INTERVIEW BY H CANDEE

“Random Uncertainty” 2020 Cast Silicone Rubber

MARTINE KACZYNSKI

SCULPTOR | EDUCATOR

Interview by Harryet Candee Photography Courtesy of the Artist

Harryet Candee: Can you please describe for us the life you had in the UK and how it may have left an indelible mark on who you are as an artist, educator and person? Martine Kaczynski: I grew up in London but my father was a German refugee who escaped the Nazi Regime along with his mother, brother, and his father who survived Sachsenhausen, a concentration camp 20 miles from their home in Berlin. The Holocaust survivors that entered England formed my community and I am a product of that environment, with its haunting history. Only recently has science caught up with what most of my friends knew at an early age - that our families’ trauma was imbedded in us. It’s left an indelible mark on who I am and how I see the world. My work circles around issues of safety, protection, and function. I re-contextualize objects initiating a deeper understanding of them, within the means and markers of settlement. I find myself examining our environment and interpreting elements of its ordered landscape. I’m drawn to civic architecture which navigates us through our daily lives, and the structures we pass by but forget to notice. They are on the side of the road or in between places; Storage units, gas stations, broken railings, washed out signs. Discarded. Abandoned. Invisible. At first glance the work is reassuring in its representation but deprived of its expected function or context it falls into a sense of uncertainty and doubt - quietly unhinging the stability of what we see. What prevails is a sense of dislocation, and the psychological complexities of our everyday experience. I don’t believe my work would have this focus without my history. Working in New York as a professor was a real treat. My students came from all over the world, the classroom was an education that went beyond any written syllabus. I think I capitalized on this by bending assignments to naturally celebrate their differences. Having a difficult history and coming from another country helped students feel ok with their own experiences. My job was to encourage them to utilize that as material for their work.

Martine, is there a connection to your childhood experiences and the art that you create now? My father loved art and we often went to museums and galleries and travelled great distances to see magical things. I saw the Pyramids at 14 and by 16 I was traveling regularly with friends around Europe and the Middle East. At 20 I was in China standing at the edge of an excavation dig

Millay Arts Installation ‘Landscape Paintings’ 2021 Aluminum

overlooking the Xian Warriors! Both my parents were passionate about art and travel and I’m forever thankful for that. I fell in love with the monumentality of sculpture through seeing so much at a young age. I think it’s why I’m drawn to architecture and large-scale work. I’ve always enjoyed making large pieces. I’m intrigued with our connection to history, maybe it comes from seeing ancient places, unearthed pots and pillars, statues and burial grounds; but ‘I’m struck by the similarities of a Greek temple, for example, and the proportions of a 1960’s gas station. I like those connections.

I really like the silicone rubber balls in the series Random Uncertainty. Can you tell us more about this? After collecting deflated and forgotten balls from an abandoned area in Troy NY, I left them on my porch only to find they kept rolling away in the wind. I’d find them in different places as I went about my day. Sometimes they would leave beautiful trails in the snow. The insignificant act of gathering and letting go and not controlling a situation felt poignant to me. What could be more absurd than to recast rubber balls in rubber and reenact the insignificant act?

What are you working on now? I just finished moving my ‘Landscape Paintings’ from Art Austerlitz to Millay Arts in Austerlitz NY. Don’t be fooled by the title, they are large outside sculptures that are made of aluminum and painted to match the environment. They sit in the landscape rather than depict it. These pieces were the result of moving from the city to upstate NY. I kept asking myself ‘how does a sculptor make a landscape painting?’ Matching the foreground and background tones of their surroundings these pieces advance and retreat into the landscape itself. As objects, these “signs” are in opposition to the norm; rather than being unambiguous and fixed they appear and disappear depending on the light and time of day. They are non-directional signs; they betray the trust and obedience we typically place in such authoritative objects. I’m also working on a piece called Fence/Defense. Although domesticated by material or color, the word ‘Fence’ originates from the word ‘Defense’; their designs still reflect our relationship to castles, stone walls, ownership and territory. History can be seen in the displays at Home Depot, like artifacts found in a shopping mall. I think that’s great.

