EPHEMERAL SYMBOLS & MASKS
Karen Azoulay
interviewed by
David García Casado
David García Casado: What makes for you the start point of your creative process?
Karen Azoulay: Most of my work begins with an ephemeral moment. For example, these mixed media pieces on paper began with clay and fresh flowers. I start with that photographic imagery and then carry it through several layers of translation.
DGC: Are you looking for a sort of like painting aesthetic result or are you working with more symbolic aspects of the creation of the image?
KA: I wouldn’t consider that an either / or proposition. The imagery that I gravitate towards tends to be embedded with symbolism or allegorical suggestion. My process moves these images through layers of translation, taking the subject matter through a variety of techniques. Many of my projects begin with a moment of what I call performative sculpture, and my materials can include fresh flowers, wet clay, and a body (often my own). It is a brief moment that I capture as a photograph before it all falls apart. I manipulate the prints through a process of collage and then final works on paper or panel are often completed with paint and oil pastel. I consider myself to be an inter-disciplinary artist, but I feel most engaged when my hands are getting dirty. Even though I am capturing something as a photograph, I am not interested in the photography at all.
DGC: Do you mean you are not interested in the stillness of photographs?
KA: Stillness is one of the aspects of photography that I am most interested in. What I meant is that I am not interested in the camera or creating the “perfect photograph”. I want to capture something fleeting… freezing a moment. Once I print it out, I can put the imagery back into my hands to manually build upon it.
Karen Azoulay: Most of my work begins with an ephemeral moment. For example, these mixed media pieces on paper began with clay and fresh flowers. I start with that photographic imagery and then carry it through several layers of translation.
DGC: Are you looking for a sort of like painting aesthetic result or are you working with more symbolic aspects of the creation of the image?
KA: I wouldn’t consider that an either / or proposition. The imagery that I gravitate towards tends to be embedded with symbolism or allegorical suggestion. My process moves these images through layers of translation, taking the subject matter through a variety of techniques. Many of my projects begin with a moment of what I call performative sculpture, and my materials can include fresh flowers, wet clay, and a body (often my own). It is a brief moment that I capture as a photograph before it all falls apart. I manipulate the prints through a process of collage and then final works on paper or panel are often completed with paint and oil pastel. I consider myself to be an inter-disciplinary artist, but I feel most engaged when my hands are getting dirty. Even though I am capturing something as a photograph, I am not interested in the photography at all.
DGC: Do you mean you are not interested in the stillness of photographs?
KA: Stillness is one of the aspects of photography that I am most interested in. What I meant is that I am not interested in the camera or creating the “perfect photograph”. I want to capture something fleeting… freezing a moment. Once I print it out, I can put the imagery back into my hands to manually build upon it.
DGC: Can we go back to what you mentioned about the ephemeral moments? Can you explain more about what attracts you of those moments?
KA: Many of the materials that inspire me are precarious by nature. A cut flower for example will quickly wilt and then decay. I like these bold stroke representations of time, and transformation. The themes that I work with have always been related to natural elements in connection with the human body… really basic and timeless iconography like the hand or the mask in relationship to different earthly motifs.
DGC: And also skin, human skin I see? There is a kind of human embodiment of the ephemeral.
KA: Skin makes a terrific surface and vehicle. It is so animal and performative. Much of my work relates to the theatrical tableau vivant, the 19th Century staged vignettes. Years ago I made a piece called ‘The Astronomer’s Mime’, and I also had a show titled ‘The Botanist’s Mime’. I love the idea of creating the personification of an elemental force or a pantomime of a feeling. Another cultural trend from the 19th century that I have been drawn to is floriography, the Victorian language of flowers.
KA: Many of the materials that inspire me are precarious by nature. A cut flower for example will quickly wilt and then decay. I like these bold stroke representations of time, and transformation. The themes that I work with have always been related to natural elements in connection with the human body… really basic and timeless iconography like the hand or the mask in relationship to different earthly motifs.
