Loren Erdrich

The Stirring, 2021. Water, organic and synthetic dye, raw pigment and watercolor crayon on muslin. 52 x 56 inches.

BIO

Loren Erdrich has been awarded residencies at the Jentel Foundation, Burren College of Art, Santa Fe Art Institute, thrice at Art Farm Nebraska, Sculpture Space and the Vermont Studio Center. Notable accomplishments include publication in ARTMAZE Mag and exhibitions with Shrine, Harper’s, and Field Projects in New York, Wasserman Projects in Detroit and Guts Gallery in the UK. Erdrich frequently collaborates with the poet Sierra Nelson, coauthoring the award winning I Take Back the Sponge Cake (published by Rose Metal Press) and Isolation (limited edition, 2020). She holds a MFA from the Burren College of Art at the National University of Ireland, a BFA from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, and a BA from the University of Pennsylvania. Erdrich lives and works in New York, NY.

ARTIST STATEMENT

I find there is a reciprocal relationship between my medium and my content. Water erodes the rigidity of pigment and dye, conjuring a world that celebrates vulnerability. Porous boundaries are at odds with societies dependent on order, yet I dissolve the separation between outside/inside, me/you, this world/other-worldly. Bodies merge with their environments through immersion, reflection, camouflage, and decay. At times flesh itself becomes a landscape in all its fragility, mutability and resilience. I lean towards moments which dissolve the separation between outside and inside, me and you, this world and the other-worldly. Softness is no longer shamed.

Interview with Loren Erdrich

Skin, 2021. Water, organic and synthetic dye, watercolor crayon and colored pencil on muslin. 34 x 30 inches.

Can you tell us a bit about your background and how you became interested in becoming an artist? Who or what were some of your most important early influences?

I grew up right outside of Washington DC, where the public museums are free. I remember going to museums like the Hirschhorn with my mother’s cousin when I was quite young to talk about art. Later I did a specialized program within my public high school that allowed me to focus on art and literature. In my art classes my teachers let me do my own thing, so by the time I graduated high school I’d already had my first experience with a self-motivated studio practice. But it wasn’t until I had graduated undergrad and was truly faced with the rest of life ahead of me that I was like, oh right, this is what I need to do.

Where are you currently based and what initially attracted you to working in this place? Are there any aspects of this specific location or community that have inspired aspects of your work?

I have lived in NYC since 2009. Before NYC I moved around a lot – every few years I would move to a new city or a new country. Right before coming here I spent a year working at the Vermont Studio Center art residency. It was my first time back on the east coast after many, many years. At VSC I met so many artists from NYC and when it came time to leave Vermont, NYC seemed the natural next move. I’ve always kind of fought against my city dwelling life. My art practice is heavily influenced by time spent immersed in nature – either through my travels or through residencies. But NYC gives me so many other things such as access to amazing artists, galleries and museums. I’ve noticed that when I spend longer periods of time in the city (such as during the pandemic) my work relies more on the figure. During these periods the focus is primarily figural and there is a focus on an internal emotional landscape. When I am fortunate to spend time away from the city, the work becomes more about the figure’s relationship to the broader environment. Sometimes the figure disappears completely and I am just left with its remnants.

Can you describe your studio space? What are some of the most crucial aspects of a studio that make it functional? Do any of these specific aspects directly affect your work?

When I got my current studio about 4 years ago it felt huge but over the years my work has grown in size and now I am bursting out of it. I work wet on wet so I begin all my paintings on the floor. Later, once they have mostly or completely dried,they move to the wall for additional work.My studio has two windows which face north-west and let in indirect light.Too much direct sunlight can be an issue for my paintings since my materials are somewhat light sensitive,so the best windows for me are north or south facing.

When choosing this studio it was also important to me that I had privacy. For whatever reason a lot of studio buildings have walls with a gap up top but my studio has walls that go completely up to the ceiling which I love. About a third of my studio is currently dedicated to storage of artwork and materials. I try to keep any clutter in the storage area, since clutter in my painting area makes things feel claustrophobic. I need space to breathe while painting and the artwork needs space to breathe when I view it.

Saving Face, 2021. Water, organic and synthetic dye, raw pigment, watercolor crayon and colored pencil on muslin. 56 x 52 inches.

What is a typical day like? If you don't have a typical day, what is an ideal day?

I usually get to the studio around 10a and leave between 6p and 7p. Once I’m in the studio I basically work straight through until it’s time to go.Sometimes I’ll walk in put down my bag and start painting while my coat is still on. Other times I have to clean up the mess I left the night before so I can see things from a fresh perspective.

What gets you in a creative mindset?

I read a lot of fiction and poetry and this influences my work a lot. I love the way great writing evokes images yet leaves me space to fill in the visual information. I find this act much more inspiring than the real world I see before me.

What criteria do you follow for selecting materials? How long have you worked with this particular media or method?

I like working with materials I can’t fully control. I began painting with raw pigments and dyes in 2016 after a friend brought me back some from Morocco. They were so different than the watercolor and ink I was used to. The new materials forced me into a period of exploration.Often the work I am most excited about happens before I am 100% proficient in a medium, before I know all its tricks and can bend it to my will.I find those learning periods, which are so full of experimentation and trial and error, so fruitful because they lead to the unexpected. And the unexpected often results in moments of magic.

Can you walk us through your overall process? How long has this approach been a part of your practice?

I paint on raw, ungessoed canvas and muslin. Initially everything is wet–the canvas or muslin is doused with water so that when I apply my paints they spread and bleed. The dyes and pigments soak into the fabric and the result is very matte. As the painting dries I rework the surface. Sometimes I make a paste out of the raw pigment to paint with. This paste doesn’t soak into the fabric and instead it sits on top of it. I also draw
with colored pencil or watercolor crayon and occasionally add acrylic paint. These build ups of the surface don’t result in texture exactly,but they do create depth since the materials sit on different planes. Lastly,I lightly spray the painting with an acrylic UV medium to help everything adhere to the fabric and offer protection against sunlight.

