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| ''First Draft''
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| '''Sus: Where are you based? Do you see location as a generator for idea source material, medium etc?'''
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| Sri: Well, I am currently based in Rotterdam, but I’ve been making work in New Zealand for a while now, and I think New Zealand’s geographic distance from these kind of main art centers has had quite a big impact on my work. Quite often my source material comes from images or other works or books that have kind of come out of these bigger art centres. I always remember there is this Modernist painter named Colin McCann and you go to art school and all through high school and everything is in response to Colin McCann and I remember reading about, he often uses black and white in his paintings, the only way he could gain information about what was being made over seas, because it never comes down to new Zealand because no one can afford to bring the work down so we only ever see work that is mediated through books, now the internet, so when Colin McCann was painting the only way he got to see work was through black and white photocopies which I found really interesting. I mean who knows if that’s what made him work in black and white but I always like the fact that he was in some way only seeing work through photocopies and that effected the way he then made work. and I think this is true for me and something that I’ve always played on, my source material is being mediated from these larger art centers, and mediated through image and text, so I think, yeah.
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| '''Sus: What was the first work that turned you on?'''
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| Sri: well, I think, funnily enough it was a Colin McCann painting, I had a friend in school when I was about 12, and my friends parents were quite wealthy and like art collectors and they collected a lot of new Zealand art, all the male painters, and I remember going round to her house for the first time and in the hallway they had a huge Colin McCann painting, a black and white number series, and their house was super gothic, this old villa, it was really cold and really dark and then you had this super dark black and white painting so it was black background with white numbers just painted on to it, I think it was his “Teaching Aid”(?) series, then I sometimes confuse it in my mind with his “rocks in the sky” painting series so it’s all a bit confused for me, and we used to put our shoes underneath it when we arrived, so it’s this kind of banal relationship to this painting, it was kind of like the first actual art work I’d ever seen because my parents had no relationship to art.
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| '''Sus: There’s a conception that artists spend a lot of time working in the studio. Is this true for you?'''
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| Sri: Yeah, kind of. I have a weird relationship to the studio. Because my work goes through many different phases, there’s the research phase, then the thinking phase, I tend to kind of hate being in the studio for that. I prefer to walk, I think through walking, but then when I do get down to making the work I am really jealous of those people who have like a 9-5, who are always in the studio making making making, and that gets me really anxious that I’m not doing that. so my relationship to the studio shifts and changes. I used to have a studio in my house, and I used to work in my pajamas. I like that accessibility of being able to shuffle around.
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| '''Sus: When do you work best?'''
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| Sri: I’m a late night person, although I’m finding that that’s changed. I’m definitely not a morning person, although I do find that it’s easier to read texts in the morning. Yeah, it’s weird—in NZ I used to start working at 8 until 2 because it’s really quiet. The night time is really productive for me.
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| '''Sus: How do you know when a work is finished?'''
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| Sri: Just feel it. But I think there are certain works, like I have a couple of sculptures in my parents garden at the moment and they were…the works that I make are present…they continue on in time and therefore are never finished. so like these sculptures were in an installation in this gallery outside and now they’re sitting in my parents garden, where they’re getting leaves and rot on them, I feel like it’s still part of the process.
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| '''Sus: So this leads into the next question of time in your work. It’s clear that it’s an important element of your practice—how do you see time as activating your work?'''
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| Sri: I think time is a huge part of my work, my work often deals with movement, so of course you have the time of the performance, so with the works that I’m showing in the show some of the sculptures have come from an installation that also had performance as part of it, and I wanted to use the performance as part of the material of the installation, so it was kind of about not seeing the parameters of the exhibition space as closed, but that the choreography would live on in the body of the dancer who came and performed on the site. so it was kind of about exploring the parameters of a work beyond it’s time allocation and presentation. so again this idea that these sculptures exist in my parents garden so the time of works is going beyond their presentation and also the past is part of my work, using documents, or images from past performances or past texts, so my kind of activating those documents or archives has become a way of working.
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| '''Sus: What is your relationship to the process of installing work, and what was your intent in installing this recent work? And what was your intent on bringing these two works together?'''
