Tiffany Lin

Through drawing, writing, performance, and social practice, her work investigates the nebulous distinction between want, need, and desire in context of capitalist spectacle and corporeal intimacy. She maintains an intimate sketchbook process that serves as a sociological platform, documenting encounters that situate the artist as observer, participant, and researcher. By manipulating vernacular language and signifiers of chance, she reveals how manifestations of want are informed by the state-formation, free markets, and imperialist legacies.

She holds a MFA from the Maryland Institute College of Art in Illustration Practice and a BA in Gender & Women's Studies and Psychology from the University of California, Berkeley.

Tiffany currently lives and works in Las Vegas where she joins the Department of Art at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas as a Visiting Assistant Professor of Design and Illustration.

Interview with Tiffany Lin

Questions by Andreana Donahue

Can you tell us a bit about your background and where you grew up? In what ways have your early visual experiences and personal history led to art-making?
I grew up in the suburbs of Santa Clara County (more widely known as Silicon Valley) in Northern California. Though the economy is primarily tech driven, I spent my formative years finding ways to exist outside of that sphere, mostly through drawing and music. It took me a while to “arrive” as an artist – I didn’t take it seriously until I left the Bay Area for New York City.

Where are you currently based and what initially attracted you to working in this community? Are there any aspects of this place that have surfaced in your work?
I’m currently based in Las Vegas, Nevada. I can’t say moving here was entirely intentional; I followed a job here but I don’t regret a thing! Funnily enough, the visual language of casinos, gaming, and entertainment was more prominent in my work while I was living in Baltimore, MD. At the time, I was focused on my parents’ American origin story and how they got their start in Reno after immigrating from Taiwan in the 70s – a strange, prodigal journey into their lives before I was born and what wins/losses I inherited through games of chance and fortune. The more mundane intimacies of Las Vegas can be found in my work – no neon displays or decorative flourishes (yet); I’m more interested in people’s daily grinds, their subliminal libertarian leanings, the way money talks, and what makes residents so devoted to this city.

Can you tell us about your studio and what a typical day is like for you? Do you share space or ideas with other artists while working, or is it a more solitary routine?
My studio is in my apartment. Things are much more affordable than the Bay by a landslide, so I was able to get a 2 bedroom to myself. Before COVID-19, I was worried about not having physical separation from my creative space, but now it’s really a blessing. I work mainly in my office or living room which I have left mostly empty for larger projects. I wanted to turn it into an exhibition “living room” space, partly inspired by Oakland’s Nook Gallery’s pure nerve and vision to turn domestic space into a place for art and experimentation. Despite primarily working on my paper, my studio rarely stays orderly or clean. My teaching schedule is a bit chaotic, but I try to keep my days fairly regimented; my friends say this is all “very Capricorn.” Each day begins by brewing one cup of coffee (consumed black with no accoutrements) and listening to the morning’s news on the radio. I prepare some variation of eggs for breakfast and ease into the morning before I begin work. My creative practice ranges – these days it’s all over the place, a bit of reading, writing, drawing, video, and digital work.

What criteria do you follow for selecting materials? Do you prefer to maintain a narrow focus or work across diverse media? How do you navigate the limitations and possibilities that result from this path?
I admit to not being as adventurous with media – but I want to change! I think this comes from my illustration background and fixation on intimate, easily transportable work. Sketchbooks are my ideal work space. Some of my more demanding ideas get me thinking more about scale and the work’s relationship to the viewer. It’s something I still get a bit anxious about since I’ve been itinerant for the past decade and feel too sad when a larger object becomes too precious to break down and give away… so these days I try to think more about modular construction and ephemeral experiences.

Can you walk us through your overall process? How would you describe your approach to manipulating materials? What about decision-making and editing?
Everything is an experiment; I fail a lot! A lot of my process these days relates to teaching, innovating ways to make class more interactive while decreasing screen time and facilitating a sense of community among students. While I’m testing out activities, I’m also experimenting with new materials and techniques, especially from affordable, non-specialty supplies. For an upcoming project, we’re building maquettes so there’ll be Super Sculpey and wire in here for a while. However, as a general approach, my sketchbook is my creative well. I’ll revisit a sketch, crappy poem, weird side comment messily scrawled during a meeting and use that as a jumping off point to draw or research a specific topic.

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?
Despite mine (and everyone else’s) complicated feelings about America, it’s home. I love this erratic place, so I think the Americentricity of my work won’t go away any time soon. And now I’m in Las Vegas! The most bewildering American city of them all. I’ve departed from more obvious signifiers of Americana into landscapes informed by data or historical imagery. (ie. There is an entire folder on my computer of nuclear craters from the Nevada Test Site.) Conceptually, I’m still exploring the complexities of American identity through the lens of bureaucracy, personal identification, and political organizing. 24 VIEWS, the drawing series based on US Census data on race/ethnicity, has consumed my practice for the greater part of the year. From a theoretical lens, I want to continue examining the notion of “post-whiteness,” where in the not-so-far future, whiteness is so decentered that no longer constitutes the norm. Will our equitable vision of utopia be fulfilled or will capitalism simply reconfigure itself into another distinction? If the projections hold true – that by 2042 we will be a “majority-minority” country, what does that mean for POC have perceived proximity to whiteness? And when will people realize that “colorblindness” is not a thing?! Lots of questions that may extend past my lifetime.

