‘Painting and its Performance’
Alexis Teplin in Conversation with Alexander Caspari
Whilst you have collaborated on many international exhibitions you now work predominantly from your London based studio. I know you are originally from California and received an MFA at Art Centre College of Design (Los Angeles) before coming to the UK for the Royal Academy Starr Fellowship in 2002. Could you talk a little about the differences (if any!) between the West Coast and UK art communities? How do you think these varied educational contexts may have fed into your practice?
My interests in craft, labour, the politics of domesticity and the proportional relationship of bodies to landscape were developed through the experience of being raised in Northern California and studying in Los Angeles. This influence extends to how I position myself as an artist, how I consider paintings’ relationship to landscape, abstraction and its cultural and political context.
Studying in Los Angeles in the late 90’s, educational institutions were incredibly linked to the art world. I went to both UCLA and Art Centre in this time period and studied under artists that were linked to CalArts historical pedological position as a place of communal learning such as Stephen Prina, Christopher Williams, Lari Pitman, Jeremy Gilberte-Rolfe and Mike Kelley. The art community in LA felt small and approachable and conceptual strategies were at the centre of all material practices.
London’s approach to community had a slightly different perspective when I moved here in 2003. Artists seemed more able to categorise themselves by medium and conceptual strategies. The commercial and institutional scene was less based around educational institutions than in LA but on the other hand there were stronger relationships between curators and artists. At the time I thought that this had to do with the accessibility of non-profit spaces, the diversity of London’s institutions and the newness of the young gallery scene. It also probably had to do with the strength of the curator programs on offer, something that didn’t exist in LA.
You had a major solo exhibition ‘Its My Pleasure to Participate’ at The Bluecoat (Liverpool) in 2019. Could you discuss how that project came about and how it developed conceptually?
The exhibition came about through a dialogue with curator Adam Smythe. Adam had been following my work for some time and was interested in producing an exhibition that focused on the relationship of performance within it. We initially discussed how a film of the performance, ‘The Lives of Women’, which at the time I was devising (based on ideas of translation and communication through research into the Iris Murdoch and the British Situationists archives), could be shot offsite at Dorich House, whilst still becoming a documentation for the live performances within the exhibition itself.
I was interested in the history of Bluecoat as the first site of performance exhibitions in the UK and its incredibly strong relationship to community. I wanted to devise an exhibition that was directly linked to the performance of the audience moving through it. The way in which I did this, was to change the architecture of the space and the trajectory with which the audience encountered that space. I removed a large temporary wall and opened the space up to the central garden. This meant that paintings could reference windows and actors and audience members could look through them while encountering the work. I put up temporary free-standing metal structures that hung with unstretched works to create the physical tactility of painting whilst initiating a painting discourse centred around labour, craft, tactility and the body.
In this exhibition I wanted to push notions of what contemporary painting could be and explore how the environment in which it was situated could influence its context. This led to layers of collaborative structures, from mural making, to glass blown still life sculptures and ceramics which referenced particular historical paintings. In addition, I incorporated various painted costume works to accompany the stretched paintings as a stand in for bodies in space.
Our recent Artist Rooms (2020) exhibition had quite a wide scope. It included several different elements of your practice and initiated dialogues between your canvas paintings and large-scale textile installations, the glass sculptures and new watercolours. I believe this exhibition was the first time the collection of watercolours we exhibited had been displayed and that 2020 was when you began this particular body of work. Could you speak a little about this? Did these new works on paper affect or change your approach to painting generally?
With the watercolours, it’s a bit of a reverse process from oil painting as the light comes from underneath the pigment (the paper) rather than being placed on top of it or within the pigment itself. I wanted to see how far I could push the medium through layering while using transparency and brightness. Also how I could shift the gravity of the composition by rotating the paper while work working. I like that there is no room for error within a watercolour, if you push it too far it has to be disregarded. The watercolours have also allowed me to return to an interest in landscape, depth of field and spatial relationships within colour combinations.
In various studio visits we have discussed ideas relating to ‘slow painting’ and the uneven processes through which a work comes into being. I wondered if you could expand on this term and why it is significant to your practice?
