From a conversation on March 12, 2020
You work with multiple overlapping layers of pigmented tissue paper and organic beeswax on wood panels. How long have you been doing this, and how did you start?
I’ve been working in this particular style for 5 years. I started with crayons as a kid, but that’s going too far back! As a young hippie in the Bay Area I was taking sculpture classes with Clayton Bailey at Cal State Hayward, and I saw some classmates making sand candles. Since I was also leather-working at the time, I tried dipping my leather book cover into boiling wax to make it look “antique”. That was the first time I ever worked in wax. Then about 6 years ago, I saw an encaustic image on another artist’s business card, and thought “How the hell did she do this?” I was doing sumi-e at the time, and I couldn’t imagine anyone doing something as delicate as that in wax! I honestly didn’t know what working in encaustic would entail, and wanted to learn more. And it went from there.”
You developed a style and process unlike anything you’ve seen other artists do -- how did that begin?
The leap into this style began with my research into work by Jasper Johns. I thought his work was more “clunky” and not as delicate as I wanted to achieve, but I saw the possibilities of soaking paper in wax and that made a light go on in my head. I didn’t know exactly what, but I had taken many classes on Maui with Dick Nelson who worked with watercolor and focused on transparency and light. I had an idea that maybe a fine paper could simulate the layers that watercolorists achieve. In 2015 I started dipping my sumi-e paper into wax and cutting out overlapping shapes. Eventually I abandoned that paper as being too opaque, and kept experimenting until I tried tissue paper...and it worked for me.
How has your work evolved in the past 5 years?
It’s more content-oriented now. Everything that’s in the painting now is there for a reason, even if it appears at first to be random. I want to “say” something, without preaching, about our human condition, where we’ve been/where we are/where we’re going. I know that sounds trite, but… there you have it. Technically, it’s developed a quality that’s more solid, gritty and visceral, yet with much better blending of colors. My method has been stripped down. Now it’s almost minimalist. I used to use paint brushes and pencils and blow torches. Now I work solely with a dry iron to create line, blend soft edges and intensify color in different areas of the work. I do more tearing of the paper rather than precision cutting. My work now feels more sculptural and textural than ever before.
You’ve said previously you prefer to work with only tissue paper colors in cyan, magenta, lemon yellow, black (for occasional undercoating) and white. Why is this?
I learned tri-hue color theory with Dick Nelson, and I like that with the CMYK palette I can get any saturation of color I want. The more I blend, I can obtain greater variety and subtlety of colors. And, this is most important, my colors seem non-conformist -- they are colors you don’t normally get from a tube. By relying on the CMYK papers, hues always blend in a way that’s relative to each other. This creates a self-consistency and a cohesive palette. It helps to create the vanishing boundaries between adjacent colors.
What has been the biggest challenge to creating the effects you want to achieve?
The hardest thing was learning to create soft edges and vanishing boundaries. From Dick Nelson I got the idea that you can put two colors adjacent to each other and then overlay with a third color to create a color triad that’s related. Ironing and pressing the layers together alternating with more and less pressure creates the different saturation levels. I also stopped cutting the edges and learned to tear the paper to further soften the edges. So this gave me maximum control of the hard and soft edges and vastly helped my compositional design. I also learned to shape the paper into various forms by crumpling and creasing, as “Le Crimp” (the French origami collective) has demonstrated. This allows me to create more organic shapes and lines, as opposed to the straight edge of the paper itself.
How do you know when a work is completed?
I think it’s like any artist, you just keep working on it because the piece itself will keep talking to you. In a sense, it’s never finished, but you call it “done” when you can live with it, to paraphrase one of my favorite artists Tony Schneider.
How long does it take to create one of your pieces?
It can take a while, depending on how the ideas are flowing. It can take a month or two, including time spent with a piece turned to the wall so that I can revisit it with new eyes. Sometimes I hate a work in progress, turn it to the wall and completely forget all about it. Other times, an inspiration hits and I work non-stop on that piece until it’s finished. So it can take anywhere from a week to infinity, depending on the piece.
What difficulties, if any, have you faced in the art community as a result of your choice of media?
The art community always wants “masterpieces”, a highly overused word, and money is a constant focus in that world. The art world is more concerned with cost than worth. Specifically, my media is not considered “pure” because I don’t do it the way they want it: I use paper as my pigment, and there is a prejudice against that in the gallery world. It’s almost not “justified” or a viable medium that “sells”, which goes back to my previous statement. There is incredible bias against both encaustic and paper work, and I do both. The “gold standard” is still oil painting, although ironically encaustic works historically last longer than oil.
Your encaustic medium is currently organic beeswax. Why did you move away from using resin?
At first it was a health and safety issue, but then I realized that the resin wasn’t necessary when I used the paper in my work, because the multiple layers provided a stronger structure. So I gradually cut down on the amount I used, until it was just the pure beeswax. As for the long-term I’m not sure how the longevity of pure wax will play out, but I’m satisfied with how I do it currently.
What keeps you coming back to this technique?
Because it has unlimited possibilities. I haven’t run out of ideas for what to do with it. There are always new ideas, and I see no reason to abandon it now.
How do you begin a new piece of art? What parameters do you set as you begin working?
I sense “movement,” that is I pick an interesting visual or imaginative “spot” in space from which to begin its journey. From there it’s a series of movements of that spot and from that spot. It’s almost like a quantum electron dance. It’s a basic movement of the universe. You get a feel for it as unformed, and create the dance as the composition evolves. It’s movement, but very ethereal, although there is an underlying pattern. In composing, I tend to work with “threes” in terms of opposition of line, in that there is usually a point in opposition to a “front” made by a line connecting two other points. From there the piece develops organically. Threes and fives create a dynamic balance for me, whereas twos and fours do not.
Who are your favorite artists in any media or historical period?
I’m not really a list person, and there are always people to add, but I’d start with the prehistoric cave artists because of their perceptiveness and depiction of the fecundity of life around them.We’re connected to that world. Picasso, because of his consistency -- he kept working-- and also because of his understanding of the “magic” involved with creating art. Degas. Gauguin -- for his radical color work. Andy Goldsworthy -- for the “allness” of his vision. And Giacometti -- for the hell of it.
How do you hope to engage viewers?
I would hope they keep coming back to look at it over and over, that they feel there is always something new to experience in it. Art is a living entity, and if you keep coming back to a piece you come to understand it in different ways.
What is the best critique you’ve ever received?
After 16 years of periodically viewing my work, my mentor Dick Nelson finally told me my art was original and beautiful….and to keep working (laughs).
Who do you credit for helping you become the artist you are today?
Dick Nelson, because of what he taught me about color relationships and light and asking better questions. Also my wife Lisa for always pushing me to continue. If she hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have gotten to this point in my work.
What legacy would you like to leave through your art?
I would like my style to be recognized as unique to me, that when one of my works is viewed it is identifiable as my work. I don’t think I’m there yet, we’ll see….