Self-Isolation

April 29, 2020

In a reality confined by four walls, where do two creative directors turn when the only models they are left to work with are themselves? Created by the indomitable Betsy Johnson and powerhouse Kurt Johnson, “Self-Isolation” is a collaborative photo series that takes the form of a quarantine diary.

Former fashion editor of King Kong Magazine, Kurt demonstrates his ability to create visually striking imagery yet again. Meanwhile, Betsy, a renowned stylist in her own right, brings distinct creative direction to compliment the tech-infused production. Both artists have yet to meet in person though it’s impossible to tell that they haven’t—their collaboration is simply that seamless.

“We always knew our worlds made sense together, but it's been so great to actually see everything blend together. Excited for what we can achieve outside of quarantine when an ocean and 892147289357 time zones don’t stand between us,” says Betsy in an interview with office.

Interview by Logan Brown
Creative direction, photos + styling by Betsy Johnson and Kurt Johnson

Lead — Full look by Sevali.

We sat down with the artists to chat about their latest series, their creative processes, and the future of fashion as they see it post COVID-19.

Jacket by Luis de Javier, sunglasses by Dior, all other items stylist's own.

Each look possesses a despairing, futuristic, sharp energy. The red and black defy the spring colors that we typically equate with this time of year. Why the deeper and darker hues?

BETSY JOHNSON: I used mostly young artists as per most of my existing work. I love supporting young designers for creative and sustainability reasons. Our aesthetics are inherently dark; I tend not to see seasons in the conventional sense when I approach my work.

KURT JOHNSON: I’ve always been getting ready for the apocalypse, I guess.

Jewelry by Cashmere Malekitsch.

What resources were used for this series, for example Photo Booth, iPhone camera, etc.?

BJ: Photo Booth, iPhone, Polaroid, anything we had in our homes to capture imagery with. I use print and scan methods a lot, also my selfie tripod and Bluetooth button are my first assistants at this point honestly—an 8£ ebay godsend for the new stay-at-home creative direction and self portraits.

KJ: If it was contemporary technology, and I had access to it, I used it.

Left — Jacket by Luis de Javier, sunglasses by Dior, all other items stylist's own.

Right — Jewelry by Ryan Storer.

With all these new stay-at-home and DIY photo series and everybody learning to do that, do you think it will be detrimental to photographers post-isolation?

BJ: I'm isolated completely away from my creative family. It's something I am really missing, and there is such a richness to fashion photography and shoots with production and wider teams that I hope it will not dissolve through this pandemic’s temporary experimentation/coping phase. Where would we be as a creative generation without our Nick Knights, Steven Klein, Mert Alas, etc. We need their timeless work and new emerging photographers with each generation that emerges.

KJ: I hope the photographer won’t be eliminated. I miss working with my creative collaborators and the teams of people I am so lucky to work with outside of my bedroom. I do think it’s been fun to realize the potential level of work we can create ourselves at home, but I truly hope that we can come out of this more excited than ever to collaborate with other artists with newfound skill sets and inspiration.

Full look by Daisy.

Were you all talking on a group call when the direction was being advised? Did each of you individually style yourselves or have the styling come from one person while the other did another role?

BJ: We were DMing discussing the lockdown and how it will implicate our worlds back in early March. We’ve been itching to collaborate since forever, so we just decided, “Fuck it. In a world all gone digital, let’s just do something now.” We started sending references back and forth, wrote the treatment together and styled ourselves. We always knew our worlds made sense together, but it's been so great to actually see everything blend together. Excited for what we can achieve outside of quarantine when an ocean and 892147289357 time zones don’t stand between us.

KJ: We both chatted about the concept via email. It’s been fun getting to work on something together as we had both always wanted the opportunity to do so, but we’re separated by a huge ocean. With isolation, now everyone is working virtually. It was the perfect time.

Latex by Dead Lotus Couture, skirt by Namilia, bag by Staf Van Looveren.

With the no-face and the cowboy hat look, can I get a bit of an explanation on what is being expressed here? I find the styling so intriguing.

