments on
your long-thought-out pieces that make you cringe. I would turn comments off if
it weren’t for my fondness of the deeper comments I do get, some which inspire
me in turn: once I even made a montage of comments and placed them onto my
image and re-shared it as a new piece of art.
And then there is the issue of internet culture. Most people on
Flickr, on the internet as a whole, like to be stimulated within seconds. They
are the ‘like’, ‘sooo beautiful’ or ‘wtf’ generation, and often judge
photography on the immediate singular visuals for which there is a clamour for
authorship, as people emulate props and techniques they see in others’ work
like clattering bottles falling round in a recycling truck. It’s important to
contextualise these platforms, each being one limb to a wider operation.

Manmade


What advice can you give to emerging photographers?

Give yourself time to create a body of work, which you
could share ‘in progress’ through internet platforms but don’t feel the
pressure to ‘present’ yourself with a website and pursue exhibitions, publicity
etc until you have something solid and worthy to show. Things might might move
faster in the internet age but as the saying goes, ‘there is no shortcut to the
places worth going’. Some patience needs to be had in being able to first form
a foundation from which you are happy to stand for the long-term.


Suspended



And finally, what would be your perfect day?


I live many perfect days that I often try to write
down. I am very lucky to be in a solid relationship that is also a photography
‘team’, and on a more superficial level we’re currently living in a house we
really love, which makes every day a treat. I also can’t describe how happy I
feel just to see and hold my two cats! All these things combined, every day
becomes a treat. A perfect day would be to go out into the surrounding
countryside to shoot some nudes and then come back to the hearty meal of steak
and lots of vegetables, following by hours of processing and tea that leads to
the making of a final image that gives me flutters for days. (That is pretty
much what happened for the making of ‘The Fourth Soil.’) Any creative day is a
perfect day. A future perfect day that I dream about is bringing our own
‘creation’ into the world, into our home, peacefully and joyously.


Tentilla

TIME Style and Design: Peter Hapak Photographs Emily Blunt

Photographer Peter Hapak asked Emily Blunt to get into character during the cover shoot for TIME Style and Design, which relaunches this March after a three-year hiatus. It was an easy task for the British actress, who has played myriad roles—from a bossy fashion assistant to a young royal—in her career and currently stars opposite Evan McGregor and Kristin Scott Thomas in Salmon Fishing in the Yemen.

“I wanted to create something that didn’t feel earthy,” Hapak says. “So I asked her to imagine that she was in outer space, where she was experiencing different noises and light and trying to get along in this new space.” Hapak, who used harsh light to bring out sharp highlights and shadows on Blunt, even likes to say he was working with two different people during the sitting. “The thing about fashion is when people walk in, they look like every other person wearing normal clothes,” he says. “But when we are working on a fashion shoot, we’re creating a stylized person, a character that completely differs from the actual person.”

The cover shoot, which took place in New York City this Februrary, was a reunion of sorts for Hapak. The selection of clothing and pairing of designers such as Prada and Stella McCartney were creatively conceived by Ali Toth and Aniko Virag, stylists whom Hapak first met in Hungary nearly six years ago. In fact, it was Toth and Virag who commissioned Hapak for his first foray into fashion photography. “I was photographing dancers and experimenting with how dancers can interpret fashion in different ways,” Hapak says. “They saw one of my series and called me to collaborate.”

Among the many outfits Blunt exhibited for their latest collaboration, Hapak’s favorite piece was a black Balenciaga hat worn by the actress on the cover. “I just loved that Balenciaga hat,” Hapak says. “And this is exactly what I like about fashion. The right accessory speaks for itself—and the entire picture.”

Read more from TIME Style & Design

Natasha Caruana

“Sorry now sold”

“You will feel like a princess”

“If it doesn’t sell I will take it as a sign I’m not meant to part with it”

All images © Natasha Caruana

Natasha Caruana was my stand-out artist during the portfolio reviews at this year’s FORMAT International Photography Festival in Derby and her latest series of work, Fairytale for Sale seems very pertinent given the Royal Wedding that looms large. The project exposes the world of online wedding dress re-sale in a manner that is both humorous and offers a complex cultural commentary on the idea of marriage. The omission of personal identities through markings and blue tack, in juxtaposition with comments intended to sale the item, loads the work with both narrative and critical possibility.

