A Submersible


Nicolas Feldmeyer (August 2012) 



Nicolas Feldmeyer, Untitled, (Wasteland), 1 minute 51 seconds, HD video, 2012

Nicolas Feldmeyer: So I've used my little camera sometimes, it's really nothing sophisticated, to just film everyday objects I find around in the kitchen or in front of the house and to film them with macro, really close up, making them monumental.

The images here are of sugar cubes but in the image you get an architectural dimension, a kind of monumental presence which I thought was quite interesting. I've also been reading a bit about Eastern observations of impermanence, constant transformation. In this video this is very present because you think you know what you're looking at but it then transforms from a static monumental situation to a kind of erosion and ruin to finally arrive at a romantic landscape. The contemplation of landscapes is something I'm very interested in.

A Submersible: It's amazing, at the end of the video, the way this looks like there’s a bird flying and you can see like a horizon...

N F: It includes chance as well, it's not all in my control. You can manage to control a certain number of parameters in this kind of work and the rest… it's chance and making a lot of them. With these sugar cubes I did about 20 or 30 videos and only one was interesting. And the rest… not. I keep them as sketches sometimes, thinking maybe one day they're going to inspire new work, but I don't know if it works like that.

A S: There's no sense of the outside in this one, you don't know where this is happening, it's like a whole world. Is that something that you like to have as I noticed in your other videos there's no reference to external things.

N F: You're right. I didn't really think of that actually. The frame defines a place when you dive in and go somewhere else. Sometimes I like to play a bit with the illusion that brings you inside the picture. The pictorial illusion of a landscape that is destroyed in a way by the beginning of the video where you see how it's made up. It's make believe but also it shows you the trick. I used that in the postcard collages. You see one landscape for example, but you also see that it's made of two images pasted together and that makes an ambiguous or impossible space maybe. So there's a bit of deconstruction.




Picture
Nicolas Feldmeyer, Reformators, 10cm x 15cm, postcard collage, 2011 (Photograph: Nicolas Feldmeyer)



Picture
Nicolas Feldmeyer, Patience Without Pressure, 10cm x 15cm, postcard collage, 2012 (Photograph: Nicolas Feldmeyer)



Picture
Nicolas Feldmeyer, Untitled (Cheddar Gorge), 10cm x 15cm, postcard collage, 2011 (Photograph: Nicolas Feldmeyer)



Picture
Nicolas Feldmeyer, What they were told, 10cm x 15cm, postcard collage, 2011 (Photograph: Nicolas Feldmeyer)
A S: What about the things that are referenced here? You know like cities, roads and streets?

N F: I think to speak very generally, I'm really interested in artificial structures versus natural structures. Man made interventions in the landscape, or I've done some geometric patterns added to rain for example. It's an interaction between some kind of structure, some geometry which is perfect and rational, perfect in the mind and some natural structures that are beyond our control and are much older than we are. And I think of course architecture is in that place as well, between the natural and ideal world I guess. So in the post card collages a lot of architecture is referenced and cityscapes as well.

A S: It interested me when you were talking about the natural versus the constructed. Are there particular things you're interested in within that contrast. Maybe you don't think about it in that way and it's more intuitive. But I mean the reason you chose to have this particular photo of water in one collage and a certain pattern in another for instance?

N F: Well I guess it makes an echo in the mind, that's what I like. The conflict, the dialogue between natural and artificial structures provides for me kind visual metaphors for states of consciousness. Somewhere between knowing and recognizing patterns, having an overview and control over a situation, and total chaos and the anxiety or liberation that goes with it. It's a kind of unresolved ambiguity.




Picture
Agnes Martin, Starlight, 20 cm x 20 cm, watercolour and ink on paper, 1963




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Agnes Martin, Untitled, 21 cm x 21 cm, red ink on paper, 1963




Picture
Agnes Martin, Untitled #22, 183 cm x 183 cm, acrylic on canvas with graphite, 1988




A S: It's interesting what you said about this mental activity and how everything echoes. And that seems like what can appear to be going on in a lot of abstract art…..

N F: Well I am fascinated by abstract art, Mondrian for example. This idea to make pure abstract structures that reflect the pure abstractions you can have in your head. But when it gets too intellectual it loses something for me. I guess the person who's most inspiring for me would be Agnes Martin. She was making very geometric paintings mostly with horizontal lines. I think she did a few with vertical lines and then gave up and went back to horizontal lines. And I think everybody was trying to link her to the minimalist art of the same time but she was considering herself more like an abstract expressionist. Because of the deep spirituality and the more… I don't know how to describe it, but her research was more… maybe formally it looked like the minimalists but she was interested in the very deep personal and subjective and intuitive meaning, more like the abstract expressionists. Rather than the very intellectual. She was more interested in emptying her mind I think. That's something I find fascinating. I guess both the research and the result; and the person as well. She's very unique I don't know many people who have this mix of almost new age spirituality and at the same time this abstract purity. She talked about how she liked Beethoven and the Taoist teachings. So I don't know how she managed to put that together but it seemed to work fine for her.