DGC: And also skin, human skin I see? There is a kind of human embodiment of the ephemeral.
KA: Skin makes a terrific surface and vehicle. It is so animal and performative. Much of my work relates to the theatrical tableau vivant, the 19th Century staged vignettes. Years ago I made a piece called ‘The Astronomer’s Mime’, and I also had a show titled ‘The Botanist’s Mime’. I love the idea of creating the personification of an elemental force or a pantomime of a feeling. Another cultural trend from the 19th century that I have been drawn to is floriography, the Victorian language of flowers.
DGC: Floriography seems very connected with this idea of a language of the symbolic, that there is a code but still it’s not so literal but it’s more an interpretation, a kind of wish. In a way, you are willing to decide what you want things to express and under which conditions meaning is determined, which it’s connected with the essence of the language.
KA: I see floriography as more of a poem than a prayer. Using a flower dictionary, a love letter can be composed as a thoughtfully prepared bouquet, each flower conjuring a phrase to be read, one by one. The symbols attributed to various flowers seem random, and in fact different publications do list conflicting definitions, but for the most part there is a fascinating root meaning for each symbol. For instance, a large and beautiful flower with no fragrance often was connected to negative associations. The dahlia is said to signify instability, while a small and more visually modest but fragrant flower would likely have an honorable association like piety. This is a direct reflection of 19th Century Western ideas about what characteristics a woman should or shouldn’t have.
There are different lexicons of flower symbolism all over the world. It is fascinating to look at the different associations that a specific plant may represent in different cultures. The same leaf likely has a different significance in China or Turkey or with in the various Indigenous traditions in the Americas.
DGC: In some level could you say that the work you do with hands is related with the use of the hand gestures by secret societies like the Illuminati, the Freemasons… Is that something that has interested you to appropriate for your work?
KA: The series of photographs that I made for my flower dictionary ‘ Flowers and Their Meanings’ combined hand gestures with flowers that had a compatible meaning. For example, I paired the peace sign with cosmos, which mean ‘peaceful’. For the fist of solidarity I selected borage and gladiola, which reads as ‘courage’ and ‘strength of character’. I thought it was interesting to think of the flower code as the emojis of its day. Combining such easily recognizable hand gestures felt like a useful way to help the viewer read the flowers more intuitively.
I don’t really know anything about the organizations that you mentioned. If there are any secretive cultures of communication that I am interested in, they are most likely connected to ways that women share their feelings with each other.
KA: I see floriography as more of a poem than a prayer. Using a flower dictionary, a love letter can be composed as a thoughtfully prepared bouquet, each flower conjuring a phrase to be read, one by one. The symbols attributed to various flowers seem random, and in fact different publications do list conflicting definitions, but for the most part there is a fascinating root meaning for each symbol. For instance, a large and beautiful flower with no fragrance often was connected to negative associations. The dahlia is said to signify instability, while a small and more visually modest but fragrant flower would likely have an honorable association like piety. This is a direct reflection of 19th Century Western ideas about what characteristics a woman should or shouldn’t have.
There are different lexicons of flower symbolism all over the world. It is fascinating to look at the different associations that a specific plant may represent in different cultures. The same leaf likely has a different significance in China or Turkey or with in the various Indigenous traditions in the Americas.
DGC: In some level could you say that the work you do with hands is related with the use of the hand gestures by secret societies like the Illuminati, the Freemasons… Is that something that has interested you to appropriate for your work?
KA: The series of photographs that I made for my flower dictionary ‘ Flowers and Their Meanings’ combined hand gestures with flowers that had a compatible meaning. For example, I paired the peace sign with cosmos, which mean ‘peaceful’. For the fist of solidarity I selected borage and gladiola, which reads as ‘courage’ and ‘strength of character’. I thought it was interesting to think of the flower code as the emojis of its day. Combining such easily recognizable hand gestures felt like a useful way to help the viewer read the flowers more intuitively.