Posing as a woman hunting for the perfect dress, Caruana befriends the brides who in her words: “reveal that the artefacts of the big day are being discarded; sold for money to de-clutter the wardrobe, make space for births or in some cases because the dresses are now tainted with divorce. Their words punctuate the images.”

Caruana further explains her work and interest in the phenomena: “The smiling faces of the bride, groom and their entourages’ are blocked out in white, cloned over, smothered in blue tac or scratched off in a bid to disguise and make anonymous their private day now in the public arena. What remains are bizarre theatres of marriage; white-faced performers have taken to the stage and act out emblematic scenes. The original wedding album represents the trophy, the validation of a ceremony, a ritual performed, a tradition upheld as a record of the perfect day. But now the party is over, the cake has been eaten, the presents have been opened, and the photographs have been framed; the online adverts represent the detritus, the props of the fairytale wedding production.”

Caruana’s matured foray into themes of love and the everyday comes after The Other Woman and Married Man. Her works have been exhibited in various group shows, such as Invisible Adversaries, alongside Francesco Goya and John Constable and The Fool at the Northern Gallery of Contemporary of Art, Sunderland. Previous group and solo exhibitions have been in The United States, Poland, Germany and Saudi Arabia. Her work is held in the collections of the British Library, Woman’s Library in the UK and the Laguna Art Museum and The Kinsey Institute in the United States.

Born in 1983 Caruana is a practising artist, lecturer of photography and founding director of the London based studioSTRIKE artists studios. She graduated from an MA in photography at the Royal College of Art in 2008 and is currently a lecturer of Photography at the University for the Creative Arts, Farnham, Surrey. Her work was shortlisted for the National Magazine Awards in 2007 and the Deutsche Bank Pyramid prize in 2008. In 2010 Caruana was named as the one to watch in the Royal Photographic Society Journal and the British Journal of Photography and selected by the Humble Arts Foundation as one of 18 leading female art photographers working in the UK.

Natasha Caruana

“Sorry now sold”

“You will feel like a princess”

“If it doesn’t sell I will take it as a sign I’m not meant to part with it”

All images © Natasha Caruana

Natasha Caruana was my stand-out artist during the portfolio reviews at this year’s FORMAT International Photography Festival in Derby and her latest series of work, Fairytale for Sale seems very pertinent given the Royal Wedding that looms large. The project exposes the world of online wedding dress re-sale in a manner that is both humorous and offers a complex cultural commentary on the idea of marriage. The omission of personal identities through markings and blue tack, in juxtaposition with comments intended to sale the item, loads the work with both narrative and critical possibility.

Posing as a woman hunting for the perfect dress, Caruana befriends the brides who in her words: “reveal that the artefacts of the big day are being discarded; sold for money to de-clutter the wardrobe, make space for births or in some cases because the dresses are now tainted with divorce. Their words punctuate the images.”

Caruana further explains her work and interest in the phenomena: “The smiling faces of the bride, groom and their entourages’ are blocked out in white, cloned over, smothered in blue tac or scratched off in a bid to disguise and make anonymous their private day now in the public arena. What remains are bizarre theatres of marriage; white-faced performers have taken to the stage and act out emblematic scenes. The original wedding album represents the trophy, the validation of a ceremony, a ritual performed, a tradition upheld as a record of the perfect day. But now the party is over, the cake has been eaten, the presents have been opened, and the photographs have been framed; the online adverts represent the detritus, the props of the fairytale wedding production.”

Caruana’s matured foray into themes of love and the everyday comes after The Other Woman and Married Man. Her works have been exhibited in various group shows, such as Invisible Adversaries, alongside Francesco Goya and John Constable and The Fool at the Northern Gallery of Contemporary of Art, Sunderland. Previous group and solo exhibitions have been in The United States, Poland, Germany and Saudi Arabia. Her work is held in the collections of the British Library, Woman’s Library in the UK and the Laguna Art Museum and The Kinsey Institute in the United States.

