Exquisite Corpse: Contemporary Conversations

Rashid Johnson NA + Charles Gaines NA

Rashid Johnson and Charles Gaines Season 4 Episode 2

The second episode of Season 4 joins National Academicians Charles Gaines and Rashid Johnson in conversation about the multiplicities of blackness, the properties of representation, and exploring materiality in art making. They discuss mutual friends, common references, and a substantial reading list. Rashid shares key reference points from his childhood that inform his materials and structures. Charles delves into the nature of the grid, elements of language, and the dynamics of representation. Together they share a mutual appreciation for each other, and the intellectual investigations that underpin their practices.

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Adrienne Elise Tarver:

Hi, I'm Adrian Elise Tarver.

Anjelic Owens:

And I'm an Angelique Owens.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

And we are the host of the National Academy Podcast, Exquisite Corpse.

Anjelic Owens:

This podcast is a series of conversations between artists and architects, who've been elected by their peers to the National Academy of Design for their extraordinary contributions to art and culture in America. These are the national Academicians. And they're at the core of the oldest artist-run organization in the United States. This is exquisite corps.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

Welcome back to another episode of Exquisite Corpse.

Anjelic Owens:

Yeah, we got two incredible artists in the show today. And we're lucky to find some time in their schedules to sit down and chat.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

Yeah, they're super busy. And so I'm so glad that this worked out. Um, but before we get to it, first, as always, our Historical Acknowledgement.

Diana Thompson:

Hi, my name is Diana Thompson and I'm the Director of Collections at the National Academy of Design. The National Academy of Design was initiated by artists and architects to fill a void in the American artistic landscape of the 19th century. But we recognize our history has excluded many communities and cultures whose lineages and practices must be included in this country's art historical canon. Indigenous peoples, people of color, queer and non-binary individuals and people with different abilities. We are committed to a process of dismantling the ongoing legacies of settler colonialism and white supremacy. We are excited to move forward and have conversations that reflect the important questions and issues of today. We are the National Academy of Design and you are listening to Exquisite Corpse.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

So, I'm super excited for this conversation. I mean, I know we both are.

Anjelic Owens:

Yes, super pumped, actually.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

We've been trying to do it for a minute. It's, you know, with busy people, it's sometimes hard to nail down schedules. We were so close to doing it in person. Which would've been so fun. But of course, alas, everybody has lots of things going on. But we were finally able to do it. And actually, because it got delayed, I was able to, before this happened, see, Charles' studio. I was in LA for Freeze.

Anjelic Owens:

Nice.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

I got to visit his studio. Really incredible space. It's in Architectural Digest, by the way. You guys wanna check it out.

Anjelic Owens:

Definitely check it out.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

It's beautiful. Looks exactly like it does in the pictures.

Anjelic Owens:

Yes.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

But it was nice to kind of get a little bit more intimate look into his work. Get to know him a little bit. I know you've been into his work for a long time.

Anjelic Owens:

Yes, I've been a big fan of Charles, honestly. I was first introduced to his practice at Parsons. And for myself, having a mathematical background, it was nice to see his work and to get a lot of inspiration from that.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

Yeah, I mean, I've both been curious about your math background since you know, you first interviewed for the job and seeing it on your resume. I'm like, tell me how that influences your art. So...

Anjelic Owens:

I'm definitely big on systems. Like I think that's been the crux, honestly.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

Yeah. And we talked a little bit about how, especially like this idea of, um, black artists using these kind of structures and systems, is like not especially common.

Anjelic Owens:

Yeah, that is true. And I think he's definitely been a pioneer for that, which is really cool.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

Yeah. And then of course he requested to speak with Rashid Johnson. Who I've been, you know, looking at his work for years. He actually went to my alma mater. And...

Anjelic Owens:

oh wow.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

...there's this sort of fluidness. He moves between mediums. Which is something that I try to do in my own work that I've always been really excited to see what he does next. Between the performance and video and sculptures and the tile, collage works and everything. It just, you know, there's such a like visceral material investigation that I'm so into. And can't wait for everybody to hear their really interesting conversation about like, that and everything else.

Anjelic Owens:

Yeah, this is a great, great, but long conversation.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

You know, it is. Sometimes you get into it and you get on a roll and you just don't wanna stop the train. It's hard to just stop in the middle of a thought or an idea. Unfortunately, we did have to do that. But I mean, there's so much good conversation here. And I know I would recommend, you know, get a pen and paper. Take some notes here. There's a lot to take away.

Anjelic Owens:

Yes. Get comfortable. All the gel pens. All the notebooks. Do your thing.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

So let's get into it.

Charles Gaines:

My name is Charles Gaines and I'm an artist, uh, living in Los Angeles. I've been living in Los Angeles for over 39 years. And I used to be a teacher. I taught for many years at the California Institute of the Arts. And recently retired. Not so recently. Maybe, but three years ago I stopped teaching. And uh, that's about it.

Rashid Johnson:

My name is Rashid Johnson. I'm an artist living and working in New York City. I have a wife and a small child. And they are a huge priority to me. And my art practice is second to that.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

Thank you both for joining. As I said, I'm gonna start with one question and then leave this up to you guys and come in only as needed. So my first question is for you, Charles. When we reached out to see if you wanted to participate in the podcast and who you wanted to speak with, you selected Rashi Johnson. Can you tell us why?

