9/09/15/Keith Sonnier (c) copyright Liza Béar and Keith Sonnier 2015
THE BALANCE OF LINE AND CURVE
A Dialogue with Liza Béar
Bridgehampton,
Long Island, August 26 2015.
Liza Béar:
Being out here I’m struck by how much you’ve streamlined your living and work
space in one locale, physically and esthetically. You’re pulling yourself in,
as it were. Yet your latest series of light works, which I saw first as photos
then in the pristine new studio across the yard, consists of portals or
openings, as if symbolically you’re offering a means of escape—of going
outwards, elsewhere, to those places where art can take you.
Keith
Sonnier: That was exactly my
intent. The portal--whether it’s post and lintel, Romanesque, or Gothic—is
traditionally an entrance into other spaces or other worlds. It’s been the
heartbeat of architecture since we left the cave. As a viewer, you’re able to
“enter” this series because the work is not just attached to the wall but pulls
down to the floor as well. The viewer’s participation is a crucial concern of
mine. In many of my early works, Flock
Series, Ba-O-Ba Series, and Mirror
Act Series, all begun in the late sixties, you could “enter” the work by
seeing a reflection of yourself within it.
LB: The use of
glass was a reference to the mirror portal in Jean Cocteau’s 1950 film Orpheus, right, through which the
characters pass from the world of the living to the underworld. At what stage
of your life did you see the film, and how did it affect you?
KS: My aunt Evangeline had a movie house
in my home-town of Mamou and that’s where I first saw it in the 1950’s.
LB: At the
time, were you still a practicing Catholic?
KS: I was. So
the breaking of the mirror in that rite of passage, and those scenes of the
underworld in the film, must have had a major impact on me. It was a far cry
from religious depictions of the afterlife. It sure was not heaven.
LB: Or what you
had to do to get there,
KS: In the Portal Series, you’re standing not in
front of a mirror but in front of a doorway. It’s like you’re being invited
into the physical housing. Of course, an art work is already an act of
invitation, so the portal reinforces that concept.
LB: It’s kind
of a witty nod to architecture. We’re not literally walking under the arch or
between steel plates like in a Serra sculpture.
For the past eighteen months, you’ve been knee-deep in construction,
so to speak, with this two-step extension to your house, and a studio that
parallels it architecturally. Both buildings radiate natural light from
skylights and glass doors. You must have been caught up in the minutia of
planning with the architect. Did that also have an effect on the choice of
theme for this series? Indirectly, perhaps?
KS: Yes,
indirectly, certainly. The challenge of the new construction was to create a
continuous flow of movement as you
exit the old house and enter the new space. Conceptually, this was very
important to me. The Portal pieces
just developed naturally from thinking about this.
L’OISEAU
CHANTE AVEC SES DOIGTS
Orphée, Jean Cocteau, 1950
[INSERT
STUDIO PHOTOS]
LB: I know that
for you drawing is the life-blood of the work. It’s thinking visually on paper.
It’s still drawing old style, at the tip of a marker, a pencil or pastels--
KS: Right.
LB: How did the
series start?
KS: The series
really grew out of pieces I did two years ago, the Wall Extensions, where there is a perpendicular situation and the
work struts out across the floor at a right angle from the wall.
LB: But that’s
not really a portal.
KS: It is a portal,
in a way. It’s a line into space. It refers to neo-classicism. Rather than
flattening the picture frame against the wall, you pull out that
linear Poussin lay-out and thrust it
forward. I also had in mind the design principles that Thomas Jefferson used in
the construction of his Monticello house--a perpendicular plane intersected by
another perpendicular plane.
linear Poussin lay-out and thrust it
forward. I also had in mind the design principles that Thomas Jefferson used in
the construction of his Monticello house--a perpendicular plane intersected by
another perpendicular plane.
LB: The bulk of
the series was made this year, in 2015. How did it evolve?
KS: The Wall Extensions were very simple. Red.
yellow. blue, or blue gas and red gas for neon. But they had these suggestive
protrusions, which I saw as mini-portals. Because they came up to your waist,
the protrusions suggested the physicality of penetration. I was making a
phallic allusion. But, in terms of associations, they go way beyond that.
LB: I see!
Deceptively simple. The pieces have both lines and curves. But they’re
abstract, which paradoxically makes them more suggestive than a
representational image. So--you went from mini=portals to arches. Which was the
first arch portal that you made?
KS: The double
arch, the Gothic Portal. I was also
thinking of the arch as a gesture, as a movement in space. That notion was
present in my early work too, like Florentine
Series, 1986. A Romanesque
gesture is a rounded gesture. It’s like a wave, or a greeting. [INSERT LB
PHOTO]
GETTING
THE WORK ON THE HOOF
LB: How closely
do the finished pieces match the drawings?
KS: The work is
made in three stages. There’s the croquis,
the sketch or basic design.
LB: Which is
done d’un trait.