A S: So perhaps you'd like to talk about that or go back to your work…

N F: I think it's more interesting to talk about Agnes Martin. I mean she used to teach portrait and landscape painting in school and one day she decided to destroy everything because she had found her mature way of painting. And then she did that for many years I think. And then one day she stopped again and moved out of New York and went to live on one of these flat-topped mountains in America. She went to live there alone for seven years and didn't do any work. And then she came back to painting. I don't know, I think she was a very interesting person.

A S: And when you talk about contemplation - I mean just looking at your own personal reading - is it contemplation of the work? Or when you go into that kind of zone then it lets you think about world more generally in a different way?

N F: Well for me it's contemplating nature or what's around me. But obviously I could do that all by myself in a room. I guess when I do art works that I would call maybe contemplative then I hope that I'm going to share this state of consciousness with the viewer or that I can make a work that's going to invite a viewer to enter this kind of mood, this contemplative mood, of quiet observation, of slightly letting go of the ‘making sense of’…. I'm talking about very simple things. I'm talking about looking at what's in front of you.

A S: So say you create this work and it does have this contemplative effect on someone, is it that you think, or you hope that the work produces a state of mind which then can be applied to whatever? So are you creating the state of mind which can be applied to whatever or are you creating state of mind applied to what you have made?

N F: Oh no, - I'm obviously not in control - but I guess ideally I hope I'm making fingers pointing at the Moon.

A S: What do you mean?

N F: Well the work isn't very important. It's just trying to point at something that is important. So ideally if someone looks at the work and finds something in himself or herself or in looking around that seems meaningful, then it's a very successful work. If the person would just stay at the level of "this is an art work and I'm at an art gallery and is well done or not well done” then obviously it would be less successful.

A S: You said how there's this idea at some point for you in your work where there's like a click in your mind, and it's structured but not rational. What's going on in these moments in your work for you?

N F: They're just like non linguistic ideas, ideas but with no words. So you can have perfect clarity with something that you can't really explain. It's more kind of experiential… yes I guess clarity.

A S: But I mean within that you can think of lots of experiences that you can't put you finger on, that you can't talk about. So some of them can be quite aggressive, like if you were at a gig with very aggressive music. But within this non linguistic kind of realm, do you think there's a mood to your work? I mean it's non linguistic so maybe you can't...

N F: It's a lot to do with harmony, or even if I create ambiguous situations they tend to be maybe unresolved but still calm or quiet. I think it’s looking for some kind of connectedness with things. If you contemplate nature there's a kind of sense connectedness with nature. And this obviously brings with it a great sense of calm and peace.

A S: And with that connectedness, is it about seeing how things link up? Or how you link up with nature?

N F: Yes I guess when you look at a forest or trees in the park and you feel that it makes sense. That again is not very easy to explain but it's very easy to experience it just needs sitting down normally. That's something that if you attack it rationally you could destroy easily. There's you and then the tree and then that's it. But the experience of it can be much more and I guess that's something fascinating.

A S: How do you find being in this territory? Maybe not as an artist but as an art student? Was that tricky? What's required in terms of talking about your work. Is it that you can have a sense of the unknown but as long as your aware that it's in your practice then….

N F: I think most tutors were welcoming an approach that could involve a more spiritual level.







Picture
Nicolas Feldmeyer, Untitled (Two Doors), 42 cm x 29.7 cm, giclee print, 2012 (Photograph: Nicolas Feldmeyer)







A S:
So perhaps we could move onto something more specific, someone else who's inspired you perhaps or something you've done?

N F: Do you know these artists Peter Fischli and David Weiss. In one of their photographs everything is made of Styrofoam.

A S: Yeh where they make these scenes that look very realistic but they leave in any imperfections. I happened to look at them this morning when I was looking for some parallels in photography to your Untitled (Two Doors) piece.

N F: You know with that work that it was a computer rendering? So that's the image is completely produced on this software, there's no reality.

A S: Does that form part of it for you or is that just a tool?

N F: I guess ideally if there were to be a weirdness like in a Thomas Demand image that would be perfect. Where it's close enough to reality to catch your eye but it's weird. Which this image doesn't do because it just looks like a photograph actually. I mean I've shown it to a few people and nobody ever thought of computer renderings, because…there's no clue...

A S: Well photographs can look very strange and still look like photographs, this one does I feel.

N F: Did you think that it looked strange? What was strange?

A S: Well this perfect whiteness, that was strange because it was like going out to infinity.

N F: Did you wonder where it was for example, if it was in my flat or a museum?

A S: I remember thinking it was in a massive house, and for some reason the way the door is kind of a bit fuzzy there in this area…

N F: That makes me quite happy that you saw it as slightly strange. For example this one has a very simple story. When I was living in Zurich, I woke up in my flat one morning and I saw that the door of my room was open and the door of the living room was open and it created exactly this image of going from very dark to very light though two doors, and it seemed…it clicked! It seemed like something I understood.

A S: Because there's structure, there's two doors, dark/light….

N F: And you have the things that are at a right angle and you also have this progression towards the light which is a very symbolic gesture obviously. It could be in an esoteric way or it could just be when you get up in the morning and you just want to go there where the sun is. But obviously the source of light was hidden which was interesting as well. So I just made a sketch, I mean it was a few years ago and I didn't think about it anymore.


Links:

www.feldmeyer.ch

Interview conducted in person, (August 2012).


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