Artist: Andrew MacDonald of Peterborough and Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Interview 112
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Interviews published by Gareth Bate & Dawne Rudman.
Biography
Born in Peterborough Ontario, Andrew MacDonald graduated from the Ontario College of Art and Design Sculpture Installation program, and in 2008 received a Masters of Fine Art from the University of Western Ontario. MacDonald has had several solo exhibitions in Toronto and in New York City, USA. He has also been successful in receiving Canada and Ontario Arts Council grants. Reconfiguring and manipulating materials and objects at an early age, he enjoyed taking apart and rebuilding bikes, wooden products like furniture, as well as audio equipment and clothing. This process of dissection and reassembly of everyday materials and objects remains a part of his practice as an artist. Currently living and working in Peterborough Ontario, Canada, Andrew produces figurative, abstract sculptures and installations employing knitted textiles. He is also a painter and photographer. Andrew's website.
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Artist: Andrew MacDonald. |
Tell us about your work?
The main focus of my studio has been building and producing sculptures with an emphasis on knitted textiles. I think of my work as installation too, but that usually takes place in the context of an exhibition or gallery. Conceptually, the work looks at and comments on reductive modernist sculpture and figurative sculpture. And as a point of departure I try to contaminate this purely conceptual approach with titles and narratives surrounding failure and feelings of lack. Textiles, as I use them reference the body and it's frailties, physical and mental. The knitted "skins" that operate as the covering of my work, are like veils that are stretched over a variety of forms. Still, I like to let the materials tell a story on a formalist level too. I guess I also like to be a little cryptic and ambiguous, as far as meaning is concerned, and how it is interpreted. This ambiguity can be either through the titles I come up with or how the work looks visually. The work, as I've been told, essentially looks like ambiguous hybrid objects, and you can make up your own mind what they are hybrids of. I like the idea of ambiguity and hybridity, I guess because I see myself that way, ambiguous in a lot of ways. Understanding is hard at the best of times, so I'd rather play with that than be specific. I'm looking at minimalism again, as well as the light and space artists, so my work is changing to accommodate my ongoing interest in those areas of conceptual and formalist thinking.
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Slouch Beast, Knitted synthetic yarn, pillow stuffing, various plastic forms, nails, Variable dimensions, 2008. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
From where do you get your inspiration?
Inspiration is a tricky thing, at least for me. I have my moments, but I don't think I'm particularly inspired, rather the motivation of my work wants to share a sense of the world as I see it. I like to think of my work as a kind of mirror of the self. In a way it reflects seriousness, yet at the same time a kind of humour and how you have to laugh at failure and not take that seriousness too seriously. I want to show that there's always a flip side to each story, especially if that story contains elements of pathos and pain. I'm motivated to discuss the humorous aspects of confusion and insecurity in life, like Woody Allen films. I like stand-up comics and how the pratfall functions in comedy in the way the physical body becomes the vehicle for humour through it's own pathetic attempt to just function. Kramer and George Costanza from Seinfeld are good examples of physical humour and pathetic comic characters that are laughable and ask for empathy, because we've all been in similar situations as they. There's an element of the emotional side of failure and the ability for empathy through humour like a classic tragic comedy. I wouldn't say that I'm the comic actor, but the work is. The work animates these ideas if you care to see it. Lets say I'm inspired by comedy and comics like Seinfeld and Louis C.K more than anything else. I try to be optimistic, because life can be pretty ridiculous. If you can't laugh at that ridiculousness then I think you're doomed to be unhappy. Don't get me wrong though, I think there needs to be serious consideration towards misunderstanding and pathos in our own lives. But my overall message is don't sweat the details and try to have balance.
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It's not the end of the world, it just seems that way, machine knitted natural and synthetic yarn, pillow stuffing, various plastic forms installation dimensions, 15 feet wide, 8 feet deep. 2009. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
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It's not the end of the world, it just seems that way (detail), machine knitted natural and synthetic yarn, pillow stuffing, various plastic forms installation dimensions, 15 feet wide, 8 feet deep, 2009. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
You work in knitted sculptural pieces, tell us how you decided on fibre art and this medium in particular?
It was really by fault and/or chance that I decided to work with textiles. I was at the end of my first year, just going into the second year of my MFA in 2007 and I found this crazy machine knitted sweater in a Value Village. It was mostly red and black, and had this patterned graphic on the front that reminded me of Russian Suprematist painting. I just had to have it and I took it back to the studio. This sweater just sat there baiting me for weeks, I didn't know what to do with it. I had also been buying a lot of plastic containers from dollar, and big box stores at the time. I had a large plastic garbage can just waiting for me to do something with it at the time as well. Then I just decided to put this sweater over the upside down garbage can, and voilà, it became this strange headless torso. Producing something at that point with reference to the figure was shock to me that day in the studio, probably because it was unexpected and came so suddenly after weeks of indeterminable thinking. So I just decided to run with it and kept buying sweaters and other found knit textiles. Eventually I bought a knitting machine so I could produce my own textiles gaining more control over the materials, and I haven't looked back ever since.