BJ: The corner store on my street has the latest headlines on the door everyday. Growing up, my parents had old newspapers from the wars, so I started buying the papers with surreal headlines. I collect print media like this, call me old-fashioned. Ask my friends in London stuck storing my stacks and stacks of magazines I use as a bedside table and refuse to get rid of. I saw a reference when curating the concept of paper on the face and thought it could be interesting to involve. I'm not a model, so any excuse to be a more anonymous presence in my work was firmly seized.

Left — Full look by Namilia.

Right — Harness, garters and bag by Zana Bayne, dress by all is a gentle spring.

What advice do you have about staying genuine to your efforts in terms of being authentic when you have the world at your fingertips on your iPhone or computer?

BJ: I think mind your business, and stay in your own lane. Don’t overthink it. Whatever you're doing, if it's not authentic, you’ve already failed. Always live your own story, find references true to yourself, and if you’re an artist, use them.

KJ: Don’t forget to go offline. Reconnect with yourself and sit with your ideas and your emotions. Absorbing so much information all the time makes it easy to just regurgitate ideas and information rather than creating something authentic. Allow yourself the time to sit with your ideas and work on something great rather than rushing yourself to produce work we have already seen. We have an amazing opportunity right now to slow down; embrace it.

Full look by Luis De Javier

With both of you having earned success in the art world, does the destructive or negative side of technology play a part in changing the way you view yourself or others around you? How do you go about separating the online versions of your brands or yourself with the day-to-day version?

BJ: I think over the years my work/online presence/brand, whatever you want to call it, has become an extension of my work/myself. I try not to overthink it. I’m a person and just have this weird app that I curate my creative world with. I did a project titled “Instant Dysmorphia” late last year, which was a take on this conversation, how we beat ourselves up inside and out the more we change ourselves for the external world.

KJ: I feel like my online brand and my IRL self are one in the same. I really try to share humanity and compassion and speak on matters that mean something to me on my Instagram. Technology is what you make of it.

Left — Socks stylist's own.

Right — Full look by Gucci.

With nowhere to go, it's almost like social media and the internet is somewhere to be with virtual everything right now. In your opinion, how will that help support the fashion and art industries?

BJ: I think there’s a really great opportunity here to shed a light on emerging artists really taking isolation into their stride and finding new ways of creating. I’ve already heard countless stories of huge publications turning down stories from artists and ripping them off two weeks later by creating them in-house. This is a time to shed a light on our key workers, young artists and new ideas. The world is listening, journalists and editors need to stop giving us meaningless content that just feeds the beast of celebrity culture and use their power wisely.

KJ: The idea of virtual runway shows, which we have seen with the announcement of London Fashion Week becoming gender non-specific and happening online, is something that will be exciting to witness. We have had the capabilities to do this for years, and this pandemic has been a violent push to really embrace technology in ways we have not yet utilised en masse. It will be exciting to see the ways in which our industries move forward during this year and how we can potentially shift the way some parts of our industry function to have less of an impact on the planet by embracing technology.

Shirt, shorts, socks, shoes and tie by Prada, garters and collar by Zana Bayne.

Is the use of technology in this series something you wish to see after self-isolation is brought to an end? What would that look like through your eyes?

BJ: I’ve always been a fan of mixed media. It's such a subtle way to elevate or develop a project. More of this please.

KJ: Working via our computers alone has opened up the possibilities of collaborating more easily from opposite corners of the globe. I would love to see this embraced after isolation.

Full look by Naomi Tarazi.

With this series being about self-isolation, you were technically working alone. But with all of your collaboration efforts, you were also not exactly alone. What did you learn from this photoshoot that you wish to bring into existence once we aren't quarantined?

BJ: I felt completely transported back two years to university with very limited resources, creating DIY Guerilla-style imagery from my tiny flat. It was kind of fun to be thrown back into that “what the fuck can I make with no resources” mentality, but with the past two years of growth under my belt. I'm glad we’re finding space for this kind of work again, and I think this is a really great time for young artists to flex what they're capable of. It's funny, because we’re used to making content with no resources—it could be our time to shine with production out the window.

