06-26-2013
"SKINNED": A Conversation with Teddi Rogers
Cuts, Bruises, Memories with Scars (2013). Rose petals on wood panel, 12"x48".
Last month, "SKINNED", an exhibition of new work by Teddi Rogers, opened at the FXFOWLE Gallery. A collection of mixed media pieces created from organic material, the work explores themes of loss, memory and temporality. Rogers, a Manhattan-based artist, graduated in 2008 with a Bachelor of Fine Arts from the School of the Museum of Fine Arts in affiliation with Tufts University. She recently took time to discuss her latest projects with Max Carr, one of the gallery curators.
Naomi (2013). Rose petals, cheese cloth, handmade paper, and human hair on wood panel, 20"x16".
MC: Your work places a strong emphasis on the ephemeral--on evolution and decay. At the same time, it captures fleeting moments and freezes them, a bit like insects trapped in amber or the remains of Pompeii. Are you embracing the impermanence of the materials you're working with, or are you fighting against it? Are you seeking to preserve an otherwise transient emotion or state of mind?
TR: This is an important question. At first thought I would say no, I am not embracing the impermanence of the materials that I work with. If I did, I would be making work that only lasts for a brief moment in time. Instead I make technical choices that slow down and even halt the decay of my materials. This still leaves room for change.
I am not interested in creating impermanent work, but in presenting impermanence. I want my viewer to be faced with the life and death of each piece, and to experience the beautiful and the grotesque nature that accompanies this process. The petals I use are chosen at different stages. Some are fresh, some fading, and some heavily decaying. Each reacts differently once they have been adhered to a surface, and left to change over time.
I cannot speak to how the pieces will evolve or devolve after twenty, thirty, one hundred years of exposure to sunlight and atmosphere, but this uncertainty is all part of my concept. Each piece mirrors the mercurial nature of the life process. I believe the work will hold up, but I cannot guarantee that it will stop changing nor would I want it to. I capture my material mid-lifecycle, and place it in a space where its change is slowed, not controlled. I do not consider preservation to be part of the equation. Each piece is an organic collaboration between myself and the behavior of my material.
Hide Study I (2013). Rose petals on wood panel, 20"x16".
MC: On a somewhat related note, your older pieces have existed for a few years now. How have they aged? Has there been a metamorphosis in the materials? And if so, has it affected how you conceive of your current work?
TR: The clearest change is in the color of the petals. Sometimes this change happens quickly, at the genesis of the piece, and sometimes the change takes place over years. It is not something I can predict or control. The work is beautiful during each stage of its life. If you love the work you do not become attached to any one stage. You experience the piece as it exists each day, and you welcome the changes that have yet to come.
Past work always dictates how I approach my current work. Each piece is a teaching tool, and a stepping stone to the next place of growth in my practice. This is true no matter if I am painting, drawing, or working with petals. The pieces for "Skinned" were created from 7 years of working towards an understanding of how I want to use the material, and what I am trying to say with the work. I could not have created these pieces without creating the ones that came before, and the same goes for future production.
Detail of In Times of War (2011). Rose petals, foam padding, handmade paper, and thread on canvas photo by Joseph Meloy.
MC: Could you describe your creative process? Do you begin with a sketch or a design? Do you begin with the material and allow the work to evolve organically? Or is it something entirely different?
TR: My creative process is fairly organic. I often start with an idea, an image in my mind. Sometimes I jot down a quick sketch. Often this original idea goes through a metamorphosis as I work. The material and new realizations through practice dictate the direction I drive the piece. Sometimes the result is close to the original concept, and sometimes that first idea was just a jumping off point, and the final piece is a complete departure from the image with which I began.
MC: Roses are frequently associated with life and love, tenderness and beauty. Your art seems to subvert this, or at least to offset this symbolism with a sense of despair--helplessness in the face of an often violent chaos. You've created a fragmentation and dismemberment of the beautiful--rose petals, white lace, soft hair--transforming it into the grotesque. Yet there is still something very beautiful in the assemblage of these broken components. Am I misreading this?
TR: As you point out the rose petal is a pre-wrapped gift. It is a material already rich with symbolism revolving around many of the themes I am interested in exploring. They speak of life, death, love, beauty, the ephemeral, etc. The life experience is a jarring ambush of opposing forces that we are confronted by on a daily basis. We live at the same time that we are dying, we love, we hate, we experience birth, loss, and death. If we survive this avalanche we cannot help being affected by it all. My pieces are visceral. They mirror the physical and emotional being. We are moved by the fleeting and fragile state of each petal, because we recognize the same state in ourselves.
(left to right): Detail of Winter in the Forest (2013), rose petals on wood panel; My Sister without Me (2012), watercolor on paper; and Yellow Gladiolas Come Morning (2012), ink on paper.
MC: While this show focuses on pieces from your Skin Series, your drawings exhibit many of the same qualities. In particular, I'm referring to the apparent dichotomy between a loose, sometimes ambiguous composition and tightly controlled and finely rendered detail. I wonder if this derives from a desire to find order in that chaos. Can you speak about your stylistic inclinations and how they relate to your point of view?
TR: My stylistic inclinations are often dark. All of my work includes conceptually dark elements, and its aesthetics are predominantly somber. This is drawn from my attraction to opposing elements. The moments of chaos and control that you are referring to also fall in line with my interest in dichotomy, and how we process contrast. A piece can be beautiful and it can be grotesque, but that grotesque character is always going to play a dominant role and color how the viewer experiences the beauty of the piece. This is a common strand that runs through every body of work I produce.
