| After having spent the autumn
of 2001 absorbing the energetic ambience of Italy,
Pamela embarks on a first-time trip to the historic
climes of Southern Spain. Characteristic of a
personal, fragmented abstraction, Pamela's paintings
stem from both the artist's visual and psychological
observations of the physical environment. Here
she talks about the unique inspiration that remains
with her following the destruction of the World
Trade Centre in September, and about her development
and career as a painter moved by the inherent
transience of physical worlds.
WHEN DID YOU FIRST START PAINTING,
AND WHAT WAS IT THAT MOVED YOU TO DO SO?
I always loved to draw and remember
discovering an approach to drawing called "blind
contour drawing" at age 6. Drawing and painting
became part of my life from that time on. My whole
family was very creative. The sound of my brother's
daily piano practicing was like my home's heartbeat,
sustaining our creative efforts. My mother wrote
poetry, my sister was a talented artist, and my
father, a brilliant scientist, also played the
oboe. I went to a wonderfully creative high school
called "Miquon Upper School" in Philadelphia.
It was there that I began to paint in oil from
the model. Simultaneously I was enrolled in a
class called "Matisse and Rilke", and then "De
Kooning". These artists became my first influences,
contributing to my first understanding of painting.
YOU HAVE DESCRIBED YOUR WORK
AS "THE LONGING FOR THE AURA OF THE REMEMBERED
PLACE.' WHICH APPEALS TO YOU MOST, THE URBAN OR
THE NATURAL LANDSCAPE? HOW IMPORTANT IS TRAVEL
IN YOUR WORK?
Currently my favorite motif is
the meshing of the two- nature as reflected in
architecture or architecture reflected in nature.
In the former example, my beginning point is light
as seen in windows of buildings. In the latter,
water rather than glass becomes the mirror. The
building, instead of being the reflecting surface,
becomes the object reflected.
Travel is very important, both
for locating motifs and for inspiring new directions.
When I went to Italy for one year as a student,
my first goal was to paint the statuary there.
While painting in the Boboli Gardens in Florence,
I discovered how much more interesting it was
to paint the reflections of things, rather than
the things themselves. This was an epiphanic moment.
A solid form will dematerialize through the effects
of light and wind. Attempting to paint this phenomenon
has become a lifelong obsession. Once I had painted
at the Boboli Gardens for several months, I made
trips to Hadrian's Villa in Rome, and to Venice.
I photographed what I saw in order to work from
these subjects back in New York.
In New York, I attempted to seek
out locations with reflecting pools. Trying to
reconfigure this view in New York was by turns
challenging, frustrating, and surprising. Though
these properties of water and space are universal,
the experiences I had in New York, or even during
return trips to Italy, were never the same. Painting
from a puddle in New York City, working from a
photograph, or just remembering, was an experience
of longing for what Louise Bourgeois calls "an
echo, a re-enacting of an emotion of a distant
past, an attraction to the "Other", which has
a mysterious beauty" (Uncontrollable Beauty, ed.
Bill Beckley, Allsworth Press).
FOLLOWING THE HORRIFIC EVENTS
OF SEPTEMBER 11 RESULTING IN THE DESTRUCTION OF
THE WORLD TRADE CENTRE WHERE YOU HAD PREVIOUSLY
WORKED DURING AN ARTIST RESIDENCY, WHAT ASPECTS
OF THIS EXPERIENCE WILL MOST STAY WITH YOU IN
THE AFTERMATH OF THIS CATASTROPHE?
The 18 months I spent there were
very extreme. The rectilinear concrete and glass
were massive and alienating. I was very uncomfortable
with both heights and elevators, and I had to
overcome a feeling of terror just to go to my
studio. The building's construction was such that
it had movement, which was perceptible even on
the 24 th floor of Tower 2. It resembled an empty
parking lot. I began by continuing my series of
night paintings begun previously. This left the
dilemma of what to do during the day. I started
by drawing fragments of the East River framed
by buildings. The windows were made of a type
of glass which is reflective and distorting. In
the next drawing I drew only windows, painting
them in vertical grids. The distortions in the
glass paralleled the distortions I'd painted in
water. Depending on the time of day and the weather,
the forms changes, and the glass itself would
oscillate. Suddenly, these two opposites- architecture
and water- became similar, and I was very excited
by the prospect of painting this motif in its
endless variations. Returning there daily in spite
of the discomfort I experienced while being there
deepened my commitment as an artist.
HOW DID THE CHARACTERISTICS OF
YOUR STUDIO THERE AFFECT THE WORK THAT YOU PRODUCED?
What is fascinating is that the
space, the "landscape" is inverted. Urban architecture
in a city like New York is an inversion or turning
sideways of what we think of as landscape. In
New York, you have a hard time finding a horizontal
horizon line- but if you look up, you'll find
a vertical one. So, to paint from this elevated
spot was an inversion, or turning sideways, of
tradition, of nature. An artist who works from
a view always gets attached in some way. My ties
were very extreme. My studio was empty, vast and
high. I magnified what I saw. By pushing the work
to an extreme, I found a statement that was very
personal and described my experience of being
there.
WHAT HAVE BEEN THE HIGHLIGHTS
OF YOUR CAREER SO FAR?
Recent group exhibitions have
included: The National Academy of Design, Montclair
Art Museum, the Tibor De Nagy Gallery, the DFN
Gallery, and Bahnhof Kultur. Solo exhibitions
include the Curcio/Spector Gallery and bOb in
New York City, The American University in Washington
DC and Seton Hall University in New Jersey.
Another venue has been through
my affiliation with poets in New York. The poetry
scene there is very connected to certain circles
of artists. There is a long tradition of this
at The Saint Marks Poetry Project, including collaborations
between Larry Rivers and Kenneth Koch, George
Schneeman and Allen Ginsberg, Phillip Guston and
Anne Waldman. My work has been featured in numerous
poetry books, including the book "Private Agenda",
containing 11 works in collaboration with Lewis
Warsh's poems .
Elio Schneeman's poetry book
"Along The Rails", features cover work by me.
WHAT DO YOU HOPE TO ACHIEVE IN
YOUR WORK IN THE NEAR FUTURE?
Now in Seville, I am continuing
a series of abstract collages based on views of
water and architecture. My sources include forms
I've never seen before- Moorish architecture,
palm trees, mosaics. I'm very excited about the
direction my work has been taking even in the
last two weeks, since I've been here.
Lisa Jane Green,
Seville, Spain
2002 |