Ruby Sky Stiler – Ghost Versions
Ruby Sky Stiler: Ghost Versions
Ruby Sky Stiler’s practice hinges upon a compression of cultural referents, an espousal of both high and low, and an incorporation of the monumental and the cast off. Her recent Hydrocal plaster wall reliefs (2013–ongoing) evolved from an initial experimentation with a familiar art material into a more profound inquiry into the history of classical plaster casts and the rise and fall of their value and meaning over time. Stiler’s plaster cast reliefs originate from discarded compositional elements from past pieces and fragments found in her studio. In using these remnants, Stiler conjures a “ghostly reference” to objects she describes as “no longer in existence.” For The Aldrich, Stiler presents a site-specific installation of her own wallscale plaster reliefs alongside a selection of Greek and Roman classical casts. The wall reliefs encompass multiple casts of her works designed as a repeat tile pattern. Stiler’s process is informed by an extensive investigation of authority, value, and taste, weaving together imagery from the realms of architecture, craft, design, and art history, such as Hellenic bas-relief, Le Corbusier’s concrete buildings, Picasso’s sgraffito ceramics, Native American pottery, Matisse’s cut-outs, Louise Nevelson’s monochromatic assemblages, and municipal sculpture. Curator Amy Smith-Stewart discusses the exhibition with Ruby Sky Stiler. — Amy Smith-Stewart: You grew up in New Mexico, surrounded by expansive rock surfaces that appear carved by hand, but were in fact eroded over centuries, curves that are so harmonious they appear sculpted, shaped on a more instinctual level. Did this influence the way you relate and work with material as a sculptor? Ruby Sky Stiler: New Mexico is an unusual place. There is an ingrained “make-do” spirit that spans time: from the ancient dwellings carved into the soft cliffs at Bandelier to the contemporary community of off-grid misfits living on the mesa. In many ways, aspects of my work embrace that same “bricolage” ethic. I’m interested in the hopeful, human gesture of striving to create a new form from disparate, available parts. AS: In earlier bodies of work, your sculptures took the form of vessels, reliefs, and female nudes, and employed foam core and acrylic resin. Your process was curious, because the works had the appearance of stone, marble, and ceramic, magnified by their iconography, which borrowed from ancient Egyptian, Greek, and Roman art and architecture, as well as indigenous New Mexico pottery traditions. Yet up close, they revealed a hand-built technique (hot glue dripped between the seams of the collaged pieces
Louise Nevelson (1899–1988), Dawn’s Wedding Feast, 1959 Installation view of the exhibition Sixteen Americans, The Museum of Modern Art, New York. December 16, 1959, through February 17, 1960. Photographic Archive. The Museum of Modern Art Archives, New York. (IN656.16) The Museum of Modern Art Digital Image © The Museum of Modern Art/Licensed by SCALA/Art Resource, NY 2015 Estate of Louise Nevelson /Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York
and finger impressions were visible in the acrylic resin). What first drew you to this specific imagery from classical antiquity and Native art? And why move from collaging and inscribing into the resin on the foam core to casting in Hydrocal plaster? RS: The reference to classical iconography and antiquity popped up in my work after a visit to Pompeii years ago. At the time, there was a controversy involving the colors of the restored frescoes at the historical site. Apparently “Pompeii Red,” which is synonymous with our collective sense of this historical time and place––and a standard paint-chip color–may have been an archaeological mistake. Reports stated that the original color, a blue green, could have been oxidized through the heat of the fire to have a red appearance. Meanwhile, the entire site has been restored with this color in mind. I love this demonstration of history as a constantly evolving story that engages fiction. In my work, there is often a play with authenticity and with how that quality is perceived, creates value, and can prompt an atmosphere of authority surrounding the object. AS: Your fascination with classical plaster casts—their storied popularity and recent publicity due to global events that have challenged original works in situ (lost or damaged due to environmental impact)— developed initially from testing the plaster and casting