Through 24 VIEWS, I also spent a lot of time thinking about how to make art more accessible and educational to collapse the distinction between high and low. It’s unclear if the social practice element of 24 VIEWS will be fulfilled under the current circumstances, but my initial goal was to present the work to local high schoolers and organize a new, community-initiated Census questionnaire to address questions they thought most relevant to their neighborhoods. I’m occasionally plagued by the notion that my work is considered too populist or potentially didactic for the contemporary art world… and on the flipside, too dour and incendiary for the illustration industry… so that’s something I’m still trying to navigate as an artist-illustrator. On a more positive note, I still make comics to destress! I’ve been making comics about the remote teaching experience and other life happenings.

Do you pursue any collaborations, projects, or careers in addition to your studio practice? If so, are there connections between the two?
My fondest collaborative project was CODES in which I gathered two super talented people to work on a performance work on flag handling rituals in the US. JJ Bozeman and I conducted interviews with current and former service members and Gu Wei composed the improvisational score to the piece based on a randomization of notes from the Star-Spangled Banner. I met JJ (who specializes in film and stage acting), while working at a restaurant in the East Village. We’d chat about our wildest creative delusions while polishing glasses behind the bar. I met Gu (music composer) through a collaborative class at MICA that paired art students with another student from Peabody Conservatory. Working collaboratively is incredible when the chemistry’s right! I have a few leads in Vegas so stay tuned! If I had to parse through it all, I guess my “additional” career would be my Visiting Assistant Professorship at UNLV and freelance illustration work. They are all interconnected and all equally drive me nuts, but in the best way possible. It keeps life exciting!

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 am lucky that my teaching position at UNLV was not compromised due to the pandemic, but it was (and is) still a time of great uncertainty. Exhibition opportunities were postponed but I am happy they are still scheduled for the future. I think everyone has been incredibly supportive and resilient during this time to make sure artists find the resources they still need. I confess that I am not a fan of the virtual experience though I know we need to make do with the circumstances. My eyes hurt. I’d like to explore outdoor experiences or window/partitioned displays. There is no replacing human presence. I deeply miss the ambient presence of strangers, the thrum of tangential bodies. I’ve taken to wandering the casinos during my more extreme bouts of loneliness – so much business as usual, I almost believe the fantasy!

In a time that seems to be marked by uncertainty, collective anxiety, and increasing social unrest, why do you think the perspectives and contributions of artists remain meaningful? Do you feel a natural relationship exists between your work (or the role artists play more broadly) and confronting established systems - of power, cultural institutions, or otherwise?
We keep hope alive! We innovate and dream radically in ways that shock and surprise. We are in it for the long game. We are listening. To that question, yes yes and yes – that’s all I can hope for. If I can influence or inspire even just one person to rethink oppressive systems, my work has done its job – and I mean this not to moralize and proselytize, but rather tap into someone’s inner experience and move them to action so we can destabilize authoritative structures of knowledge.

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

The Good Place – TV (definitely cried at the series finale, whoa)

Persona / Ingmar Bergman – Film

Group Material – Art

Border Cantos – Richard Misrach & Guillermo Galindo – Art

La Estancia by Lorenzo Mattotti – Art

Learning from Las Vegas – Denise Scott Brown, Robert Venturi, Steve Izenour – Art/Architecture

Geek Love by Katherine Dunn – Literature

Night Sky with Exit Wounds by Ocean Vuong - Poetry

Specific works that have shaped my life long term –

A Subtley, or the Marvelous Sugar Baby” by Kara Walker

The Probable Trust Registry by Adrian Piper

Slouching Toward Bethlehem by Joan Didion

Untitled (Perfect Lovers) by Felix Gonzalez-Torres

Pedagogy of the Oppressed by Paulo Freire

Bring me your saddest Arizona by Ryan Harty
Ma by Celia Rowlson-Hall

For the Dogs Who Barked at Me on the Sidewalks in Conneticut by Hanif Abdurraqib

Who are some contemporary artists you’re excited about? What are the best exhibitions you’ve seen in recent memory?
Ah! This is hard. I guess in this moment I am excited about Meriem Bennani and Christine Sun Kim. The best exhibition that sticks out in my mind was Pacha, Llaqta, Wasichay: Indigenous Space, Modern Architecture, New Art at the Whitney in 2018.

What are you working on in the studio right now? What’s coming up next for you?
Hammering out details for 24 VIEWS, more comics, and working on larger scale graphite pieces. CODES will make a comeback here in Vegas in some shape or form. More teaching. A sculptural piece with wishbones. And hopefully sleep!!