ART CAKE RESIDENT PRESENTATION SERIES MICHELE RUSHFELDT: KALL MEG EN PLANTETØS
JUNE 4 – 25, 2022
OPENING: JUNE 4, 4 – 7P
For the third year of the studio program, Art Cake is pleased to present a solo presentation by participating artist, Michele Rushfeldt. On view in Michele Rushfeldt: Kall Meg en Plantetøs is a new large-scale sculpture, measuring twenty-feet long, suspended from the ceiling. This is the eighth part of a series that Art Cake has organized for the participating artists-in-residence as an opportunity to present and document their work outside of the studio.
“Everyone has such a fetishization of plants and heritage right now that we’re all hoarding plants and learning languages and calling ourselves original. This is a way to remind myself not to take it too seriously, it’s a kind of self portrait. My previous body of work was about observing the exhibitionism of others. This is more of a voyeurism of self. People discuss how many plants they have with each other in the same way and in the same glee that they have when they’re discussing their kinks and sexual interests. They tell their friends the number of plants they’ve collected in the same level of excitement and tone that they would use to say ‘Please, call me daddy.’ And obviously I’m one of these people. The work is about investigating your own fetishes and laughing at yourself in a big way and inviting others to do the same with a shrug that says, ‘Yes, I'm kind of ridiculous and I make no apology.’
Recently I’ve been spending a lot more time outdoors hiking, farming and taking care of animals. I find the extreme contrast between the naturalistic materials like plants and moss against the wildly unnatural materials of spray paint, rubber, rhinestones and steel properly reflects my internal conflict between my need for the city and my desperate want to be in the woods barefoot.”
- Michele Rushfeldt
MICHELE RUSHFELDT IN CONVERSATION WITH MARINA GLUCKMAN
MG: Here, we are looking at your largest installation to date, titled Kall Meg en Plantetos. It measures approximately twenty-five feet long and is suspended from the ceiling. Could you talk us through the process of developing this site-specific installation?
MR: It is closer to 30 feet with the harvested moss panels on the floor! Those were originally going to be on the wall, but it turned out it all needed to be one piece in the end. I wanted to create something that reflected the over-the-top contrast I feel between my two environments - the woods and the city - while also continuing to work with the materials and colors that represent my kind of chaotic, utilitarian aesthetic. I ended up having to attempt to visualize how the cladding materials would look after I bolted the different segments back together on site - a process that I struggled with, but that I found very interesting at the same time. I had a hard time even figuring out what the piece was all about until I got close to finishing it. So many of us, including myself, have such a fetishization of plants and heritage right now that we’re all hoarding plants and learning languages and calling ourselves original. This is a way to remind myself not to take it too seriously, it’s a kind of self portrait. That is the reason for the title as well - "Kall Meg en Plantetos" means 'Call me a Plant Slut' in Norwegian, the language of my family that I've been learning for the past couple years. It is also playing on the delight of those who are recognized for their plant sluttines - they want to be told they are impressive for the number and size of plants they possess. They want to be told they are the best plant sluts. Myself included.
MG: Departing from previous sculptures where you utilize materials, such as latex, rope, rhinestones, and steel, that are often associated with sexuality and kink, in your current installation you have introduced natural elements, including plants and moss. The new materials in your practice sets up an interesting contrast between unnatural and natural elements within the composition. This was a conscious decision that alternates the character of the work, and I’m wondering what led you to work with these new materials?
MR: Recently, I’ve been spending a lot more time outdoors hiking, farming, and taking care of animals. I find the extreme contrast between the naturalistic materials like plants and moss against the wildly unnatural materials of spray paint, rubber, rhinestones and steel properly reflects the internal conflict between my need for the city and my desperate want to be in the woods barefoot. I've always been a bit feral… it's my natural inclination. I'm definitely still using the kinky materials, but the focus has shifted slightly to how people fetishize everyday things, and talk/brag about them in the same way they would their sexual fetishes or sports accomplishments.
I find that a lot of the materials that I'm attracted to end up being somehow heavily used, whether that means rusted, torn, bent, ripped, or dented. I'm very interested in the process of wear and tear, and how it contributes to the roles that people exhibit. An example that has always fascinated me has been the person on their way to a kink event - perfectly costumed, coiffed, considered, propped, and prepared for whatever role they plan to embody. By the end of the evening, their makeup is smeared, they're sweaty, the rollscape has potentially shifted, their shirt might be ripped, etc.
MG: Balance seems like a major factor within all your sculptural works. Often you juxtapose hard, heavy materials, such as steel, with soft, light materials, such as styrofoam. The sculpture installed here is in five parts. How is the balance achieved and how often do you rework the materials to establish the preferred form?