KS: Yes,
usually in a single draft. Then, in the studio on large sheets of brown paper I
blow up that small drawing to human scale and decide on the exact size. This
takes into account the logistics of fabrication, expense, how they can make a
certain tube, the available color. The enlarged diagram/drawing becomes the
pattern for the fabrication.
LB: Like in
dressmaking.
KS: It’s so
close! I call it my Schiaparelli principle. It’s my gesture, not the fabricator’s. He’s used to bending
the neon like spaghetti. The earliest neon works, made by Fontana, were giant
arcs of neon attached to the ceiling almost like a chandelier. In the thirties
Fontana designed several restaurant spaces in neon. Tubes come in 10mmm, 12mm,
15mm sizes. I never used the very fine spaghetti-like tubing because it’s too
fragile. My aim is to create a viable structure rather than be decorative. So I
relied more on 15mm and I went up as high as 25mm, which is almost the diameter
of a fluorescent fixture.
LB: The pieces
in Portal Series?
KS: They’re
mainly 15mm, easy to transport and easy to bend, and to deflect from one side
to the other and out into space. They’re harder. The large patterns that I make
are converted into lengths of neon tubes. When they come to the studio, I have
to assemble them and support them in the different spatial orientations I want
them to take. I don’t want the piece to be just a flat drawing.
LB: Right. More
a 3-D articulation. So for instance the piece that’s behind you, Helmut, [photo] 
which has one continuous arc of pale blue—is
this neon or argon?
which has one continuous arc of pale blue—is
this neon or argon?
KS: Argon.
LB: And then
there’s what I call the giant trombone paperclip shape, the yellow protrusion
which is wider tubing—
KS: Actually,
it’s not wider. It looks that way because it has pigment in it. The arch looks
thinner because the blue gas is fairly clear. Both parts are the same mil size.
LB: Amazing.
KS: I know, but
it’s an optical effect.
LB: Was this
one of your discoveries, that neon and argon are at base different colors? And
that adding fluorescent powder would extend the palette?
KS: As well as
tinted glass. Neon is an orangey-red gas. Argon is a very pale blue. Mercury
pellets are used to make it brighter. They have to be dispersed evenly in the
tube.
LB: Did you
find a new fabricator out here?
KS: Yes, one
closer to my Long Island studio. It turns out it’s someone I worked with in the
city thirty-five years ago who moved out here.
LB: Like you.
Let’s go back to the process. He makes the tubes, ships them to studio and you
put the different tube elements together yourself? [INSERT PHOTO]
KS: Yes. As
well as sometimes metal supports because if it goes out too far it might break
from its own weight. Although the
tubes themselves are very light.
LB: Those
little black L-shaped connectors, they don’t carry electricity, right?
KS: Those are
the caps covering the electrodes which do carry electricity and will shock you
if you touch one.
LB: Aha. The
danger element.
KS: Always. If
you break a tube and pick up both ends, you create the electrical connection
and you get shocked.
LB: We’ve known
each other a really long time—I saw your first pieces shown in New York, the
flocked wall piece, Mustee, and the
half-moon neon shape with cloth) 9 at Castelli on West 108th Street
in 1968, then your 1970 Projects show at the old, pre-redesign MoMA, and your
1970 Castelli shows at 4 E 77 and at the warehouse, for starters. How, if at
all, has your modus operandi changed over the decades?
KS: I’ve been
very lucky in that I’ve continued
to work. Many artists have periods when they can’t work or they can’t get back
into work. I think of my career maybe as what actors experience, that when
you’re not shooting a film, you have a lot of downtime. And I do have downtime
when work is from fabrication to shipment to installation-- LB: To exhibition.
KS: To
exhibition, which is something else entirely. I’ve learnt to use this time to
do research for the next series. Let’s say I become interested in a particular
thing, I begin to read about it. I don’t necessarily look at someone’s work and
say I’m going to make that. I’m more
interested in source material that I feel I have to investigate. For instance,
when I started making sculpture, I knew nothing about architecture. Because it
was now the architecture that supported the piece—we had abolished the base--I
began to study architecture. In my early era, architects didn’t want sculpture.
It was put in the corner as an afterthought. Not like in primitive societies.
LB: Ornamental.
KS: Ornamental,
and more like an obstruction than
an intervention into space.
LB: In 1989 you
had eleven solo shows, both in Europe and the US. Even now, in the past few
years, you still manage to do four shows a year in different sized galleries.
Have you become more productive?
KS: Well, in a
funny way I can use my time better. And I can produce better. I know the
shortcuts, and how to work with people. This is a collaborative medium and
quite frankly I can’t work alone. I can do one aspect of the work alone.
LB: The
originating aspect.
KS: To get the
work on the hoof, as I call it, takes a lot of people. In a gallery
installation, you’re not just hanging a painting on a wall. And then there’s
shipping.
LB: In June you
had a major Light Works exhibition, in France, at the Musée d’Art Moderne et
d’Art Contemporain in Nice. The catalogue was a mind-opener because of the
range of your work in this medium. I saw surprisingly daring pieces, like Prairie, (Gran Twister Series), 2012 and Opelousas, (Cat Doucet Series), 1996, pieces
of such formal complexity and
intensity and verve. Were they made in the 90s?