I would say at its fundamental core, painting is in a constant dialogue with its relationship to speed and slowness- speed of looking, speed of reaction, speed of thought and the slowness with which these happen is the tension which exists within painting. Slow painting is a construct which is at odds with itself. Even when a painting appears ‘fast’ it's conceptual strategy will probably reverse this. Personally, I would say that I am interested in the term ‘slow painting’ as a relationship to the spaces that have been left open when one returns to a particular painting again and again. So, I would say that the slowness comes from repetition of looking both on the part of the artist and the viewer, where a painting emerges gradually and has a particular presence or sensation that it carries with it. I am interested in slowness in terms of a speed of looking rather than the speed of the completed gesture and how a multitude of gestures or marks can change the speed of looking.
I am interested in the varied methods you employ to interrogate the longstanding art historical trope of painting as performance. You mentioned that the titles of many paintings are ‘echoes’ of spoken lines from the actors in your theatrical compositions such as ‘The Lives of Women’. I believe that the costumes some of the performers wear occasionally become re-used in the creation of new paintings? All these different elements - canvases, textile architectures, stage props, painted costumes and sculptures - often exist in spaces together almost like different limbs of the same body….I was engaged in the idea of the labour by which a work or body of work comes into being and wondered if you could elaborate on this? For me, whilst powerful objects in their own right, there is something interesting about the collaborative structures by which the works are produced, their overlapping and dependency on each other.
Labour, in this context, has a multiple meaning. There is the relationship to the hand that creates individual works, the conceptual labour that creates links between histories of art, women and contemporary consciousness… then there is the community of voices and bodies that execute the exhibition.
The collaborative structures are a way to position a body of work in a personal and an ideological context. They allow one to talk about the space between ideas and interpretation and the particularity or specificity of the multiple voices that exist within a single artwork. Sometimes these voices are historical and sometimes they are present in the room through the actors and sometimes they are present through their materiality.
I am interested in using art history as a material. I think that the way in which one sees their own ideology clearly is in the relationship to other positions. Art history and cultural reference points tend to allow one to examine one’s own position in the world and be challenged by its contradictions and its absurdity.
In a way, all of the works create an overall painting composition, a single work or painting in the space. I don't consider the sculptures stage props but instead a three-dimensional suggestion of a still life that the actors interact with to cement their relationship to a history of painting.
Your new sculptures with blown glass, porcelain palm fronds and terracotta fruit are engaging and multi-layered objects. Immediately they offer an alternate contemporary vision to your abstract works on canvas. They seem to playfully reference the painterly tradition of the still life from Cezanne to Morandi. I wondered if you could talk more about these works? I was especially interested in your ideas around ‘positions of decadence’ and their relationship to materiality which you have referred to previously.
Initially, in the new sculptures, I began by looking at the relationship between domestic studio objects and their appearance in still life painting of the early 20th century. I wanted to use a translation of pictorial language, starting with the physicality of the objects themselves in (Matisse and Morandi) becoming painted images and then to turn them back into glass and ceramic sculptures. The sculptures could then be manipulated by the physical gesture of the actors while still inferring history, the language of domesticity and cultural decadence.
The palm fronds and ‘fruit’ were a nod to the position of the orientalist gaze, as well as a separate reference to a personal history, California. In a way, I wanted to turn reference points into physical material objects. The language of the materials became formalised, pink porcelain palm fronds and terra cotta peaches. This enabled one to imagine the physicality and touch of the sculpture by its description.I know you have been working with painted textiles and costumes for a significant period. Could you discuss how this working method began and how it has developed over time? I was particularly interested in the history of some of the fabrics you select and work into. They have an incredible presence and seem to be charged with their history of production and the imprint of bodies that have touched them. I am also intrigued by the significance of the gaps and spaces you leave within many of these compositions. Sometimes it seems as if the frayed edges and points of unfurling are as vital as the assemblages in themselves? When I look at your work I often think of the famous Rosalind Krauss essay about the trope of the modernist painted grid… I believe she describes it as a holey ‘net’ trawling through the twentieth century picking up different histories and leaving others behind.