procedure in the studio. What is it that specifically attracted you to the classical casts—was it their diminishing value and recent ascent in popularity? RS: My interest started intuitively, in the studio, thinking of ways to incorporate and repurpose salvaged parts of past studio work and errant scraps into a new form: crumpled foam core, a representation of a body part, a pattern. A cast functions to both elevate the scrappy original and act as a specter. Not long after I started experimenting with Hydrocal plaster in my studio, I came across an archival image of the Hall of Casts at The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Through my research I learned that at the time the collection was established, there was no stigma attached to displaying second-degree plasters, and the collection was invaluable as an opportunity for the American public to see the world canon of sculpture. Eventually, when “real” works were accessioned, the plasters were shipped off to a warehouse in the Bronx. By the late twentieth century, most of the important institutional cast collections (now considered “fakes” or secondhand copies) were either given away to schools, stored, or destroyed. I remember the ubiquity of the cast copies of classical figures during my art school days. I’m interested in the instability of the cast reproductions, which have associations with death
Pattern Frieze (detail), 2015 Courtesy of the artist and Nicelle Beauchene Gallery, New York
and decay, but also offer the opportunity for us to embrace ideas about anonymous authorship, copies, and simulacra. The imitation of more elevated materials and the question of skill and craft, high and low, might also play with elements of kitsch. AS: The female nude is a recurring motif; does this interest in classicism stem from an exploration of the “ideal” form? RS: I’m drawn to the female nude because it’s a familiar convention—but it’s eternal and primal. It’s both personal and generic. AS: The title of the exhibition is Ghost Versions. Are you alluding to the classical casts as ghosts, or are the real specters in the room your casts of compositions that no longer exist? RS: Both! AS: There is a mash up of contemporary (Louise Nevelson also employed cast-offs to make her wall constructions), modern (Picasso’s sandblasted concrete outdoor sculptures and Matisse’s cut paper collages) and ancient art (mentioned above)
references in your plaster wall reliefs. The works range in scale from head (one tile), to body size (several tiles), to architectural scale (many rows of tiles), as seen here at The Aldrich. The forms within your abstract compositions often incorporate capitalized serif letters tipped on their sides, wavy or curvaceous lines, bodily impressions like skin creases or wrinkles, and finger patterns. These forms orbit each other and read almost like a hieroglyphic tablet. Do you see yourself operating as an archaeologist, digging up thousands of years of ancestry and then spinning it all together? RS: I think that metaphor works. I think of it as an attempt to create something that appears simultaneously connected to multiple periods of time—the past, the present and the future—but is firmly developing my own language. AS: You’ve titled exhibitions Inherited and Borrowed Types and High and Low Relief. You appropriate and combine bits and pieces of cultural debris from the most renowned masterpieces of Western history with elements culled from craft traditions, civic architecture, and public monuments. You employ materials and techniques that have very little inherent value. Why is
this destabilization important to you? By collapsing hierarchies, what do you hope will happen in the reception of the work? Are you shaking up preconditioned notions of taste and authorship, and do you think there is an underlying humor to your pastiche approach? RS: I hope there’s humor! Often there is an illusion built into the first encounter with a piece, which shifts as a viewer then examines it more closely. For example, on first glance a work made of construction foam might appear to be carved of a much higher material, like marble. These materials have entirely separate associations. I think about how strongly our sense of the value of that object is created by associations with “authenticity.” Once the true craftsmanship is revealed, how does this change the way we relate to it? Is it a really good fake—or a bad original? I think this is where the questions about taste can come up.
color to working monochromatically? Were you attracted to the perfection the white implies? Ultimately, the effect makes them appear like artifacts from the future. Is this a condition you are striving for, reaching back to hurl us forward? RS: Recently, my approach has been binary. I’ve been working in both modes: in the full chroma that you described, and also in plaster—which I think of as “ghost versions.” Both processes are manifestations of the same practice, but they are parallel and in conversation with one another.
AS: In your earlier foam core reliefs, you used acrylic color combined with resin to “tint” the works, giving them almost a patina. What moved you away from
AS: Your Hydrocal plaster reliefs result from molds made up of components abandoned in the studio: foam core remnants of parts of other pieces you’ve completed. They reference these works, quoting from the “authentic,” but since they are not based on an “original” work, the copy is “unique.” You even title the plaster reliefs unique copy #1 and so on. Can your plaster reliefs be read as simulacra, as they imitate or bear a likeness to the earlier foam core reliefs upon which they are based (abandoned studio remains recycled into compositions for the molds)?
