fictitious force, 2013, at Governors Island
Evoking Blair Witch Project vibes using a combination of mixed media and natural materials often “discarded by nature and civilization,” Gabrielle Duggan’s installation artwork entangles questions of societal trends, nature, religion and our own perceptions of reality.
With a background in just about every artistic endeavor including drawing, drafting and fine-art photography, with a degree from FIT in Manhattan for Apparel Design and a Masters from North Carolina State University in Fibers and Surface Design, Duggan’s intricate and layered projects exemplify her varied experience in all capacities. Originally from Buffalo, N.Y., she made her way to Atlanta just last year to join Georgia State University as a Visiting Lecturer of Textiles.
Here, we talk to Duggan about her thought-provoking installations, exciting upcoming collaborations and the “vibrant” art scene in the city she currently calls home.
CommonCreativ: How did you get into art? Were you always interested in installations or did that come later?
Gabrielle Duggan: I’ve been drawing since I can remember, and have a few memories of stringing up my room when I was maybe 4 or 5 years old. I spent a lot of my childhood building forts and models out of found cardboard, textiles and other refuse. It was exciting to eventually learn art’s potential beyond the aesthetic and, of course, that installation is one of many avenues in this discipline.
HASHTAG, 2014, Installation in progress and detail as large stencil
CC: What inspires your designs? Where can one find your installations?
GD: The Hashtag [piece] was made in response to the lineage of claiming territory through mark-making; from cave paintings to graffiti to the hashtag. I got to throw it up at Krog [Tunnel] briefly in December—I used the whole piece as a giant stencil and have been doing smaller works on paper with that same technique in ambiguous text such as ‘OK’ and a diptych that can read either as WHAT NOW or NOW WHAT. I’m reconnecting with drawing/works on paper and looking forward to bridging this intimate scale with the larger impact of my installations.
My work is generally ephemeral. I have an installation up right now for IndieGrits in Columbia, S.C., for which I will be playing the work as a large instrument via contact microphones and in collaboration with Nic Jenkins. This month, I’m creating an installation at the Musk Ox Farm in Palmer, AK that will engage the audience, and I’ve had a work installed at Artspace in Raleigh, N.C. since 2013.
The artist at Krog Tunnel
CC: Your installations intertwine a variety of natural materials and mixed media. How do you pick these?
GD: I select my materials intuitively. My sourcing is driven by both sensuality and necessity. Characteristics of tension, viscosity, weight, malleability and availability all influence my choices. I have some survivalist tendencies and like the challenge of working with what has been discarded by nature or civilization. From there, I can edit to call upon hierarchies of class and gender. I really enjoy building construction materials and aesthetics, and habitually approach media with obsessive, repetitive, techniques rooted in fiberwork. Right now that looks like: metal wire and rusty bits, roofing tar (there are several types available), fibers from raw wool to polyester upholstery thread, glass, rocks and branches. I’m about to get into magnets, plasti-dip and qiviut.
CC: How do you promote yourself?
GD: I do a little online (Instagram and Facebook, trying to keep my site up-to-date seems most important), though it never feels like enough. I’m the person who needs to make reminders in my device to take a moment to post. Lately, I’ve been interested in connecting IRL. Getting to know people as people, not just as our work or representatives thereof; these feel like stronger, more accurate connections. We all want to work with people we get along with, even if we are mostly corresponding online to develop a work or show. Relationships—business and otherwise—require trust and understanding. I’ve found this especially true as an installation artist. For instance, most of my work can’t exist without someone first trusting me with their space, which is a inversion of the process most artists encounter when having work to present for exhibition.
altared spine, 2014, at Governors Island
CC: Do you have any new projects or collaborations in the works?
GD: Yes! I’ve been collaborating on a video piece with Raleigh Artist Neill Prewitt that we plan to show in September. On April 25, we presented it in-progress at the BurnAway Office in Castleberry Hill, which will play in their window at night throughout May. I’m also working with Movement Artist PJ Maske this June in San Francisco. Our project, Natus, is presently not being publicized, and is materializing in the style of Ana Mendieta’s work and DIY documentation.
CC: What are some of your favorite projects/artists in Atlanta?
GD: I was looking forward to getting better acquainted with Trek Matthews and Stephanie Dowda via IndieGrits, and was excited to learn of Danielle Deadwyler’s work. Of course I’m inspired by the folks [behind] Dashboard, WonderRoot and the Goat Farm. I’m excited to dig into projects like Art on the BeltLine. I’ve also been inspired by my students—it’s exciting to get a sneak peek of what Atlanta and the world will be enjoying in the future.
islands, 2014, knit cotton and wool
CC: What do you think of the happenings in Atlanta’s creative scene right now?
GD: Vibrant. Diverse in scale, scope, people, goals…it’s very healthy and alive. It seems to have a supportive, ‘go team’ community spirit associated with smaller towns, but it’s situated in a large enough environment with plenty of influx so that there’s a lot to miss if you don’t keep up.
CC: Where are some of your favorite spots to enjoy the warm weather months in Atlanta?
GD: Apparently I think it’s a good idea to run away to Alaska! I haven’t spent a full summer here yet, but I do expect to sweat a lot of it out in my studio. So far, I’ve enjoyed the Botanical Garden and Isamu Noguchi’s Playscape in Piedmont Park, in both sunny and rainy weather, and of course, the BeltLine is priceless.
You can see more of Gabrielle Duggan’s work on her site.