I was interested in how a textile could signify a particular body. The metis linens which I use are vintage or antique fabrics. They are sometimes handwoven, so there is evidence of the materiality of making within the fabric. They reference canvas being half linen and half cotton but in this case they also often come from beds and I was interested in using the sense that they are imprinted with bodies. It is not dissimilar with the Spitalfields silks or embroidered Italian fabrics I use. They are remnants of other lives, and a signifier of a crumbling decadence within the works. They seem to fall apart as the viewer clings to them. The holes within the compositions start as a compositional strategy, a way to create an open form within the painting. They also play with the idea of transparency and seeing through or behind the work. Again, they relate to a speed of looking where the stitching can become mark making and suggest the impression of the hand forming the work. I really like that the idea that they relate to the holey net of modernism or even the fragmentation of material hierarchies and cultural signifiers, the fading and failing of cultural decadence.
Could you speak to the importance of colour selection? Where does it sit for you on the spectrum between the symbolic and intuitive? What is it about the particular tones and combinations of colours that is important to you? I imagine that every colour has the potential to speak to a particular history of painting, to gesture towards a different mood or movement.
Colour selection is most closely related to what the colour visually does, yellow hovering, purple opposing it to create weight and how that can be used specifically to create a sensation related to speed and movement or depth of field. I look at a lot at late 19th and early 20th century painting so this does influence the work to a certain degree, vermillion is used as Whistler’s red and cobalt for Matisse, but it is really about what certain pigments do and how the play off each other as much as what they signify.
You recently created a largescale mural ‘Nasturtiums or Hollyhocks’ for The Royal Academy Summer Exhibition. Could you discuss this work and your murals generally? I know you have previously installed murals in other institutional contexts such as The Bluecoat. These works suggest an exciting intersection between painting, architecture and performance which are all central to your practice.
For ‘Nasturtiums or Hollyhocks’ I was interested in creating a contradiction with the proposition that the removal of the artist's hand (in the work of Frank Stella in particular) is a pure modernist gesture. This was done in a playful way, through a combination of stripes, geometry and depictions of a decorative motif to create an intersection between architectural intervention and gestural mark making.
The murals are a way to clearly define the relationship between painting and installation. The scale creates an immersive landscape for the audience to become participants within, while the artist's hand becomes visible within the paint's surface with colours mixed and prepared with pigment and binder consistent with smaller scale works.
Alexis Teplin
Alexis Teplin lives and works in London. Teplin’s work begins within the history of two-dimensional painting and expands to include performance, video and sculpture. Her work explores the nature of painting through its relationship to historical quotation, labour, cultural politics and positions of decadence. She received her M.F.A. from Art Centre College of Design, Los Angeles in 2001 and was the Starr Fellow at the Royal Academy Schools in 2002.
Recent solo exhibitions include; ‘It’s My Pleasure to Participate,’ Bluecoat, Liverpool (2019), Painted Costumes, New Art Centre, Roche Court, East Winterslow (2019), ‘Keats Favorite,’ Aqubar, London (2018), ‘Drag, Push HOOT,’ Mary Mary, Glasgow (2016), HE and HO for O,’ Rise Projects, Silvie Fleming Collection, London (2016), ‘La Grotto Rosa,’ Cardrde, Bologna (2014), ‘San Marino Calling,’ Museo D’Arte Modena e Contemporanea, San Marino (2014), ‘He, Ho, HA, hmmm.,’ Mary Mary, Glasgow (2013) and ‘sss T !!,’ Hayward Project Space, London (2013). Recent Group Exhibitions include; ‘Nasturtiums and Hollyhocks’ mural for the Summer Exhibition The Royal Academy, London, 2021; Drawing Biennale, Drawing Room London (2021); Artist Rooms, Encounter Contemporary, London (2020), ‘Bauhaus 100,’ Camberwell School of the Arts (2019), ‘The Most Real Thing, contemporary textiles and sculpture,’ New Art Centre, Roche Court, East Winterslow (2018), ‘Arch (The Politics of Fragmentation),’ Whitechapel Open, Whitechapel Gallery, London (2018), ‘Bedswerver,’ Flat Two, London (2018), ‘Stretch Release,’ Durst Brit and Mayhew, The Hague (2017), ‘Arch (The Politics of Fragmentation),’ Sydney Biennale, Sydney (2016), ‘20th Anniversary Exhibition,’ Migros Museum für Gegenwartskunst, Zurich (2016). Teplin’s work has been featured in notable publications such as Frieze Magazine, Artforum and The New York Times. Teplin currently teaches painting at RCA London and Fine Art at Kingston University. Her work can be found in important institutional and private collections internationally.