Artemis, called the “Gabii Diana,” ca. 14–37 CE In the manner of Praxiteles (Greek, active ca. 375–340 BCE) Plaster cast from a Roman marble copy in the Louvre, Paris, after Greek original Lent by The Metropolitan Museum of Art (GR No. 29, Cast Cat. 706 Bellarmine Museum of Art, Fairfield University (Fairfield L1991.22) Photo: C. Manning, The Aldrich Contemporary Art Museum
Pablo Picasso (1881–1973), Profile, 1967 Sandblasted cast concrete The Israel Museum, Jerusalem, Israel. Gift of friends of the Israel Museum, Antwerp Bridgeman Images © 2015 Estate of Pablo Picasso / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York
Is this what makes the relationship to the classical casts so compelling? RS: I think that’s a part of the attraction. The history of the classical casts like the ones we’ve borrowed for this exhibition is so curious, because it’s always evolving. They seem to continuously fall in and out of favor. On the one hand, they are merely reproductions that quote the precious original, and on the other hand, they are historical objects in their own right. A century has passed since their creation. In some cases these plaster casts now contain more information that the original works they are derived from. AS: You selected seven Greek and Roman casts to display alongside two of your own wall reliefs, one colossal in scale, comprised of forty-eight tiles sized at 2 x 2 1/2 feet apiece, and the other, a diptych, more modest in size— but still commanding—comprising twenty tiles of the same dimension. The classical casts are exhibited on two platforms across from each other with elevated risers to display the works at varying heights. The Ghost Version (large frieze) is centered on the wall between the two platforms. The classical casts range from architectural to sculptural fragments, an entablature, a torso and a remnant of drapery from a towering statue, a portrait head, crouching and standing goddess figures, and a young male figure. Why this particular selection of casts, and how did you determine their placement in the gallery? Is there a hierarchy or narrative to be read into the display, or is there an intentional leveling of interpretation? Erechtheion Entablature Block, Acropolis, ca. 430–420 BCE Plaster cast from marble original in the British Museum, London Lent by The Metropolitan Museum of Art (GR No. 301, GR301 Bellarmine Museum of Art, Fairfield University (Fairfield L1991.13) Photo: C. Manning, The Aldrich Contemporary Art Museum
RS: The borrowed casts are displayed in a deliberately non-hierarchical, non-narrative format. My interest is in highlighting their material associations, and their formal relationships; I hope their arrangement feels contemporary and visual—as opposed to academic. AS: What is it like to see your own works side-by-side with the sources of inspiration, and what are you hoping audiences will glean from this compelling juxtaposition—what overlapping narratives or relationships do you intend to happen? How has the directness of this presentation and the works’ interconnected relationship in the installation informed the elements within your own wall reliefs? Do the repeating patterns and designs within the reliefs refer to the lines, forms, or visual information from the classical casts? Is there also a concern for the mythological stories these objects embody, or was it purely an incorporation of certain decorative details that attracted you, like the heavy folds of the drapery, the swirls of the hair, the curves of the fig leaf? RS: I incorporated iconography appropriated from the borrowed casts into my own compositions—a texture, design, or detail. I also noticed that relationships emerge between my own visual tendencies and the borrowed pieces. Abstract shapes begin to refer to the figure, and so forth. I feel that the installation of the borrowed casts at The Aldrich has the effect of contextualizing my wall friezes as architectural, or even as a theatrical backdrop. Ruby Sky Stiler was born in 1979 in Portland, Maine, and lives and works in Brooklyn, New York.
