MNG: Earthseed seems like a ground-breaking exhibition for you. It brings together a number of your interests in a really gritty way. For instance the nature/culture paradigm, most of the larger works in the exhibition express some conflict with this. How do you see it appearing in the show?
AdC: For a long time I have been interested in how we use models from nature to confirm our humanness - be it in the form of morality parables such as Aesop’s tales or in primate research such as that undertaken by Jane Goodall.
Seeking an understanding of our humanness through comparisons to the natural world can be a problem when our perception of nature is either fetishised and overly romanticized, or we seek to answer questions that are in large part cultural – such as what it is to be a citizen, to be a family, or to be female.
At the same time we must also recognize that we are natural organisms. In our Western tradition of thought, we have coded women as Nature and men as Culture, paired nature with the authentic and culture with the fake.
In Earthseed I have tried to mix these codings up. Daffnie (above) still refers to the Greek image of a woman turned into a tree but she is more Top Model culture than she is passive nature in her unnatural posing and nylon frock.
The Crushed Petal series (above) was a direct response to a recent comment on National Radio describing young men as genetically coded for violence. It interested me that this was now a common assertion when not so long ago we would have used a socio/political/economic rationale.
Ideas associated with the nature/culture paradigm are often used in conjunction with the politics of difference. I find them useful for discussing gender but I am equally interested in the politics of the human/animal divide.
Brown Bird (above) where the woman is on her back and hosting a group of small birds could be interpreted as a nest affirming biological function, or it could be read as a reversal of the human animal hierarchy.
MNG: You mentioned you had been looking at Surrealism. What interested you about that?
AdC: Recently I was in Germany, and I saw a show of Surrealist art from the Ulla and Heiner Pietzsch collection. The work was very gutsy and had none of the tweeness we often associate with Surrealism.
The works were dark and brooding, and when seen in the context of Berlin seemed highly political. The work combined a beauty and ugliness to create what was referred to by Surrealists as a “convulsive beauty”. I was interested in replicating this unease in Earthseed.
MNG: Your work often explores - as a subtext rather than overtly - notions of femininity and gender. In this exhibition the female figures actively resist stereotyping, they are hairy or flocked or lactating or bald where as the male figures are damaged as if they've been in a bad car accident or a fight. What was your thinking around this?
AdC:Having watched the art world for so many years it’s very clearly a male dominated arena. I have always wondered to what extent this is due to culture and what extent to nature. I don’t think there is a clear answer but I have always resented the gender disparity.
I think this is why I have a tendency to make my male figures vulnerable in some way: damaged, stupid or gormless. This is just another way of undoing stereotypical representations of men. After all, gender stereotypes have been as problematic for men as they have for women.
Subverting or amplifying these stereotypes are just another way of questioning the stability of what we have come to know as correct or Natural.
European Primitive with Jimmy Choo (above) is an African fertility symbol - an overt representation of female as Nature – pregnant belly, large breasts and even a piglet on her head, but she is dressed in Jimmy Choo shoes.
She is a modern day representation of femininity: flocked and hairy all over, and teetering in her fabulous shoes.
MNG: The works are all made from Polystyrene, which is quite the material of the moment. Peter Robinson's work for the Walters Prize was Polystyrene and it's generally been cropping up as a material of interest to artists. Why did you decide to use it?
AdC: I started using Polystyrene as a material when I found a few huge slabs washed up on the beach after a storm. It’s a dreadful material, toxic and inert but I can’t help but love it. It’s cheap and yet it lasts forever. It can be carved and painted. It’s brittle but tough.
Coming from a sculptural background I can’t help but enjoy the irony of approaching the material as you would marble - you select your block, draw it out and then carve into it. The way I use the Polystyrene is closer to polychrome sculpture - painted wooden sculpture often used as altarpieces.
I can understand why it’s popular. It’s a kind of miracle material of our age; it does everything from building houses to holding water and it’s very easy to get hold of. Unfortunately it’s not biodegradable which means my sculptures will be around forever.
Working with polystyrene has been useful in my work as a means of adding a “not-of-nature-ness” to the work. The concept of woman as Nature, seen in classical images such as Daphne, is nicely undone when constructed in a “human-made” material.
MNG: Do you want to say something about contemporary sculpture and where you see your work fitting?
AdC: In a recent edition of The Reading Room, Natasha Conland coined the term Transcendental Pop to describe a current interest in art that alluded to a type of visual mysticism, be it cynical or otherwise. I think my work fits nicely under this heading along with artists such as David Altmejd and Francis Upritchard.
There is also the problem of sculptural figuration which I find an interesting challenge. It’s really hard to carve out new territory when you are making figures and not be too corny. I really like the work of some one like Rebecca Warren who is using quite traditional materials and methods to create something new.
MNG: Earthseed is a great title. What's the reference there?
AdC: The title comes from an Octavia Butler science-fiction novel that tells the story of Olamina. Living in a dystopian world Olamina suffers from what is defined as hyper-empathy, a disease which causes her to share pain with all other living creatures.
I like the way good science-fiction uses an in depth understanding of contemporary life to construct fictional worlds.
MNG: The exhibition also demonstrates your skill with materials. There's taxidermy which you did yourself, the carved polystyrene, the mirror stand etc. And the exhibition is a clear move away from wool just when it looked like you might settle there awhile. What was your thinking about this?
AdC: Materials present themselves and I use them. They all say something about the site in which I live and work; in a big city you wouldn’t find the same range of dead birds on a single walk around the block!
When I lived in Auckland I scavenged materials from industrial sites and when I moved to Whanganui I shifted to op shops and garage sales. This was how I came to use wool and make carpets and felts. Wool is a wonderful material to use but I was looking for away to extend my sculptural interests in figuration. I made felt figures but I found it difficult to convey more than a certain kind of ironic humor.
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