I don’t really know anything about the organizations that you mentioned. If there are any secretive cultures of communication that I am interested in, they are most likely connected to ways that women share their feelings with each other.
DGC: In the video you showed us, there’s this diagram of lines which kind of forms a mask, and I would say that it looks like a protecting mask or some face diagram that serves a function. I like the fact that in the video there’s not a concordance, it’s like you are moving your face and the mask is also moving but there is rarely a moment where both face and mask meet. I think it expresses a kind of an ongoing search in the artist work, always looking for ways to express something, never truly attached to a particular identity scheme, always drafting identity lines… but perhaps that’s just my view.
KA: I like your interpretation. With this floating mask imagery, I was thinking about the pairing of wounds with bandages, and other things like facial recognition software. Every smart phone now has the potential to create quite sophisticated cgi selfie animations, but aside from simple tricks like ‘green screen’, I am only interested in making illusions through handmade “practical” effects. I used all sorts of special FX techniques, made latex prosthetics for myself, fake scars, body paint… I have been creating various scenes where the same linear pattern reappears on my face, but always manifested in a different way.
The tentative title for this work in progress is ‘Lines of Desire’, which is a term used to describe the pathways created by heavy pedestrian traffic. It’s like when everyone is cutting across a field in the same place, and a dirt groove is carved into the otherwise green grass. I’m curious to explore ways that the neurological pathways associated with trauma and healing could be illustrated. I’m fleshing these ideas out in a very intuitive way. Something about the layers matching up for only a moment before losing their groove feels right. Maybe it’s something like inner searching.
DGC: Talking about your work process; is your experience working as an artist in residence much different than the one you have working regularly at your studio and if so, how is it different for you?
KA: I just returned from a residency at Banff Centre, in the Canadian Rockies, which was such a great experience. I wanted to take advantage of all of the resources, and so, in many ways my process there was very intense and sped up. Of course a residency offers a break from the distractions and responsibilities of everyday life, but one major thing that surprised me was how much time was saved by completely eliminating a commute.
DGC: Can you recommend any books you are reading now, artists you are being inspired by?
KA: A book that continues to spark conversations for me is Braiding Sweetgrass - Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants by Robin Wall Kimmerer. She is a botanist who has a really compelling way of weaving a telling of personal and cultural relationships with plants along with accessible plant science. A lot of the reading I do is for the sci-fi book club that I’m in with a great group of friends. We have 26 titles under our collective belt… although I have played hooky for a few. Some of my favorites have been Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler, Three Body Problem by Liu Cixin, and Trouble on Triton by Samuel R. Delany.
I’ve been in dialogue with a few really inspiring artists in preparation for shows that we are working on together. I just visited Bianca Beck’s studio in upstate New York, and it was so exciting to see the amazing sculptures that she has been working on! I’m really looking forward to showing with her and Kylie Lockwood, who is also an incredible artist, at the Simone DeSousa Gallery in Detroit this coming June. Amy Brener is another favorite artist who I will be showing with at the Erin Stump Gallery in Toronto in the fall.
KA: I like your interpretation. With this floating mask imagery, I was thinking about the pairing of wounds with bandages, and other things like facial recognition software. Every smart phone now has the potential to create quite sophisticated cgi selfie animations, but aside from simple tricks like ‘green screen’, I am only interested in making illusions through handmade “practical” effects. I used all sorts of special FX techniques, made latex prosthetics for myself, fake scars, body paint… I have been creating various scenes where the same linear pattern reappears on my face, but always manifested in a different way.
The tentative title for this work in progress is ‘Lines of Desire’, which is a term used to describe the pathways created by heavy pedestrian traffic. It’s like when everyone is cutting across a field in the same place, and a dirt groove is carved into the otherwise green grass. I’m curious to explore ways that the neurological pathways associated with trauma and healing could be illustrated. I’m fleshing these ideas out in a very intuitive way. Something about the layers matching up for only a moment before losing their groove feels right. Maybe it’s something like inner searching.