Born in 1983 Caruana is a practising artist, lecturer of photography and founding director of the London based studioSTRIKE artists studios. She graduated from an MA in photography at the Royal College of Art in 2008 and is currently a lecturer of Photography at the University for the Creative Arts, Farnham, Surrey. Her work was shortlisted for the National Magazine Awards in 2007 and the Deutsche Bank Pyramid prize in 2008. In 2010 Caruana was named as the one to watch in the Royal Photographic Society Journal and the British Journal of Photography and selected by the Humble Arts Foundation as one of 18 leading female art photographers working in the UK.

Go See – Stockholm: Gardar Eide Einarsson ‘Power Has a Fragrance’ at Bonniers Konsthall through June 12, 2011


But, What Ends When The Symbols Shatter
(2009); Caligula (2010). All images courtesy Bonniers Konsthall unless otherwise noted.

Gardar Eide Einarsson is one of the fastest rising Scandinavian contemporary artists, and his exhibition Power Has a Fragrance currently on view at Bonniers Konsthall in Stockholm is a testament to his momentum. Addressing themes of violence, authority, power, paranoia, and alienation, Einarsson draws heavily on graffiti and street culture, transforming appropriated imagery into sophisticated installations that land like spaceships in a minimalist’s paradise.

More text and images after the jump…


Gardar Eide Einarsson

Stockholm, then, is an odd landing spot. It is one of the cleanest cities in Europe, where graffiti is removed minutes after it’s applied. Much like his native Norway, the public’s relationship to the state is controlled in a way that differs greatly from the United States. He explains, “There’s a very different relationship to individualism. It’s almost frowned upon to be excessively individualistic. People are encouraged to have a social frame of mind. . .  . I was just cataloguing all of the repressive imagery,” according to Interview Magazine.

While one may first notice the artist’s skate punk charm, Einarsson has all the credentials of a serious artist. Born in Norway in 1976, Einarsson studied at the National Academy of Fine Art in Bergen and the Staatliche Hochschule fur Bildende Kunste in Frankfurt. After his move to New York City on September 10, 2001 (an experience which Einarsson cites as extremely influential), he entered the Whitney’s Independent Study Program. Since then, he has presented work in the 2008 Whitney Biennial and shown in numerous group and solo shows across Europe and the States, with a recent foray into Japan. Einarsson is represented by Team Gallery in New York, Honor Fraser in Los Angeles, and Standard in Oslo.

The exhibition’s title, like much of Einarsson’s work is an appropriation: in this case it’s a lyric by the post-industrial band Death in June. The song is slow, layered with mechanical sounds, melody, and appropriated speech. But most of all, it’s sinister. Its lyrics read, “This bondage, it has no charms / silence and evil weigh down my arms // We know our god by the things he creates // life, beauty, but most of all hate.” It’s even darker, then, than the Nordic melancholy for which Icelandic artist Ragnar Kjartansson can be considered a poster child. While Einarsson’s work may initially read as sleek or industrial, a deeper look reveals its morose nature. Suicide Mirror, 2007, for instance, is a reproduction of the mirrors that appeared in recent years on the platforms of the Tokyo subway. An attempt to deter people from committing suicide, the mirrors allow people to confront their own reflection in the critical moment. There is, as of yet, no proof of their effectiveness.


Suicide Mirror
(2007); Don’t Believe Anything You Hear (2010).


No Clearance
(2008)


Untitled (Barrels)
(2006)

Equally disquieting is a seemingly-benign reproduction of a baby blue pamphlet entitled How to Destroy Bridges, 2010, which was published in 1988 as an instruction manual on warfare techniques. No Clearance, 2008, reproduces the ubiquitous warning signs on New York subway tracks that alert workers to areas where there is no barrier from oncoming trains and they can easily be harmed. At first glance, Untitled (Barrels), 2006, reads like candy dots, but depicts the placement of explosives used by the Oklahoma City bomber Timothy McVeigh.

When it comes to the exhibition’s theme of power, what we learn is that it isn’t a one-dimensional forceful presence, but rather a force that can be expressed in more subtle ways. Accordingly, the magic of Einarsson’s work is not in what can be perceived, but what cannot. Zeigeist (Compound Security System), 2010, for example, is a reproduction of a high frequency sound box that emits a wavelength audible only to young people. It is widely used in Japan to keep teenagers from loitering. In the exhibition, it is nestled in a hallway that visitors are not sure whether or not they are supposed to enter—and most don’t. In this context, there is no way to know whether or not it is really playing; we just have to trust it’s on.