KS: Yes. The
Nice show pulled together many different aspects of the light work, exploring
the development of form language and intimate object manipulation. It also includes references to my
architectural work in light. In fact, the city of Nice commissioned a site
specific installation Passage Azur in
honor of the Nice 2015 Promenade des Anglais celebration.
LB: How
difficult is it to ship and install the work for an exhibition like Nice, and
how much do you have to get the elements shipped and put it together in situ?
KS: This is a
very important part of contemporary sculpture. There’s massive work like
Richard Serra’s where large steel plates have to be shipped in a container by
boat, or a fragile Richard Tuttle where they’re shipping two little ficelles: a lot of it has to do with
packing and organization. In my case, the works are laid down flat in a
cardboard crate then in a wooden box crate. They’re in layers. So you take
section after section and install. Amazingly, the material is strong enough if
handled correctly. It can go by air cargo because there’s nothing pressing
against it and it’s in a container that weighs way much more than the pieces.
LB: Were a lot
of the pieces in the Nice show from private collectors already in Europe?
KS: We didn’t
have the time to borrow work from collections, so the show was basically work
from the galleries that represent me and from my own personal collection.
LB: I like the
way that the term “light” has been
substituted for neon, because the work is both light in the sense of
illumination, but also in general
your work has a lightness of touch to it. This may be whimsical on my part, but
certain art critics love to use the word “heft”. That couldn’t be applied to
your work, because heft means density of presence—
KS: And mine is
just the opposite.
LB: Exactly the
opposite. I think of your view both of life and of art, that it should be light
and fun, and its presence more like magic: the glow, the brilliance, the wild
variety of color, and unusual sources of material--
KS: And images.
LB: Let’s talk
about color.
KS: But you
mentioned magic. That’s what I want the pieces to have. That’s what I strive
for. I want them to have some mystery and awe, so that you don’t quite know
what they are. The impact of the work comes from a response to the combination
of elements that create this atmosphere and mood, this imaginary world, which
hopefully is transcendent for the viewer.
LB: By the way,
we’re sitting in Keith’s--
KS: This is the
greenhouse. The
orangerie.
LB: The space
has two skylights, six rectangular glass panes close to the ceiling, sliding
doors to a pool, and a narrow glass door to a huge ancient tulip tree in the
front yard, which is why you bought this place.
KS: Exactly.
[INSERT PHOTO]
LB: Looking at
the Circle Portal on the wall--this is an irregular circle.
And to me the beauty of it is those
irregularities, which could have been off. But they’re not, due to the skill of
the draftsmanship. There are several versions of this piece, and one is closer
to a perfect circle. [INSERTPHOTO]
And to me the beauty of it is those
irregularities, which could have been off. But they’re not, due to the skill of
the draftsmanship. There are several versions of this piece, and one is closer
to a perfect circle. [INSERTPHOTO]
KS: Well, the
circle piece does have a story. It’s the piece I stayed with the most and it
harks back to my early neon pieces. I still do see artists’ shows, and I happened
to see an excellent Basquiat exhibition at Gagosian. I’m a fan of his work.
There was a circle piece in the show. What struck me was how the circle
absorbed the space, in the gallery and on the wall. It already has this cosmic eidetic?
I felt it belonged in my new series, that it might be very interesting to drill
a hole into space. Of course, this has been done by other artists. That’s what
Gordon Matta-Clark did with his cuts in buildings.
LB:
Literally--to let in light.
KS: Not to
mention his using spaces between buildings. How radical can you get! Anyway,
that’s how the circle pieces began. Of course, as I drew sketches, they ended
up looking like my work. They have intimations of a facial gesture or
expression: the head.
LB: But, as you
said earlier, the pieces can never be reduced to a pictorial image, only
suggest it.
KS: No, they
can’t. That’s not in fact what the piece is. I’m giving the viewer clues to the
road map.
LB: There’s a
blue and red piece in the Portal Series
called Wall Portal B. [INSERT
DRAWING] On the caption to the photograph I have it says that the blue should
be left and the red right. Is this a sly political innuendo?
KS: In a funny
way, perhaps. When I work, I work from one side to the other. If I place the
colors one way, then I’ll want to reverse them and see them the other way.
Though as my daughter says, the political parties are so similar now it doesn’t
matter.
LB: One of my
favorites in the series is Roman Portal.
[INSERT PHOTO]
KS: This is one
of my favorites too.
LB: It has a
great sense of humor.
KS: With that
little leg. It is very gestural. There’s something about this piece—it invites
you in but with this kind of écarté it forces you away.
LB: It’s quite
choreographic.
KS: Very much
so, and with very simple means. The focus is on the form.
LB: The balance
of line and curve. There’s no question that you’ve kept what in Avalanche we used to call formal
concerns. The formal concerns here are uniquely yours. Not only the choice of
materials and the sensibility.
KS: It’s my
language. 
END
© Copyright
2015 Liza Béar and Keith Sonnier. All rights reserved.