Arts Austerlitz ‘Landscape Paintings’ 2021

Martine, has being an educator been a fulfilling experience for you? What do you love about teaching? I really enjoy understanding how people think and helping them find the confidence to speak up. A simple question about how they see space or how they measure time or even the weather can Continued on next page...

“Cast Off” 2021 Cast Cement and Cast Silicone Rubber

“Steps and Rails” 2010 Mixed Medium

reveal an entire universe. My job is to bring that to the foreground. To give people permission to do work that’s meaningful to them rather than to please others. If I’ve done a good job, I know I’ve given them the tools to make art for a lifetime.

What was the most difficult and challenging concept in art thinking / theory that you taught? Many years ago, when I was teaching sculpture at Pratt, I was offered a drawing class in the painting department by Donna Moran, the chair of The Fine Art Department at the time. She was curious to see what a sculptor would do with a drawing class. Back then drawing was taught as a supplement to painting, you could not major in it, and it was very traditional. I decided to teach a conceptual drawing class. The word ‘observation’ was brought into a wider context and could include drawing your thoughts. I called the class ‘Drawing in the Expanded Field’ after Rosalind Krauss’s book Sculpture in the Expanded Field. Thought and language were open for personal investigation. Experimenting and utilizing other drawing vernaculars, from graffiti to map making, was plausible and valid. I literally felt I was trying to change how students were thinking about art in a contemporary context. It was difficult at first to teach a new approach in that department, but within a few years the class was so full we had to offer more. Eventually Drawing had its own department and became a Major. ‘Drawing in the Expanded Field’ is still being taught today- which makes me so happy.

Can we look at your drawings and see how you have developed them into 3D art /sculpture? I am interested in how you work step by step until completion. I draw with the view to make. Sometimes I don’t finish a drawing until after the piece is done. Once I get what I need I just can’t wait to start. For large site pieces I don’t use models and I rarely use 3d programs, instead I go the other way. I draw it, cut it out, hold it up with an outstretched arm at a chosen site and move it around until it finds its place. I love doing that; its so low-tech it makes me laugh out loud.

What were some assignments to show that students were grasping the ideas you taught? Teaching, like most things, is accumulative; it’s not just the assignments but how you emphasize and deliver them. That being said, a very quick fun sculpture assignment was ‘Bake me a Cake’. No metaphors here, they literally had to bake me a cake. This assignment was given to new students, who are often nervous about their teachers’ expectations. I wanted them to relax and be open to new possibilities. They had to research and

“Drawing to 3D” 2017 Hanger and Cardboard

“Forest in Mourning” 2017 Aluminum, Plastic, and Paint

choose a cake, they had to practice making it, present it in an interesting way, write a statement, and document it. And finally, be judged on it. We invited faculty to come taste the results, and a prize was given for best in show. All those skills were transferable to other assignments and naturally it posed many questions about what art could be. From object to process to performance. It was a terrific way to start a sculpture class.

Do you have a special teaching technique or style that helps students understand concepts that may be new to them? I use humor and curiosity in equal measure and I never lie to them. If I think a piece isn’t good or if I think they are being lazy they will know it. I also encourage them all to be honest and generous with each other particularly during critiques. I have spent years in critiques where peoples’ egos get the better of them. It turns into a public humiliation arena and I don’t stand for that.