KJ: Embracing technology is something we shouldn’t shy away from. Working together via email and text was easier than it seems.

Art

Pamela Sneed’s Speaking Tongue opens at Dashwood Projects

November 15, 2024

Pamela Sneed’s latest exhibition, Speaking Tongue, will be on view at Dashwood Projects from November 20 to December 21. The show features twenty watercolor and ink paintings inspired by her recent trip to Kenya, where she was deeply moved by the elegance of giraffes, the landscapes, and the energy of Nairobi.

Blending her background as a poet and visual artist, Sneed’s work reflects on themes of identity, nature, and connection. Her paintings capture the beauty and spirit of the animals she encountered, alongside reflections on her own experiences as part of the African diaspora.

This exhibition marks Sneed’s first solo show with Dashwood Projects and will be accompanied by a new book, also titled Speaking Tongue, to be released in December.

By Enzo Holdt
Artworks by Pamela Sneed

Art

Tiebreaker - Alvin Armstrong

November 15, 2024

There is a moment of silence right before the play. Just before the racket strikes the ball as it hangs weightless in the air, breathless and charged. It’s the fleeting yet decisive instant that can alter the course of the match, determining who wins and who loses.

Alvin Armstrong depicts this crucial moment in his new exhibition Tiebreaker, symbolizing the risks and rewards of competition. It’s an implication of something else at stake, where athletes push not only their bodies, but their spirits to the absolute limit.

The dynamic figures embody the strength, grace, and agility juxtaposed by the vibrant color palette evoking not just the joy of competition but the charged energy of the court.

Tiebreaker is opening Thursday, November 16th at Anna Zorina Gallery.

By Rea Brayshaw
Artworks by Alvin Armstrong

Art

The Things People Are Ashamed To Take Photos Of: The Photography and Films of Yuhan Cheng

Yuhan’s latest exhibition of photo and video work titled 窗子外 Outside the Window, Inside the Tank 鱼缸里 takes its namesake from what could’ve been a mundane encounter. A month after moving to New York City from Chengdu, China, they stumbled across an abandoned fish tank left curbside. It reminded them of “the rotating fish in a tank that faded into the background of their mother’s home in Chengdu”, a thread connecting childhood familiarity that transformed into a symbol of greater significance in adulthood. A tank is a world within a world; a microcosm secluded from the broader chaos of the outside. Since then Yuhan has captured the other kinds of “fish tanks” closest to them in their photography and short films. Not literal ones necessarily– but intimate confined spaces in Chengdu and NYC where time stands still.

In the midst of taking snapshots of loved ones, Yuhan decided to turn their tender but examining lens on themselves. They realized shooting self-portraits unraveled a deeper understanding of their own nonbinary gender and queer sexuality. Yuhan admits in one of their short films “I hide from looking at my own body.” Yet, in the seclusion of their room which doubles as a dark room, Yuhan began to develop their first nude photos chronicling the subtle wounds; bitten cuticles, bruises, and scrapes they’ve accumulated involuntarily, once again documenting the things people choose to hide.

窗子外 Outside the Window, Inside the Tank 鱼缸里, debuted at FAR-NEAR Studio Hours a gallery in Chinatown focused on expanding the art world's view of Asia and Asian artists curated by Lulu Yao Gioiello. The event merged Yuhan’s works from the past three years, including 70 photographs, three short documentaries, and one installation. There was something uncanny about the gallery’s atmosphere – from the dollar store teal green curtains obscuring every window to the clusters of framed photos mimicking how photos of relatives are displayed in one’s childhood home, to the darkened lighting that was both disorienting and cozy. All these details were meticulously chosen to imitate the rooms depicted in Yuhan’s films and photography. In other words, the audience was invited to Yuhan’s “fishtank”, to share the odd balance of comfort and unease of being known intimately. We talked to Yuhan at Cafe Reggio to understand how their latest body of work came into being.

Initially, I was exploring my friends’ identities through the lens, but slowly, it became a tool to confront and understand my own queerness and gender identity.