(left to right): Mother with Child Part II (2011), ink on paper; Mother with Child Part IV (2012), ink on paper; and Mother without Child (2012), ink on paper.
You can see more work by Teddi Rogers at www.teddirogers.com.
Naomi (2013). Rose petals, cheese cloth, handmade paper, and human hair on wood panel, 20"x16".MC: Your work places a strong emphasis on the ephemeral--on evolution and decay. At the same time, it captures fleeting moments and freezes them, a bit like insects trapped in amber or the remains of Pompeii. Are you embracing the impermanence of the materials you're working with, or are you fighting against it? Are you seeking to preserve an otherwise transient emotion or state of mind?
TR: This is an important question. At first thought I would say no, I am not embracing the impermanence of the materials that I work with. If I did, I would be making work that only lasts for a brief moment in time. Instead I make technical choices that slow down and even halt the decay of my materials. This still leaves room for change.
I am not interested in creating impermanent work, but in presenting impermanence. I want my viewer to be faced with the life and death of each piece, and to experience the beautiful and the grotesque nature that accompanies this process. The petals I use are chosen at different stages. Some are fresh, some fading, and some heavily decaying. Each reacts differently once they have been adhered to a surface, and left to change over time.
I cannot speak to how the pieces will evolve or devolve after twenty, thirty, one hundred years of exposure to sunlight and atmosphere, but this uncertainty is all part of my concept. Each piece mirrors the mercurial nature of the life process. I believe the work will hold up, but I cannot guarantee that it will stop changing nor would I want it to. I capture my material mid-lifecycle, and place it in a space where its change is slowed, not controlled. I do not consider preservation to be part of the equation. Each piece is an organic collaboration between myself and the behavior of my material.
Hide Study I (2013). Rose petals on wood panel, 20"x16".MC: On a somewhat related note, your older pieces have existed for a few years now. How have they aged? Has there been a metamorphosis in the materials? And if so, has it affected how you conceive of your current work?
TR: The clearest change is in the color of the petals. Sometimes this change happens quickly, at the genesis of the piece, and sometimes the change takes place over years. It is not something I can predict or control. The work is beautiful during each stage of its life. If you love the work you do not become attached to any one stage. You experience the piece as it exists each day, and you welcome the changes that have yet to come.
Past work always dictates how I approach my current work. Each piece is a teaching tool, and a stepping stone to the next place of growth in my practice. This is true no matter if I am painting, drawing, or working with petals. The pieces for "Skinned" were created from 7 years of working towards an understanding of how I want to use the material, and what I am trying to say with the work. I could not have created these pieces without creating the ones that came before, and the same goes for future production.
Detail of In Times of War (2011). Rose petals, foam padding, handmade paper, and thread on canvas photo by Joseph Meloy.MC: Could you describe your creative process? Do you begin with a sketch or a design? Do you begin with the material and allow the work to evolve organically? Or is it something entirely different?
TR: My creative process is fairly organic. I often start with an idea, an image in my mind. Sometimes I jot down a quick sketch. Often this original idea goes through a metamorphosis as I work. The material and new realizations through practice dictate the direction I drive the piece. Sometimes the result is close to the original concept, and sometimes that first idea was just a jumping off point, and the final piece is a complete departure from the image with which I began.
MC: Roses are frequently associated with life and love, tenderness and beauty. Your art seems to subvert this, or at least to offset this symbolism with a sense of despair--helplessness in the face of an often violent chaos. You've created a fragmentation and dismemberment of the beautiful--rose petals, white lace, soft hair--transforming it into the grotesque. Yet there is still something very beautiful in the assemblage of these broken components. Am I misreading this?
TR: As you point out the rose petal is a pre-wrapped gift. It is a material already rich with symbolism revolving around many of the themes I am interested in exploring. They speak of life, death, love, beauty, the ephemeral, etc. The life experience is a jarring ambush of opposing forces that we are confronted by on a daily basis. We live at the same time that we are dying, we love, we hate, we experience birth, loss, and death. If we survive this avalanche we cannot help being affected by it all. My pieces are visceral. They mirror the physical and emotional being. We are moved by the fleeting and fragile state of each petal, because we recognize the same state in ourselves.
(left to right): Detail of Winter in the Forest (2013), rose petals on wood panel; My Sister without Me (2012), watercolor on paper; and Yellow Gladiolas Come Morning (2012), ink on paper.MC: While this show focuses on pieces from your Skin Series, your drawings exhibit many of the same qualities. In particular, I'm referring to the apparent dichotomy between a loose, sometimes ambiguous composition and tightly controlled and finely rendered detail. I wonder if this derives from a desire to find order in that chaos. Can you speak about your stylistic inclinations and how they relate to your point of view?
TR: My stylistic inclinations are often dark. All of my work includes conceptually dark elements, and its aesthetics are predominantly somber. This is drawn from my attraction to opposing elements. The moments of chaos and control that you are referring to also fall in line with my interest in dichotomy, and how we process contrast. A piece can be beautiful and it can be grotesque, but that grotesque character is always going to play a dominant role and color how the viewer experiences the beauty of the piece. This is a common strand that runs through every body of work I produce.
(left to right): Mother with Child Part II (2011), ink on paper; Mother with Child Part IV (2012), ink on paper; and Mother without Child (2012), ink on paper.You can see more work by Teddi Rogers at www.teddirogers.com.