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Heads, machine knitted natural and synthetic yarn, pillow stuffing, various plastic forms, 10 feet wide, 7 feet high, 2010. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
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Heads (Detail), machine knitted natural and synthetic yarn, pillow stuffing, various plastic forms, 10 feet wide, 7 feet high, 2010. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
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Lost space dog, machine knitted natural and synthetic yarn, various plastic forms, 28 x 18 inches, 2011. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
What specific historic artists have influenced your work?
When I think of the installation aspect of my work, I think about Baroque artists. Bernini specifically comes to mind. I'm drawn to the environmental aspect of the work, and how it envelops the viewer physically. Not to mention how narratives are dramatically played out utilizing architecture as well as sculpture and painting. Rodin is also an historic influence, mostly for how he broke with tradition and fragmented the figure to convey a sense of a body in parts, rather than a complete holistic being which is unrealistic. It's how I feel at least, a grouping of parts that don't always get along most of the time rather than a "whole person". I have to mention Brancusi too, the father of modernist reductive sculpture.
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Black and white, machine knitted natural and synthetic yarn, pillow stuffing, various plastic forms, 22 feet wide, 9 1/2 feet high, 2008. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
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Black and white (Detail), machine knitted natural and synthetic yarn, pillow stuffing, various plastic forms, 22 feet wide, 9 1/2 feet high, 2008. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
What specific contemporary artists have influenced your work?
When I started producing sculptures involving textiles and everyday objects, I was looking at Canadian artist Brian Jungen and American Tim Hawkinson. I've always been interested in how they both employed everyday objects and materials into their work, putting a spin on raw materials as well as what these artist did with those materials. For instance, Brian Jungen's Prototypes for a new Understanding, using Nike Air Jordan shoes to build what appeared to be Native Canadian tribal masks. Hawkinson's Penitent, appears to be a human skeleton, but is actually made from rawhide dog bones. The rawhide dog bones take the place of bones that normally make up the human skeleton figure. It's that kind of spin on materials and hybrid art objects that is appealing to me. Taking something with a meaning already implied and turning it into something else.
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Pink and yellow, wood, machine knitted synthetic yarn, Left Work: 22 Inches high, 18 wide, 18 deep. Right Work: 18 inches high, 14 wide 13 deep. 2013. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
How has your training influenced you?
I have two degrees in fine art, one from the Ontario College of Art and Design, and a Masters from the University of Western Ontario. I think the biggest influence that took place during my training was working with my fellow students. Staying up late, talking and making work in communal studio settings I found is the best way to exercise your doubts and fears about what you are doing. I've had a few great teachers too over the years that have changed my thinking about what art can be and how to go about making work.
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Bent out of shape, the failed search for meaning, Wood, machine knitted synthetic yarn, paint, Left work: 80 inches high, 22 wide x 30 deep. Right work: 86 inches high, 41 wide x deep, 2013. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
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Bent out of shape, the failed search for meaning (Detail), Wood, machine knitted synthetic yarn, paint, Left work: 80 inches high, 22 wide x 30 deep. Right work: 86 inches high, 41 wide x 8 deep, 2013. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
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Bent out of shape, the failed search for meaning (Detail), Wood, machine knitted synthetic yarn, paint, Left work: 80 inches high, 22 wide x 30 deep. Right work: 86 inches high, 41 wide x 8 deep, 2013. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
How have you have applied what you have learnt?
I applied all this in my studio to some degree, but I mostly learned how to work with materials. I learned how to let the materials tell you what they want to do and say. My training gave me the knowledge of how to conceptualize what I already knew I wanted to do with my hands. It's always been about making things, something that was there from my childhood, working with my hands. I learned how to think about the work I was always doing.
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Blue and Orange (Studio Installation), Knitted natural and synthetic yarn, pillow stuffing, various plastic forms and sono tubes, Blue, 76 inches high, 30 inches wide, Orange 84 high, 36 inches wide, 2011. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
How did you initially start showing your work in galleries?
I guess I started showing my work as an undergrad when I was at the Ontario College of Art and Design. I showed in galleries or was curated into shows that friends were putting together. I wasn't, nor have I ever been too prolific as far as showing in galleries is concerned. I'd like to change that though in the future. I put out a lot of applications, and get offers to show from time to time, but it's never really been top of mind stuff for me. I guess I just like to think about and make work mostly.
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Two Solitudes, I Destroy What I love, Blue, 38 inches high,8 diameter. Red, 26 high, 8 diameter, Knitted synthetic yarn, sono tubes, 2012. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
When working on site with your installations, how much do you improvise?