In the central room of the exhibition, Einarsson strays from his typical seemingly-haphazard, casual installation by hanging the paintings in a classical manner and placing the large sculpture in the center. In doing this, he “turns up the white cube-ness of the rarefied white cube space” and “lets the painting be seen as being about painting.” While Einarsson borrows the aesthetic language of giants like Bruce Nauman, Dan Flavin, and Jenny Holzer, one might gain more insight into his artistic practice from drawing comparisons to Frank Stella, Brice Marden, and Jasper Johns. Although he is perhaps best known for his rotating neon sculpture Untitled (JESUS SAVES), 2009, Einarsson is, above all, a painter. In a video interview with Director of Bonniers Konsthall Sara Arrhenius, Einarsson names power and paranoia as major themes of the exhibition, but returns repeatedly to painting—how it feels, and what it means, to paint.


Untitled (JESUS SAVES)
(2009); Stainless Steel II – V (2010)

“It’s hard to make painting now without talking about what it means to make a painting,” he shares in one interview. “What does it mean to transfer an image onto a canvas? It’s a relatively pointless exercise—the image already exists, there is no real need for painting anymore. So then, if you do do a painting, it has to also have some sort of awareness of being a painting.” In another interview, the artist is all smiles as he relates, “It’s hard to maintain a critical relationship to painting, just because it’s such an enjoyable activity.”

Einarsson’s process involves sifting through images sourced from the Internet and old books bought on eBay until a certain symbol or concept takes hold. He then boils the symbol down to its essential characteristics. An X, for example, which is a traditional symbol of resistance, is the sole visual element of The Meaning of Limited War, 2010. Information is power, but Einarsson does not assert it on his viewers. Instead of obscuring information and alienating viewers, titles and wall labels include references that are searchable in the public domain. But there is actually a hidden hierarchy here, because, as Arrhenius writes in the exhibition catalog, “Einarsson’s art gets its sustenance from a society in which all information is constantly accessible, but readable only by a few. A place in which . . . . a hierarchy of knowledge has been replaced by different, yet equal types of information. In which every explanation seems to serve to conceal another, which may well turn out to be a lie.”


Caligula, Incitatus
(2010)

These lies are visible all throughout the exhibition, but nowhere more obviously than in Einarsson’s paintings. In the act of transferring symbols to the canvas, the artist either eliminates or exaggerate image’s painterliness. The drips, he teases, “are sometimes real and sometimes fake.” To heighten their painterliness, the flags the artist paints are one-sided. An obvious nod to Johns, flags are markers of ideologies. While some of Einarsson’s flags scream phrases like “Liberty or Death,” others lack any symbology whatsoever. Untitled (Sons of Liberty), 2011, appropriates the stripes of a historical American flag but drops the stars; the viewer is left wondering what the flag stands for. The United States of Einarsson, perhaps?


Liberty or Death
(2006)


Untitled (Family Creed)
(2008)

The geometric motif of this painting is derived from a Japanese family crest, but hark back to Malevich’s Suprematist Compositions.


Detail: Untitled (Family Creed), 2008.

Einarsson also mimics another role, that of a set designer or scenographer. His installations set up situations that mimic public space in a theatrical way, for instance, in Untitled (Dining Cluster), 2006, there are reproductions of the cafe tables used in prison. The design of these tables reflect a certain ideology behind their use: the surface is uniform and hard, with neutral coloring. “The tables,” he explains, “are not intended to look nice or be comfortable but rather to prevent certain uses.”


Untitled (Dining Cluster)
(2006); Hate Monger (2010)


Detail: Hate Monger (2010). The artist’s pencil strokes are visible.


Detail: Hate Monger (2010)


Organise or Starve
(2009)

His objects, he says, “are supposed to be a copy or shadow of their real-world selves.” They are props, “they’re not supposed to stand in for real-world things, they’re supposed to just point to other things and to sort of project meaning somehow through that.” The hanging is an important element in this disorientation; Power Has a Fragrance is littered with oversize silkscreen fire hydrants, mail boxes, and lamp posts hung low on the walls, so that the viewer must negotiate his or her own size and distance in relation to them. They are clearly props—they are black and white, gritty, two dimensional—yet we walk next to them as we would in real life, illiciting an amplified awareness.