Can you talk about some of the ongoing interests, imagery, and concepts that have informed your process and body of work over time? How do you anticipate your work progressing in the future?

My older bodies of work focused solely on the figure–mostly on the individual’s internal world and their emotional or physical connections with other figures.Over time my work has evolved. I’m no longer as interested in how figures relate to each other–now I am more inspired by how the body relates to the world at large. For me, this physical relationship is a metaphor for an emotional or spiritual relationship. Nowadays figures in my paintings meld with their environment through camouflage, decay, reflection, or immersion. The boundaries of these bodies are porous-I usually can’t tell where the figure ends and its environment begins. And sometimes the figure disappears completely, totally subsumed by the world around it and all we are left with is the knowledge it once existed. I can’t predict how the work will progress in the future but I know it will continue to change as my relationship to the world changes.

Do you pursue any collaborations, projects, or careers in addition to your studio practice? If so, can you tell us more about those projects, and are there connections between your studio practice and these endeavors?

I recently collaborated with the fashion designer Marc Jacobs on their Resort 2021 line. They translated 3 of my paintings into prints which were used on dresses, bags and wallets. I also have an ongoing collaborative relationship with the Seattle based poet Sierra Nelson. We met at the Vermont Studio Center is 2008. In 2012 we published our first book, a hybrid of drawings and poems loosely structured as a choose-your-own- adventure story (I Take Back The Sponge Cake, Rose Metal Press). We also performed a poetic and visual interpretation of the I-Ching in Seattle in 2014. Most recently we created a limited-edition artist book of drawings and text fragments born from the 2020 lockdown due to the pandemic (Isolation, self-published). I find my work with Sierra to be incredibly inspiring and her words and imagery often make their way into my
paintings.

Closer to Everything (Far Out), 2021. Water, organic and synthetic dye, raw pigment, watercolor crayon and colored pencil on muslin. 36 x 38 inches.

As a result of the pandemic, many artists have experienced limited access to their studios or loss of exhibitions, income, or other opportunities. Has your way of working (or not working) shifted significantly during this time? Are there unexpected insights or particular challenges you’ve experienced?

I, like so many others, had shows shut down or postponed but I have also found that in these strange times more people than ever seem to acknowledge the importance of artists and art. As a result, my career has actually expanded. Perhaps oddly enough, I found the initial period of lockdown in early 2020 very fruitful creatively. During that time, when things were so scary and so full of the unknown, I drew incessantly. I drew without thinking of the final product, or how these drawings would fit into the rest of my work–and the results were raw, honest, and surprisingly beautiful. I was surprised to find they resonated with as many people as they did. In the two years since then, as I have adjusted to this new normal, it has been hard to conjure that same sense of creative freedom but I do try to invoke it. I ask myself what I want to paint today and then let myself do it.

Can you share some of your recent influences? Are there specific works—from visual art, literature, film, or music—that are important to you?

In general, I love the writing of Anne Carson(“Dirt and Desire: Essay on the Phenomenology of Female Pollution in Antiquity”, in Men in the Off Hours), Fanny Choi (Soft Science), Mary Oliver (Devotions), and Ocean Vuong (On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous), just to name a few. I’m always very inspired by magic-realism fiction and lately have been reading novels based on Greek and Roman mythology.

Who are some contemporary artists you’re excited about? What are the best exhibitions you’ve seen in recent memory and why do they stand out?

Maja Ruznic is an artist I lookup to and consider a friend. Her show at Karma is wonderful. Her mark making and the willingness to paint both the figure and more abstract forms is something I really love. A few other artists who’s work I am digging right now are Mary Herbert, Lera Dubitskaya, Michael McGrath, Lisa Sanditz, Katherine Bradford, Haley Barkerand Grur Akrap. I just saw a show of puppets at Cavin Morris I really enjoyed–it was a good reminder you can do so much with very simple materials. I also saw The Medieval Body at Luhring Augustine which I really enjoyed. Medieval bodies are so weird - they remind me that I can portray the world the way I see it, even if it is a very personal interpretation. In a similar fashion, back in2018 there was this show at the Met which I also found incredibly inspiring called Like Life: Sculpture, Color,
and the Body (1300–Now). Even just looking at the catalogue is great.

In Nature, 2020. Water, organic and synthetic dye, raw pigment, watercolor crayon and colored pencil on muslin. 48 x 40 inches.

Do you have any tips or advice that someone has shared with you that you have found particularly helpful?

I have periods where painting doesn’t come easy. Sometimes I’m in the studio just staring into space. Or cleaning. Or organizing. Or applying to things. Those periods can feel frustrating. But a wise person once told me that the invisible work is work too. It’s all part of it.Even if those periods seem to me not to be super productive, they are because they bring me to the next painting.It’s a reminder to me to be gentle with
myself.

What are you working on in the studio right now? What’s coming up next for you?

Right now I’m trying to scale up. I’m working on the largest format paintings I’ve ever done.Working bigger requires a whole new set of tools and materials. It’s a good push. New things are exciting to me and usually bring a sense of levity into my work, even when they’re scary. I have some big shows coming up in the fall so right now I’m just keeping my head down, trying to stay in the moment and just paint.

To find out more about Loren Erdrich, check her out on Instagram or on his website.

Campfire For Ghosts, 2021. Water, organic and synthetic dye, raw pigment, watercolor cray and colored pencil on canvas. 56 x 52 inches.