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| Sri: Well, often with the works I make they are not autonomous, like I like the idea that works can shuffle around. so you could have made a work 3 years ago but it could sit with a work that you made now, and they could have a conversation together. it’s like this kind of, I feel like there is a borderless sense to the work, a shuffling or assemblage, they’re not fixed. a kind of slipping. so I’ve pulled together sculptures for this from 3 different shows. but all of the sculptures are based on the idea of the prop or the backdrop so they’re not really sculptures they’re props, they sit in this limbo between a prop and a sculpture, and this idea of something or an object that is part of a system that needs a body to complete it. so when you have a prop it’s only activated by a person using it, this idea that property in theatre…prop comes from the word property, so when you’re holding the prop, it’s your property but then as soon as you pass it on to someone else then it’s their property, so this idea of property that shifts from person to person who’s using it, so not as something that can be locked away or owned from a distance, it’s about the ownership of touch and use. so then the shuffling of objects through different installations and being used in different ways and not having an autonomous life as such, and then you can re-assemble them to deal with that. and so I thought about this idea of installing a show where different shows come together, so it creates a space where you have a backdrop and these sculptures, so it looks like it could be a theatre space, or a space that needs a body or the viewer to complete it or activate.
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| '''Sus: I think this idea about a body activating your work is quite interesting. I wonder if there’s between, for instance how you often use dancers, and that kind of activation body vs. the body of the viewer? How do you deal with people who walk into the space? What if one body was there, or the other, or both?'''
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| Sri: Two of the objects come from this installation where I had the dancer perform as well and they were out on this terrace and what I wanted was to create objects that people didn’t know whether they could use or not, but did kind of engage with. so one of the objects is based on a set of Yvonne Rainer stairs, so there’s a set of concrete stairs that each step is a different height. with stairs there is always a kind of rhythm, as you’re going up a set of stairs you can judge it and through the repetition you can judge how high to lift your leg. my stairs disrupt that. every step you take you have to think. I wanted them to be made out of concrete to be kind of tempting to the viewer so they’d ask, can I engage with this? can I sit on it? there was also a volleyball that rolled around the space, which came from an Yvonne Rainer performance as well, and what was really nice was that I’d visit the gallery and some people would be using it and you’d go in and some people would be kicking around the ball and not realizing they were entering the work themselves and using these everyday…like how do you respond to a ball? you use these everyday actions and then yeah. what I would want for the exhibition was can the viewer engage with it or not to be told, but to see…it’s about choices I guess. maybe it’ll be different bringing the sculptures inside. maybe it won’t set up that relationship. it’s like an intimacy with things—can you touch it, or sit on it…
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| '''Sus: what about the idea of the trace in your work? how do you translate a human presence for instance?'''
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| Sri: I feel like the trace of time is more present than the trace of the human element,. I only say that because some of these sculptures have been sitting outside, they’ve taken on the imprint of leaves and stuff, which will be kept on then, so time is enacted. But it’s a good question, if you’re wanting a viewer to engage a body, how can you show that it can be done?
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| -------
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| ''Edited Version''
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| [ brief description of works please - 1 sentence on each will do- S]
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| '''Sus: Where are you based? Do you see location as a generator for idea source material, medium etc?'''
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| Sri: I’m currently based in Rotterdam, but previously I was based in New Zealand, where I grew up. I think New Zealand’s extreme geographic distance from any kind of main art center has had quite a big impact on my work. Often my source material comes from images, other works or books about goings on in the art world at large that I have collected. There’s a Modernist painter from New Zealand named Colin McCahon, he’s someone you learn about all throughout both high school and then art school, and I have this feeling that in a way, for many artists, everything is in response to Colin McCahon. He often uses black and white in his paintings, and I always wondered if this had to do with the fact that when he was working, the only way he could gain information about what was being made overseas was through books with black and white images. Original works often never make it down to New Zealand because no one can afford to bring them there, so artists only ever see work that is mediated through books (and now the internet). So when Colin McCahon was painting the only way he got to see work was through black and white photocopies which I found really interesting. Who knows if that’s what actually made him work in black and white, but I always like the fact that he was in some way only seeing work through photocopies and that it could have effected the way he then made work. This is something that I’ve always played on and been aware of, that my source material is being mediated through the second hand images and text of these larger art centers.
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| '''Sus: What was the first work that turned you on?'''
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| Sri: Funnily enough, I think it was a Colin McCahon painting. I had a friend in school when I was about 12 whose parents were quite wealthy and collected a lot of art, particularly male painters from New Zealand. I remember going round to her house for the first time, and in the hallway they had a huge Colin McCann painting, one of his black and white number series. Their house was super gothic. It was an old villa, really cold, really dark. And then you had this super dark black and white painting with a black background and white numbers painted on to it. I think it was his “Teaching Aids” series, but I sometimes confuse it in my mind with his “Rocks in the Sky” series. We used to put our shoes underneath it when we arrived, so there was this kind of banal relationship to this painting. Because my parents had no relationship to art, it was the first actual art work I’d ever seen.
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| '''Sus: There’s a conception that artists spend a lot of time working in the studio. Is this true for you?'''