MR: Balance plays a huge role in my work - literally and figuratively (so to speak). Usually, my pieces are either balancing on or against the architecture, or dangling from it. I like the idea of the sculptures being figures that are trying to keep their balance or regain it by reaching their tippy toes to the floor or holding themselves against the wall, yet are unable to manage it. The steel "figures" are usually being held up by materials that COULD fail, in theory, giving the balance a more precarious feel. This work was particularly challenging in that it was the first time I've created a piece that was intentionally modular. I welded each segment separately in order to transport them and get them into the gallery, then bolted them back together in the air, which was extremely difficult. It is a completely different way than how I usually work, to think ahead that much. Normally, I build material onto a piece until it is done, but with something this large, I had to think about how each piece would look bolted onto the center section without actually seeing it until the week of installation. I knew things would have to be trouble-shooted onsite, but there was a LOT that had to be done. Luckily, I have a really supportive studio assistant (husband), who puts up with my bossing him around on show weeks. The balance, in the end, was achieved by plants, which is extraordinarily appropriate conceptually and literally. Every time I added on another plant on each end, the balance shifted. Even watering one side more has an effect. This is one of the first pieces with plants, and I found that I got an absolutely decadent, pleasurable thrill from watering my own sculpture and achieving that balance simultaneously.
MG: Over the last several years your color palette has usually included black, white, red, and now green. How much of your palette is based on the materials you are working with and/or the desire to give your sculpture a certain charge (emotion?)? How do your selected colors work with the intention of your sculptures?
MR: I used to work with more color, but I found that it created a confused-looking result. I found that the form and materials were more important and minimized the colors to keep from being distracting. I stick to colors that remind me of the dirty floor of a dark wave dance club - black, dirty white, a few glints of red, and glitter.
MG: In 2021, your work was the subject of a solo exhibition, Rakish Exhibition(ist), at Cathouse Proper, where you presented eight sculptures in a gallery with Robert Mapplethorpe’s Tulips from 1988. How does the present installation relate to some of the works that were on view in the show, such as On all Fours or Hooked (both 2020) or do you feel you have moved a new direction?
MR: My previous body of work was about observing the exhibitionism of others. This is more of a voyeurism of self. People discuss how many plants they have with each other in the same way and in the same glee that they have when they’re discussing their kinks and sexual interests. They tell their friends the number of plants they’ve collected in the same level of excitement and tone that they would use to say "Please, call me daddy." And obviously I’m one of these people. The work is about investigating your own fetishes and laughing at yourself in a big way and inviting others to do the same with a shrug that says "Yes, I'm kind of ridiculous and I make no apology".
MG: What other ways has your work evolved over the last two years? I remember you began doing some works on paper as well as on felt wrapped around foam. These works contain some of the same gestures of your sculptures and compliment them well. Have you continued to explore this medium?
MR: The work has shifted dramatically lately, and has been getting progressively more mobile-like, but I’m constantly shifting with material and scale. The materials from my previous works and these new works seem to all draw from the same general color scheme and aesthetic, though, so they can all live together in the same room. The works on paper are my constant struggle, and that’s why I feel like it’s important to keep trying to make them. Sculpture comes intuitively to me in a way that 2D work never has. I used to be a painter and was, like most painters I talk to, perpetually in a state of frustration. I would enjoy painting them, and when they were done I would realize that they looked generic and contrived. This is still the issue I’m dealing with as I try to make drawings and prints. I’m forever trying to make them feel like my sculptures with only a few bursts of success that I can’t seem to duplicate. At least it’s an interesting struggle.
MG: During one of my first studio visits with you in 2020 you told me that you had been a synchronized swimmer in your youth. Somehow this fact has stayed with me and is interesting to think about in relation to the gestural aspects––the consistent turns and twists––of your sculptures. Do these two practices have any particular relation to you?
MR: My lifelong involvement in Synchronized swimming completely contributed to my interest in camp and exhibitionism. The performative, overly-sexualized nature of the sport has been something that fascinated me forever, even before I had a more adult perspective on how strange it all was. It’s essentially burlesque for teens in a pool, judged by overweight, elderly folks on mobility scooters. Certainly the sport has its merits, and it’s very enjoyable! It was just incredibly odd for me to go from my avidly churchgoing household, with images of Jesus and Mary staring at you from every wall, to a competition where both my mother and my coach would pile makeup on my face like a pageant, and essentially ask me to seduce the judges. Anyway, that’s where the original idea for using rhinestone came from - my brain definitely draws a line from the costuming and choreographic elements between that world and the performance of kink and sexual exhibitionism.
MG: Art Cake has been so fortunate to have had you in residence over the last two years. It has been great to become more familiar with your practice. What plans do you have on your horizon and how can we follow your work?
MR: Thank you, it’s been such a pleasure. I’ll be moving into a shared studio space with some friends and continuing to split my time between there and my welding studio in CT. I'm currently in the process of building a forge to heat my steel (and playing with my animals in the greenery, or course)! Please follow my work on my website, michelerushfeldt.com, and on instagram @michelerushfeldt.