Installation shot: Baton Exercise (1-9) (2007). Here the boards are stacked three by three rather than all in a line like in previous installations.


Installation shot: Baton Exercise (1-9) (2007). Image courtesy Honor Fraser. Here, all nine police officers stand in line.


Installation shot: Baton Exercise (1-9) (2007). Image courtesy Team Gallery. This is the work installed in Reykjavik.

“My intention is to put the viewer in a state of paranoia,” Einarsson states, “where every object in the exhibition carries a secret and symbolic meaning.” For the artist, paranoia is less a theme than a methodology. “My art takes symbols and images from around the world and kind of forces them into this narrative, which is how I think paranoia functions. It’s overanalyzing the symbols around you and forcing them to mean something within an already set system.”

Einarsson rarely works on one piece at a time, preferring to keep objects in dialogue with one another. In line with his investigations in power, he takes particular delight in controlling the viewer’s route and relation to the work. The change in relationships between pieces has been made especially obvious in this traveling exhibition, which was first presented at the Astrup Fearnley Museum of Modern Art in Oslo and the Reykjavik Art Museum before landing in Stockholm (the final leg of the journey is to Kunsthalle Fridericianum in Kassel, Germany later this year).


Barricade
(2011)

Instead of formalized essays and spacious installation shots, the exhibition catalog reads more like a fanzine. It’s gritty, and littered with studio shots and anecdotal interviews that lend insight into the artist’s practice. It’s a far cry from the formalism of the exhibition, in which each sight line, reflection, and neon glow is considered.

The last “crucial clue” to understanding his work that Einarsson gives us in the video interview is that, “It’s all appropriation. It’s not really work that tries to talk about the world, so much, but it it’s work that tries to talk about the world of images. It’s always an image of an image. It’s never an image of a real world situation, it’s an image of how the real world is mediation.”


Einarsson wears a t-shirt with the Hate Monger design.

The exhibition’s press release states, “Einarsson appropriates everyday imagery to reveal how mass media, and the advertising industry in particular, controls our beliefs and actions. By re-contextualizing corporate logos, tattoos, and graffiti scripts together within the institutional setting of the art exhibition, he constructs a powerful, sophisticated, political irony.” Bonniers Konsthall, then, becomes an interesting choice of venue. Owned by the largest media company in Sweden, the Bonnier Group, the exhibition space opened in 2006 as a venue for emerging Swedish and international artists. The Swedish public’s noticeable skepticism of corporate ventures into art can be seen in the hesitancy to embrace the new Fotografiska, an exhibition hall devoted solely to photography. It is sponsored by Lumix, Audi, and ClearChannel, to name a few, and the traditionalist art world in the country does not quite know what to think of this American-inspired model.


Bonniers Konsthall, exterior view.

Of course, what Arrhenius calls Einarsson’s “captivating visual spareness” and “cool elegance” lends itself magnificently to the austere Konsthall, but it’s unclear what Arrhenius implies when she cheekily writes in her introduction to the catalog that, “The art world nods in agreement, even if it does not know the code.” We might take it as a challenge to learn the codes: this exhibition requires patience, multiple visits, and follow-up research, but the reward is in the questions it provokes.


Detail: Untitled (JESUS SAVES) (2009); No Collaboration (2008)

– J. Lindblad

Related Links:
Exhibition Site [Bonniers Konsthall]
Video Interviews in “Power Has a Fragrance” [Bonniers]
Gardar Eide Einarsson: All My Friends Are Dead [Art Review]
Gardar Eide Einarsson [Interview Magazine]
Gardar Eide Einarsson’s Penchant for Punk [ArtSlant]
Gardar Eide Einarsson [Tema Celeste]
The New Regime [Blackbook]
Oscar Tuazon + Gardar Eide Einarsson [Modern Painter]
Gardar Eide Einarsson at Nils Staerk Copenhagen [Frieze]
Gardar Eide Einarsson Interview [This Week in the Arts]
Review: Power Has a Fragrance at the Astrup Fearnley Museum [Puf-Art]