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|
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| Sri: Yeah, kind of. I have a weird relationship to the studio. My work goes through many different phases. For the research phase and the thinking phase, I tend to kind of hate being in the studio. I prefer to walk. I think through walking. But when I do get down to making and am in the studio, I feel jealous of the people who have a 9-5 studio practice and who are always in the studio just making making making. It makes me feel anxious that I’m not doing that, so my relationship to the studio shifts and changes. I used to have a studio in my house, and I used to work in my pajamas. I like that ease of being able to shuffle around.
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| '''Sus: When do you work best?'''
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| Sri: I’m a late night person, so the nighttime is really productive for me. Although, I’m finding that recently, that’s changed. I’m definitely not a morning person, but I do find it easier to read texts in the morning. In New Zealand I used to start working at 8pm and go until 2am because it was really quiet.
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| '''Sus: How do you know when a work is finished?'''
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| Sri: I just feel it (laughs). I do have certain works, though, that are ongoing. For instance I have a couple of sculptures that, in a way, continue on in time and therefore are never finished. These particular sculptures were installed outside of a gallery and now they’re been moved to my parents garden where they sit accumulating leaves and rot on them. I feel like it’s an important part of the process.
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| '''Sus: This leads into the next question of time in your work. It’s clear that it’s an important element of your practice—how do you see time as activating your work?'''
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| Sri: I think time is a huge part of my work. My work often deals with the body and movement, so of course you then have the time span of a performance. With the works that I’m showing here, some of the sculptures have come from an installation that also included performance, and I wanted to use that performance as part of the material of this installation. So it’s about not seeing the parameters of the exhibition space as closed but rather considering that the choreography that was performed lives on in both these sculptures and the body of the dancer who executed it on site. I’m exploring the parameters of a work beyond its time allocation and presentation, which brings us back again to the notion of these ongoing sculptures that exist in my parents garden. The past is also an important part of my work. I often use documents or images or texts from past performances, so re-activating those documents or archives has become a way of working for me.
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| '''Sus: What is your relationship to the process of installing work, and what was your intent in installing this recent work? What was your intent on bringing these two works together?'''
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| Sri: Often with the works I make are not autonomous. I like the idea that works can shuffle around-- that you could have a work that’s 3 years old but it could still sit with a work that you made today, and they could have a conversation. I feel like there is a borderless quality to my work, a shuffling or assemblage or slipping. The works themselves are not fixed. For this show I’ve pulled together sculptures from 3 different shows, but all of the sculptures are based on the idea of the prop or the backdrop. So, they’re not really sculptures or props. They sit in limbo. They both, however, share the idea of an object that is part of a system that needs a body to complete it. In theatre, the word prop comes from the word property. A prop is only activated when a person uses it. When you’re holding the prop, it’s your property. But as soon as you pass it on to someone else then it becomes their property. I like this idea of property in relation to a shift from person to person. It’s not about the object being locked away or owned from a distance but rather about the ownership of touch and use. So this shuffling of objects through different installations and their being used in different ways allows you to consider how they have no autonomy. I thought about this idea of installing a show where different shows come together and od using a backdrop, so it looks like it could be a theatre space, or a space that needs a body or the viewer to complete or activate it.
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| '''Sus: I think this idea about a body activating your work is quite interesting. How you often do you use dancers, and how do you consider that kind of choreographed body vs. the body of the viewer? How do you deal with people who walk into the space?'''
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| Sri: Two of the objects I’m showing here come from an installation where I had both a dancer perform as well as a number of sculptures out on a terrace. I wanted to create objects that people didn’t know whether they could use or not, but could kind of engage with. One of the objects is based on a set of Yvonne Rainer stairs, so there’s a set of concrete stairs where each step is a different height. With stairs there is always a kind of rhythm; as you’re going up a set of stairs you can judge it from memory and through the repetition you can judge how high to lift your leg. My stairs disrupt that. Every step you take you have to think. I wanted the stairs to be made out of concrete to be kind of tempting to the viewer so they’d ask, can I engage with this? Can I sit on it? There was also a volleyball that rolled around the space, which came from an Yvonne Rainer performance as well. What was really nice was that I’d visit the gallery and some people would be using it, kicking it around and not realizing they were entering the work themselves. How do you respond to a ball? You use an everyday action. The question I wanted to pose for this exhibition was can the viewer engage with it without being told? Maybe it’ll be different bringing the sculptures inside. Maybe it won’t set up that relationship. It’s about an intimacy with things—can you touch it, or sit on it…?
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| '''Sus: what about the idea of the trace in your work? How do you translate a human presence, for example?'''
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| Sri: I feel like the trace of time is more present than the trace of the human. I only say that because some of these sculptures have been sitting outside, they’ve taken on the imprint of leaves and stuff, which will be kept on then, so time is enacted. But it’s a good question, if you’re wanting a viewer to engage a body, how can you show that it can be done?
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