From all the places you have had your work on public display, what was your most favorite and why? ‘Route 11’, Gallatin NY. My good friends Greg and Sarah Lock asked me to build something on their land and become their first artist in residence. So, I built a full size replica of an abandoned gas station. The piece became the inaugural installation for Rural Projects Residency, which they still run. In honor of my grandmother, who was an Opera singer, I asked two opera singers from Bard college to perform under the structure for the opening. It was magnificent! The following summer I converted it into a solar powered outdoor cinema and ran movies there. Over the years the residency has used it for music and poetry events. It was the most physically challenging piece I’ve made, but I’m happy it stands 14 years later and is still being used. It truly looks like an abandoned site now. The evolution of the piece has gone far beyond my initial plans and that feels great. It’s also my favorite piece because it’s where I met my husband! The gas station is an iconic structure and symbol of the twentieth century. It represents speed, mobility, and power - car culture, pop culture, and a changing landscape. For me the piece also signifies the current debate surrounding the search for alternative energy. I see them dotted along the landscape like Future Relics; soon to be abandoned or reutilized for other purposes. So it seemed appropriate to convert mine into a solar powered cinema. I carried the narrative further Continued on next page...

“Route 11” 2008 - Present Mixed Medium

Solar Cinema at Route 11 Music Event 2018 features the musician “Ottomotty”

and advertised it for rent in the local newspaper an invitation for commerce and cultural engagement.

The mattress as a dock, “Safety Rafts” I really enjoy. Please tell us your thinking behind this installation. ‘Safety Rafts’ consisted of three floating mattresses with chrome handlebars placed in such a way as to negate the use of them entirely. They floated down the Skowhegan Lake during my stay at the residency there. These pieces mimicked the real dock that was just out of reach for me while swimming in the lake. I often feel that way towards safety - it eludes me. As an artist I see myself as a situationist; I respond and react to my surroundings. This means my work is always about a certain time and place in my life. And another of yours I am curious about is the U-Haul project. What is going on that we see and experience? While immigrating to America, my past and present caught up with one another. I became preoccupied with the building and moving process and the unstable nature of house and home. The work at that time was a reaction to those things that should offer a sense of security and comfort yet promoted the opposite. It’s best described by the German word ‘unheimlich’, which literally means NOT homely. My U-Haul blankets were part of a larger body of work that examined those feelings against the backdrop of the American Dream, with all its myths of freedom and success. I recreated one hundred U-Haul blankets but altered their idealistic logos to disaster images. I displayed them on shelves in piles, with fluorescent lights- similar to how they’re found at the tail end of a garage; but I felt they had more to offer. This led to an urban intervention whereby I recirculated them back onto the trucks themselves only to be used by an unsuspected audience.

What other artists do you follow, and why? I’ve always liked Andrea Zittel and Julian Opie. Both cross-disciplinary artists that utilize design and architecture. Although very different stylistically, they hold my attention through their editing skills and post-modern vision.

What is next for you, Martine? Where from here? I’d like to try and get some funding to ‘Adopt a Highway’ and invite other artists to make things

“Safety Raft” 1994 Mixed Medium

“U-Haul” 1997 Silkscreen on Felt

on the side of the road. I love seeing those signs that say you can adopt a section of a road – it’s a provocative use of language and an interesting space to investigate. There’s a very engaging history behind the campaign, which started in the 1980’s and brings up issues of the first amendment. I’d say it has a lot of potential.

If you can describe to us how you have mentally grown and changed over this past year, what would you say? Through the epidemic of Covid, I have been aware of people going through physical and mental metamorphosis. I have seen peoplee flourish with creativity and wanting to put their energies into something new and exciting. In addition to the staggering loss of life, and economic crisis, the pandemic has traumatized many people through panic, fear, and isolation. I feel very fortunate that I moved out of the city six years ago and live in the countryside, so many people I know lost their mental stability from being locked up in small city spaces. As an artist I felt emotionally more equipped than most, being solitary is part of the lifestyle but more importantly art is a powerful force. It has a function during difficult times and I’m so grateful that I can tap into that - it has saved me many times during my life.

Please share a reflective story from your life with us. A reflective story- I have them for sure: I stood at the top of Mount Etna, an active volcano in Sicily, when I was 6 years old. I remember it was very hot under my feet. We were at the crater’s edge and all there was to prevent you from falling in was a tiny piece of rope.

What are the best ways for people to follow you? My Instagram account is martinekstudio. And my website is www.martinekstudio.com

Thank you, Martine! M