Works in the Exhibition All dimensions h x w x d in inches unless otherwise noted
Ruby Sky Stiler Ghost Version (diptych), 2015 Hydrocal plaster 46 1/2 x 135 Ghost Version (large frieze), 2015 Hydrocal plaster 23 feet 1/4 inch x 9 feet Courtesy of the artist and Nicelle Beauchene Gallery, New York Victorious Athlete (Westmacott Boy), ca. 450–420 BCE Plaster cast from marble original in the Museo Barrocco, Rome 43 1/2 x 21 x 5 Lent by the Metropolitan Museum of Art (GR No. 25, Cast Cat. 611), Bellarmine Museum of Art, Fairfield University (Fairfield L 1991.2) Head of Iris, 442–438 BCE From the East Frieze, Block 5, Parthenon, Athens Plaster cast from Pentelic marble original, Acropolis Museum, Athens 8 x 10 1/2 x 3 Gift of the First Ephorate of Prehistoric and Classical Antiquities, Acropolis Museum, Athens, 2010 Lent by the Bellarmine Museum of Art, Fairfield University (Acc. #: 2010.02.03)
Erechtheion Entablature Block, Acropolis, ca. 430–420 BCE Plaster cast from marble original in the British Museum, London 19 1/2 x 38 1/2 x 20 Lent by The Metropolitan Museum of Art (GR No. 301, GR301), Bellarmine Museum of Art, Fairfield University (Fairfield L1991.13) Head of “Eubouleus”, 340-300 BCE Attributed to Praxiteles (Greek, active c. 375– 340 BCE) or a follower From the Ploutonion at Eleusis Plaster cast from marble original in the National Archaeological Museum (no. 181), Athens 25 x 17 x 10 Lent by The Metropolitan Museum of Art (GR No. 230, Cast Cat. 693), Bellarmine Museum of Art, Fairfield University (Fairfield L1991.21) Torso from a Statue of Hanging Marsyas, ca. 200–150 BCE Plaster cast from Roman marble copy of Greek original in Berlin 36 1/2 x 16 x 12 Lent by The Metropolitan Museum of Art (GR No. 163, Cast Cat. 834), Bellarmine Museum of Art, Fairfield University (Fairfield L1991.25a)
Lykosoura Drapery, early 2nd century BCE Damophon (Greek, active early 2nd century BCE) From the Colossal Cult Statue Group at Lykosoura Plaster cast from original marble in the National Archaeological Museum (no. 1737), Athens 50 x 20 3/8 x 12 5/8 Gift of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2004 Lent by the Bellarmine Museum of Art, Fairfield University (Acc. #: 2004.16) Artemis, called the “Gabii Diana,” ca. 14–37 CE In the manner of Praxiteles (Greek, active ca. 375–340 BCE) Plaster cast from a Roman marble copy in the Louvre, Paris, after Greek original 63 1/2 x 21 x 19 Lent by The Metropolitan Museum of Art (GR No. 29, Cast Cat. 706), Bellarmine Museum of Art, Fairfield University (Fairfield L1991.22)
Crouching Aphrodite 19th century plaster cast of a marble Roman copy of the 1st or 2nd century CE, from a Greek Hellenistic 3rd century BCE original, in The Metropolitan Museum of Art 43 x 24 x 28 Gift of Yale University Art Gallery, 2015 Lent by the Bellarmine Museum of Art, Fairfield University (CAC 2014.03.01)
The Aldrich Contemporary Art Museum Founded by Larry Aldrich in 1964, The Aldrich Contemporary Art Museum is dedicated to fostering the work of innovative artists whose ideas and interpretations of the world around us serve as a platform to encourage creative thinking. It is the only museum in Connecticut devoted to contemporary art, and throughout its fifty-year history, has engaged its community through thought provoking interdisciplinary programs.
Board of Trustees Eric G. Diefenbach, Chairman; Linda M. Dugan, Vice-Chairman; William Burback, Treasurer/ Secretary; Diana Bowes; Chris Doyle; Annabelle K. Garrett; Georganne Aldrich Heller, Honorary Trustee; Michael Joo; Neil Marcus; Kathleen O’Grady; Lori L. Ordover; Martin Sosnoff, Trustee Emeritus; John Tremaine Alyson Baker, Executive Director Larry Aldrich (1906–2001), Founder
Cover Pattern Frieze (diptych), 2015 Courtesy of the artist and Nicelle Beauchene Gallery, New York
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Ruby Sky Stiler Ghost Versions Curated by Amy Smith-Stewart May 3 through October 25, 2015 The Aldrich Contemporary Art Museum
The Aldrich Contemporary Art Museum, in addition to significant support from its Board of Trustees, receives contributions from many dedicated friends and patrons. Major funding for Museum programs and operations has been provided by the Department of Economic and Community Development, Connecticut Office of the Arts; the Anna-Maria and Stephen Kellen Foundation; The Leir Chairitable Foundations; the Goldstone Family Foundation; and the Anne S. Richardson Fund. Generous support for exhibitions has been provided by the SAHA Association, The Coby Foundation, and The Pollock-Krasner Foundation, Inc.