Ora Margolis— Were any memories/childhood experiences you had in Chengdu important to how you've developed as an artist?

Yuhan Cheng— Growing up in Chengdu, especially in a military household, shaped and gave me a source of contention how I understood my identity. There was always a sense of conflict when it came to my body and feeling like I didn’t quite fit the expectations around me. This tension has been a driving force in my practice, pushing me to explore identity and belonging in my work.

Tell us a bit about your latest exhibition Outside the Window, Inside the Tank at Far. What headspace were you in when taking these photos?

YC— Outside the Window, Inside the Tank is about the fluidity of self; our bodies, our environments, and our identities. The idea of water as both a symbol of confinement and freedom is central to the photos and film that comprise the exhibit. This fluidity much like how I see my experience moving between Chengdu and New York, where similar feelings follow me no matter where I am. Water mirrors the body, the frame, and the room, which are all containers of the self.

Previously, you’ve said you wanted the exhibition space to look "like your room". How did you make that happen and why is your NYC room important to you?

YC— My room in NYC is an extension of my identity. It’s where I feel vulnerable and where I explore myself most openly. It’s a manifestation of my sense of self. I recreated certain elements in the exhibition—the green sheer curtains, the dollar store shower curtain with bubbles, and the center installation depicted a self-portrait deteriorating in water, reminiscent of a fish in a tank. This room, like any other room or container, magnifies the tension of self-exploration.

Has your idea or comfort with your gender identity and /sexuality changed since you’ve delved into photography?

YC— Yes. The process of photography and filming has been a mirror to my own understanding of self. Initially, I was exploring my friends’ identities through the lens, but slowly, it became a tool to confront and understand my own queerness and gender identity. The process of photographing my queer friends and then myself allowed me to come to terms with who I am.

How did you and Lulu Yao of FAR-NEAR Studio meet, and what makes her a good collaborator?

YC— We first connected when I reached out with my series Princess of Funan River. Lulu understood the struggles and complexities in the work and she invited me to expand on those ideas with her. Our collaboration has worked because Lulu truly resonates with the themes I’m drawn to, like fluidity, transformation, and the intimacy of navigating belonging.

After completing Fish Tank and Remnants of an Amateur Film, what kind of movie do you want to make next?

YC— Right now, I’m more focused on writing. I need to understand what I want to say before making another film. Writing helps me find clarity;it’s a crucial part of my process.

What kind of camera do you use and why?

YC— I use a Canon AE-1. I started with it and I still love it. It's small, spontaneous, easy to use, and light. It allows me to capture moments naturally without overthinking.

What's your biggest fear?

YC— Being disconnected from my sense of self, from others, and from the things I love.

When do you feel most like yourself?

YC— It’s during those fleeting moments when I complete a project. That feeling fades quickly, leaving me searching for the next project to reconnect with that sense of fulfillment.

How do you want people to feel when they interact with your art?

YC— I want them to feel whatever resonates with them. I don’t want to prescribe the experience; it should feel right for each person.

Your work focuses on the close knit communities that surround you or various metaphorical “fish tanks”. What communities do you feel closest to?
YC— The queer artist community, both in Chengdu and NYC, has been a source of comfort and understanding for me. There’s something about shared struggles and shared creative language that feels like home.

What's the biggest difference between living life as a queer artist in NYC and in Chengdu?

YC— In both NYC and Chengdu, I’m learning more about myself. NYC offers a sense of freedom, while Chengdu is home, a place of comfort and history. Neither place defines me but both are significant parts of my path.

What are your next moves/goals?

YC— I want to continue exploring both film and photography, expanding my narrative style and experimenting across mediums. During my show, I found new ways of seeing my photographs such as by adding a window screen between frames or letting a self-portrait fade and grow mold in water. These approaches allowed me to see my work not just as 2D images but as 3D objects.

I want to keep pushing the boundaries of how photo and film can interact, and I’m also interested in trying photojournalism. My focus remains on collaborating across mediums and continuing to accumulate experiences that I can translate into sincere honest work.