Alyssa and I had the following conversation after a visit at her studio on a recent rainy Monday evening.
Her upcoming show at
Tracy Williams opens on November 6.
(Alyssa Pheobus, Endless House, 2009, graphite on paper, 72" x 53")
Molly Stevens:
So, first thing, did you know that I'm ten years older than you.
Alyssa Pheobus:
That's news to me.
MS:
Do you think that means anything?
AP:
Well, I'm sure it influences our interests, sense of historical perspective, sympathies with other artists, etc. And you have more experiences to draw on!
MS:
I guess so. I think there's a thing going on with artists born in the 70s. We're not into irony. That annoys us. (I like to talk in general statements.)
AP:
Right.
MS:
I think we're into authenticity but with some humor.
AP:
I think artists who are interested in authenticity can do it in a self-critical way without being ironic.
MS:
How would you generalize 80’s-born kids?
AP:
80’s-born kids are disconnected from the major world turmoils that were so present for previous generations. The result is that some become nostalgic for resistance movements, theory, activist tendencies, others could care less... I'm also speaking generally of course.
MS:
I love generalizations, actually. Do you feel disconnected?
AP:
Sometimes I do feel disconnected.
MS:
Me too.
AP:
How do your feelings of disconnection work? I mean, how do you experience them? How do they affect what you do/make?
MS:
I have a pretty strong sense of inner and outer. In fact I have a lot of voices from the outer and I wish they'd shut up sometimes. What about you?
AP:
In the day to day, I experience this disconnected feeling similar to what you describe.
MS:
When you approach a drawing, do you approach it from an outer or inner voice?
AP:
Drawing is totally personal and inward-looking, with outer (borrowed) voices being channeled inward all the time. I go into a fort of sorts when I'm working. And I think the work reflects that. It's very private, solitary. But usually I can re-enter my social obligations and talk about it later.
MS:
It's interesting though, your drawings don't cry out "inner voice."
AP:
No. But I think that’s because "inner voice work" has the problem of appearing naive, hysterical, wounded, wacky much of the time.
MS:
Well put. I think viewers and even artists look for that.
AP:
I'm proposing that an inner voice can be just as measured and calculated or poised as any other. It can be as expressive or non-expressive as you want it to be.
(Alyssa Pheobus, Harder, Harder, 2008, graphite on paper, 72" x 53")
MS:
I want to talk about chance.
AP:
Sure.
MS:
Chance can have a lot of visual looks. What I mean is that chance can look wacky, or it can look measured.
AP:
Right, and chance can be politicized.
MS:
What do you mean?
AP:
If you want to invite chance into a situation (basically inviting disorder into a situation of stasis, or order) then you also have to acknowledge that there's a system in place that generates the possibilities. And choosing a system and its elements is meaningful, and certainly affects your outcome or outcomes.
MS:
Can you illustrate this idea?
AP:
This is a really simple one: Let's say you consult the I Ching to make a decision about something important; the choice of that system isn't random and says something about your world view.
In our work, we both rely on chance operations sometimes, which lead to new connections that can be more interesting than the ideas that are clearly laid out or programmed from the beginning. But when you get down to it, we give ourselves certain, very specific and individual options to work with.
MS:
But there's always room for chance no matter how specific you are.
AP:
You're right. There's always room for chance, but I still think we have more of a hand in setting up the stage for the chance to happen.
MS:
I agree.
I think chance looks very different in your work than it does in my work. What role does chance play for you?
AP:
Right now the work is following a one-thing-leads-to-another sort of path.
MS:
I think that gives the work vitality. But within a single piece, do you deal with chance?
AP:
Sure, I'll start with a form, then it turns out differently than I expected, suggesting a different text intervention, and so on. The chance often lies in the space between what you think you want or are trying to achieve and what you actually get.
MS:
That makes me think about the inner voice look again. What I mean is that your work doesn't have the expected look of chance. But of course, it's in there.
AP:
Right. I guess it's never foregrounded in the work, which is why this is an interesting thing to focus on. How does your work deal with or incorporate chance?
(Molly Stevens, [Untitled installation], 2009, acrylic on board, approx. 5' x 6')
MS:
For me, chance equals being loose, and that is somehow an ideal or goal for me. Because I've spent so much time being uptight. So, when I was doing words I wanted to give into "free-association" as much as I could.
AP:
Which implies a psychological one thing leads to another.
MS:
Indeed.
AP:
Do you think of your work with language or even images in psychoanalytic terms?
MS:
Yes. What about you?
AP:
Psychoanalytic ideas certainly influence me. But I don't think my work goes after the subconscious as actively as yours does. The subconscious is definitely tied up with questions of the authentic inner voice.
MS:
What I think I’m getting at is this: Although there's a surface difference between your work and mine - very different in fact - I somehow suspect there's an impetus that's the same that just ends up looking different.
AP:
Yes, while you're focusing on looseness, opening up a gate, I'm interested in a tighter language.
MS:
Tell me about that.
AP:
I guess my work takes words out of context to really focus in on them, also to lay a claim on them, to take them apart, disorient someone's supposed interpretation of them. But it's done with a slow, intense, almost devotional hand, one that’s very different from the speed and spontaneity in your hand.
(Alyssa Pheobus, The Comber, 2009, handmade paper, 60" x 40")
MS:
So the focus or concentration is a form of authentification for you? The word or line becomes yours, personal. If that's the case, then our shared impetus is making something that is our own, no matter how fleeting that possession is.
AP:
That sounds right...I'm cathected to certain words whereas you're releasing them, but both imply a desire to possess.
MS:
Let’s call this Part I of the Interview.
AP:
Looking forward to Part II. Maybe we'll change our minds.
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