DGC: Talking about your work process; is your experience working as an artist in residence much different than the one you have working regularly at your studio and if so, how is it different for you?
KA: I just returned from a residency at Banff Centre, in the Canadian Rockies, which was such a great experience. I wanted to take advantage of all of the resources, and so, in many ways my process there was very intense and sped up. Of course a residency offers a break from the distractions and responsibilities of everyday life, but one major thing that surprised me was how much time was saved by completely eliminating a commute.
DGC: Can you recommend any books you are reading now, artists you are being inspired by?
KA: A book that continues to spark conversations for me is Braiding Sweetgrass - Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge and the Teachings of Plants by Robin Wall Kimmerer. She is a botanist who has a really compelling way of weaving a telling of personal and cultural relationships with plants along with accessible plant science. A lot of the reading I do is for the sci-fi book club that I’m in with a great group of friends. We have 26 titles under our collective belt… although I have played hooky for a few. Some of my favorites have been Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler, Three Body Problem by Liu Cixin, and Trouble on Triton by Samuel R. Delany.
I’ve been in dialogue with a few really inspiring artists in preparation for shows that we are working on together. I just visited Bianca Beck’s studio in upstate New York, and it was so exciting to see the amazing sculptures that she has been working on! I’m really looking forward to showing with her and Kylie Lockwood, who is also an incredible artist, at the Simone DeSousa Gallery in Detroit this coming June. Amy Brener is another favorite artist who I will be showing with at the Erin Stump Gallery in Toronto in the fall.
Karen Azoulay is a Canadian artist based in Brooklyn whose interdisciplinary works connect performance, sculpture, photography and mixed media. Solo exhibitions include CUE Art Foundation, New York, curated by Glenn Ligon; Four Gallery, Dublin; Mercer Union, Toronto; Primetime, Brooklyn; Dose Projects, Brooklyn; and Drew University, Madison, NJ. Her work has been featured and reviewed in publications including The New York Times, The New Yorker, C Magazine, ReadyMade and Vogue. Her installations and performances include commissions for institutions such as The Art Gallery of Ontario, Canadian Art Magazine, and The Power Plant. Azoulay self published ‘Flowers and Their Meanings, a guide for deciphering’ which was launched at The Perennial, a group show that she curated at The Grecian Shelter, Prospect Park, Brooklyn. Upcoming Projects include ‘Root of the Head; Karen Azoulay, Bianca Beck & Kylie Lockwood’ at Simone DeSousa Gallery in Detroit, and a two person show with Amy Brener at Erin Stump Projects in Toronto.
www.karenazoulay.com
David García Casado is a visual artist and art critic. PhD in Fine Arts from the University of Castilla La Mancha. Recently has published the book of essays “Buscando Invisibles” (ESTE). He currently lives in New York where he develops his art practice and works as correspondent on cultural affairs.
http://www.davidgarciacasado.net/
Instagram @davidloss
Leila Jacue is a photographer, M.A. in Audiovisual Communication by the European University of Madrid. Her work has been featured all over the world in magazines such as Glamour, GQ Spain, Girls on Film, Kaltblut Magazine, CAKE Magazine and Boys by Girls. She currently lives and works in New York City.
http://www.leilajacue.com/
Instagram @leilajacue
www.karenazoulay.com
David García Casado is a visual artist and art critic. PhD in Fine Arts from the University of Castilla La Mancha. Recently has published the book of essays “Buscando Invisibles” (ESTE). He currently lives in New York where he develops his art practice and works as correspondent on cultural affairs.
http://www.davidgarciacasado.net/
Instagram @davidloss
Leila Jacue is a photographer, M.A. in Audiovisual Communication by the European University of Madrid. Her work has been featured all over the world in magazines such as Glamour, GQ Spain, Girls on Film, Kaltblut Magazine, CAKE Magazine and Boys by Girls. She currently lives and works in New York City.
http://www.leilajacue.com/
Instagram @leilajacue