I try to plan as much as possible before starting the installation process. This usually involves what materials and tools I may need to bring with me, or how I envision arraigning the work in a space. Sometimes I throw all that planning out when I'm actually there in a space. I get excited in empty spaces actually. I get energized when confronted with a blank slate as it were. At other times I stick to my plans. It's a gamble, depends on my mood, who I'm working with, or the actual context of the show and the space, and if there's flexibility to change things once the process starts. I'm pretty open to change and suggestions from people. It's always interesting to see how others read my work and what they might suggest about how the work can be composed in a space. I guess what I'm trying to say is that there are no rules when it comes to the installation process. But in the end, I have to feel comfortable with what is there and how it looks, how things are arranged in a space. There needs to be a dialogue that makes visual sense to me.
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Green man, Knitted synthetic yarn, pillow stuffing, various plastic forms, 34 x 20 inches, 2011. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
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Rainbow brain, machine knitted synthetic yarn, various plastic forms, 18 x 10 inches, 2011. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
What do you consider to be the key factors to a successful career as an artist?
Probably networking. Getting out there and being seen and having you and your work closely associated. I still have work to do on that end; I don't feel like I've been as successful as I could be. At the end of the day you really just have to make the work you want to see. Trust your vision and be determined. Persistence is key factor too. Never let anyone to allow you to doubt yourself and your work.
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Stretched to my limits, how soon is now, Left work, yellow: 79 inches high x 36 W x 18 D, Right work: 90 inches high x 42 W x 18 D, Knitted yarn, wood, nails, 2013. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
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Stretched to my limits, how soon is now (Detail), Left work, yellow: 79 inches high x 36 W x 18 D, Right work: 90 inches high x 42 W x 18 D, Knitted yarn, wood, nails, 2013. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
What other fibre artists are you interested in?
Fred Sandback comes to mind initially. He created minimal line drawings using only yarn in gallery spaces. When I was a young undergrad at OCAD this was very groundbreaking stuff for me. I tried to emulate some of his work back in the late 1990s in my work live space. In fact, last year I did a few installations for a show at the Gladstone Hotel with Sandback in mind. I made line drawings on the walls and in the gallery space using only coloured yarn. Jim Drain is another fibre-based artist I like too. His crazy, colourful work just amazes me every time I see it, very inventive with form. You really just need to look at Drain to realize how my early fibre based work developed. Jim Isermann and Mike Kelly are two other artists that I like, but I'm not sure there's enough time or space to go into how they have influenced me. Lots of design and formal work with Isermann, and in the case of Kelly, narratives and personal history that tell a story using old stuffed toys and found textiles.
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Line work, for Fred Sandback Studio installation, Yarn, nails, variable dimensions, 2013. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
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Line work, for Fred Sandback Studio installation (Detail), Yarn, nails, variable dimensions, 2013. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
Tell us about your studio and how you work:
Having just relocated, my studio is in flux at the moment. I'm working in a different way right now and my process has changed a bit. Like I said above, I'm getting back to a more minimalist frame of mind and I'm looking to do more installation based work rather than object making. But my former studios were always a place that I liked to keep a little messy. I like to be able to just go there and make a mess. I usually don't plan too much when I'm making work. I just start on a project that I may have envisioned. That can sometimes start with drawing, or I'll just start to build and put some materials together, or I'll just start to knit and build things around lengths of textiles that are appealing to me. There's an element of play involved when I'm in the studio. I allow myself to just let go of preconceived notions of what art should be. It's the way I cook too; I just go into the kitchen and work with what's there. If I'm particularly motivated, I'll run out to the store for some ingredients, or if I'm in the studio some materials. I've been playing chess everyday lately, and it's that kind of serious kind of play that I've developed in the studio. I respond to moves I make with materials and forms, and then respond to that response. It's an ongoing process.
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Line work, for Fred Sandback Studio installation, Yarn, nails, variable dimensions, 2013. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
What interests you about the World of Threads festival?
I think it's a great festival. Putting together a large-scale exhibition like this must be a huge undertaking. But I think it's an important thing to do, getting a wide variety of fibre-based artist together to focus on the medium. It's amazing how diverse the work is; it really speaks to inventiveness of fibre-based artists. I really hope to take part in a larger way sometime in the future!
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Line work, for Fred Sandback Studio installation (Detail), Yarn, nails, variable dimensions, 2013. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
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Line work, for Fred Sandback Studio installation, Yarn, nails, variable dimensions, 2013. Photo: Andrew MacDonald. |
Do you have any upcoming shows?
I have a few irons in the fire right now, and a few offers as far as shows and other activities are concerned. But I'm not able to comment specifically on any details at the moment. I'll keep you posted and I'll make an announcement any day now.
I have a residency in Scotland at the Scottish Sculpture Workshop, from July 7th to the 7th of August this summer.
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