'Fluff War' and 'Wildlife' are on view through June 15, 2019 at Anton Kern Gallery. All images courtesy the gallery. Lead image: 'Untitled (Exhibition of Dust)' David Shrigley.
I know you're based out in Oakland. How do you like New York?
Oh, gosh, I've been coming to New York every year for 20 years. I have five aunts in Harlem, and a grand aunt that's lived in Long Island since the sixties. I have more family here than I do out in California to be honest and I'm originally from Alabama. All that to say that New York is like a second home to me.
Has it changed a lot over the time that you've been coming here?
Oh God. Yeah, totally. I'm like so fucking old, right? I started touring here during the Electoral Clash era. I remember when the first American apparel opened in Williamsburg, that’s how fucking old I am.
That's not that old.
It ain't that young either. [Laughs]
Could you tell me about your solo show, Anti alter-ego?
Yes. Essentially, it's an intervention on persona. As a fiction writer and a performer, I wanted to investigate people's assumptions on persona and character. I wanted to see what it says about how we look at other people and how that reflects on us. As corny as it sounds, it’s also about the search for truth and the idea of public image in an era where we lean so heavily on self identity and claiming what our self identity is. Public image is always what others think of you, not what you think of yourself, I wanted to explore the tension between these two things.
How would you describe your public persona?
Oh God, I would describe it as indescribable. I'm a lot of things. I'm a mess. I'm an uncle. I'm chill, I'm not chill. That question is essentially unanswerable. Right. There's no one real truth about us. Right.
Are you the fun uncle?
Yeah, probably. I'm definitely the one that'll just send the money, no questions asked. The babies call up and say 'I need this' and I'm just like 'Okay, fine.' So definitely, yes.
How do you feel about your audience assuming that your work is autobiographical?
I mean, they can kind of assume whatever they want but there's also the tension between what value judgment are they placing on if it’s true or isn’t. Did anyone ever go up to J.D. Salinger about The Catcher in the Rye and ask if it’s a true story?
In theater and art, we present stories to teach about the human condition. Are the stories true? Of course they're true. What hasn’t happened under the sun? It seems that we live in a world where on a canon level, only a certain group of straight white men are smart enough or have access to write fiction and have it be of value to the human existence.
With everyone else, it has to be based on real life.
Especially people of color, women, and gays. We always have to be writing from a place of memoir or we must be spilling our guts, our tea, the most excruciating parts of our lives or else our work has no value.
What do you feel is the value of art?
Oh, I feel like it can be very therapeutic for people. I feel like it's as necessary as eating or shitting. It's like a pressure valve for a lot of people. I think a lot of art is essentially worthless and that's fine too.
I was a theater major and I read a book by Uta Hagen. There was some point she made and it was about them people on the fucking subways or in the banks who scream on the phone at somebody or have these public blowups. It's because that person probably doesn't have access to things like theater and art. They need their anger witnessed.
Do you think that the ideas around labeling art and artists have changed?
Yeah, totally. People love to say that I'm a multi-hyphenate. I'm this, that and the other. My multi-hyphenate came from the gig economy. My multi-hyphenate came from the fact that I needed to keep a paycheck in a world where we have so much ready access to every form of art. No one hires photographers to take photos anymore because we have so much access to camera phones.
I knew that if I didn't do the thing, someone else was gonna get that paycheck. It wasn't based on me trying to be a renaissance man. I don't think that the multi-hyphenate tag is sacred. I think it's based in capitalism and there’s something very dark about it.
I agree. I’m a filmmaker but I also write for money.
Sometimes when you make film. Even when I make little art films, I gotta do the lighting, I gotta hire everybody. I gotta be the promotional force. We don't get to just sit on our director's chair and boss people around.
If you could travel back in time, what era would you go back to?
No era? Like, I don't want to be a black person traveling through time at all. Actually, maybe I would go to New York in the late seventies just to see what it was like. I don’t really understand the seventies. Maybe 20 years ago, I thought I understood the eighties, the era I was born in. The eighties were sold to us as a modern decade, the future. But I look back and the eighties seems closer to the sixties from where we're sitting now than anything like the future.
The seventies seems really bonkers. Everyone on TV is way too skinny. Everyone's telling the most racist, rape jokes. It just seems fucking nuts and I kind of wanna sit down in the middle of in New York and see what it’s like. Oh wait, maybe I would go to Benin in the 1300s. Maybe, we were having fun in Africa. The only place to go really is my ancestral homeland in ancient times.
If your work was a restaurant, what would they serve?
I think it would be a Golden Corral Buffet. But like the dopest Golden Corral Buffet. We talking catfish, chicken, beans.
A fucking 36 item dessert bar, something for everybody.
Wow, that's lovely. I would eat there.
Well, yeah, you would.
What piece of advice would you offer young artists coming up?
Don't do anything I did. Don't listen to me. That's my advice.
Using the human form as a canvas, the team weaves a story inspired by the island's magnificent wildlife. Each photograph brings to life the vibrant colors and intricate patterns found in the coral reefs, reptiles, birds, and other endangered species that call this island home. By highlighting their fragility, the artists hope to ignite a sense of urgency and promote a deeper connection to nature.
Hey, How are you doing today?
I'm alright. Another day. How are you doing?
I’m doing good. Are you an artist?
That's what I would consider myself. Everything I do is an extension of that word.
What's your favorite gallery to visit in New York?
I only pay attention to two or three galleries, Participant, Housing and No Gallery. Shoutouts to Casey Gleghorn at No Gallery. He was the first art dealer to really get behind me.
Tell me about your show in the UK.
It was my debut internationally and my first time ever leaving the country. We shipped all my artwork to Screw Gallery and it got returned to my house. I said “fuck it” and remade the whole thing on the spot.
The title piece of my show “Body Surrogate” is a sculpture that uses rap videos. Taking street art and putting it in a gallery is supposed to reposition people’s perception. There aren’t a lot of Black people in Leeds, so I wanted to make something for the one to two Black kids passing through.
Favorite materials to work with:
Concrete, Cotton shirts, epoxy resin and steel. Expect to start seeing a lot of shattered glass in the shows coming up. That’s something I’ve been trying to incorporate.
If your work was an album, what would it sound like?
A mix of Cities Aviv, Nine Inch Nails and Goonew.
Goonew, he sounds familiar. He had that crazy funeral right.
Yeah he had his body stood up in a full Amiri fit at his wake. The studio that I shared with my best friend in DC was right behind the club they did that at.
Your work as a sneaker:
The Comme des Garçons Foamposites collaboration. Anyone that knows anything about the DMV knows that Foamposites was hitting here before they were hitting anywhere else. Intersecting that with the most avant garde fashion house possible is the epitome of who I am.
What are three words to describe your work?
Passionate, Raw, Calculated
Why do you make art?
Therapy. Art to me is about working through things. I’m just trying to find my way home.
What are you making next?
There's this practice I call de-processing where it's creating less and less process intensive work as I go on. As a conceptual artist, your mind is the studio most of the time. I don't sketch anything.
I’m doing a passion project that has to do with my family and our relationship. I’m using my work to connect more deeply with them, that’s something I’ve been lacking in.