Charles Gaines:

Uh, yes, sure. I mean, it was, um, such an exciting opportunity for me when I saw I saw Rashid's name as Academician. Because actually I was introduced to Rashid's work years ago by Terry Adkins. And really, this was incredibly fascinated because I guess the thing that interested me was that the work on the surface seemed abstract. But I thought, you know, this one, I was just getting to know the work. Aside from this investment and the kind of experience that the properties of materials can produce, there was an investment in controlling or reading a language in these materials in order to communicate content. And when I first saw the work, Rashid, I didn't know what I was looking at. So, my first encounter was that it was, you know, like this is pretty powerful work. And so you, you have no idea the many hours Terry and I sat drinking whiskey trying to figure out what you're doing. Actually, Terry had a pretty good handle on it. But I didn't, as well. And through all of these conversations that we had, my investment got deeper and deeper. But, you know, years passed by. And I would see your, your shows and, and see the work here and there. And also at the same time, notice how your career really expanded quite quickly. And then the other thing that happened is, is your relationship with Kordansky. I discovered actually, almost simultaneous, the work and the fact that you were in Kordansky early on. And Kordansky is important to me because he was my student at Cal Arts. Cal Arts is a multimedia program. But he was there really making sculptural work. And then he decided to go into the area of, of being an art dealer running a gallery. Rather than an art producer. And I think that one of his early, good, uh, decisions was that he brought in your work into the gallery. And, uh, so I, just dealing with Kordansky I got to know to work deeper. So, when I, this is a long story. Then I got the chance to meet you from a distance because, uh, you've been with, uh, Hauser for quite a while and I was introduced into the gallery. And that's really the time that we actually had a chance to talk to each other. And at that point, I was interested in seeing how we could develop some kind of a critical discussion about art and, and our work. Because I thought that even though the work looks different and the critical language of representation is different, I thought they were interested in many of the same things. And I always wanted to, sort of, have a discussion with you about that. So, this opportunity was really about quite a wonderful thing to, to have happened for me. And so I have been looking forward to this conversation.

Rashid Johnson:

No, as have I. And, and, uh, Charles, thank you so much for thinking to include me in this conversation. Your work is, a project that I've followed for quite a while. I think I was initially introduced to your work, I'm guessing it may have been through the Richard Powell book initially, that you were included. Which was a book that was kind of an anthology of contemporary black artists. Or of the history of black art and artists. And I remember coming across your work in one of the, I think it may have been the second or third. Maybe, maybe it was the first edition? Honestly, I'm not exactly sure. But I remember looking at it. And it just really was a revelation for me. Because it didn't have a didactic tendency. It was really quite open in the opportunity to interpret it. And not dissimilar from a little bit of what you're saying about my project. I couldn't exactly figure out what God had served. And for me that was really quite special. Because I was so invested and so interested in trying to kind of, not necessarily push the boundaries or expand language. But trying to include all of the things that were interesting to me at that time. And some of those things were conceptual history, philosophy. And then, you know, personal history. Or, kind of, a auto theory, of sorts. And so as I talked to more people about your project, my professors, guys like McArthur Binion, who I was studying with at Columbia College at the time. He would say, oh, you know, Charles has got this whole thing figured out. He's a genius. He's teaching over at Cal Arts. And I started doing research. I thought that I should go study with you at Cal Arts. I was like, I gotta go study with that guy at Cal Arts. Because at the time you were so well recognized as a, a voice in academic circles. And your thinking and the influence that you had on so many students was so profound. And so significant. That I was like, I want to be a part of that group that's kind of had the experience with this guy who has this vision that captures so much of what I was interested in. And so, we're also lucky to share a great friend in Terry Adkins. Someone who, it was incredibly rewarding for me to have had a relationship with. Terry gave me probably what is the best advice I've ever received. And it's, whenever I say this, it sounds more and more simple every time it comes outta my mouth. But I was working on a show, my first New York solo show at Nicole Klagsbrun Gallery. And this had to be 2007. I believe it was around 2007, 2008. And Terry came to my studio and he said to me, um, what are you gonna do for the show? And I told him, I wasn't exactly positive yet. But he looked at me in the eyes, he said, well, you should do the unexpected. And it was so profound for me to even think about the idea of doing something outside of the expectations that I hope I have spent the rest of my practicing life as an artist trying to meet those expectations. So, it's great to be here with you. It's great to have this conversation. And there's a lot that I want to know.

Charles Gaines:

Well, th that's, it's very kind of you. And yeah, Terry was, um, you, you didn't have to push him too hard to get an opinion from Terry.

Rashid Johnson:

You didn't. Terry would praise the same person that he gave hell to two minutes later, kind of thing. He was, uh...

Charles Gaines:

Oh, yeah. Oh yeah. Yeah. I mean, it is so, I mean, we used to sit down and have these discussions. And, and sometimes disagreements. But often agreements on various artists practices. I mean, mostly interested in the work of African-American artists. And I come out of a time when there were a lot of African-American artists. But very few of them getting exhibitions. The general opinion out there, even at the time, that there weren't many African-American artists. But of course there were. They were just not getting recognition. And so, I come outta that period. And so did Terry. I mean Terry is younger than I was. Than I am. But he overlapped that period. And in many ways, was a victim of that period. Terry was doing a kind of practice that dealt with content in a way that a lot of critics and art writers thought was too cultural.

Rashid Johnson:

Or really culturally specific.

Charles Gaines:

Yeah, exactly. Which is a complicated position to take. Especially when we've all, for the most part, been educated in a, in a very specific system that prioritizes certain western concepts and philosophy and thinking and certain histories. So Terry's like, rigorous investigation of histories that weren't necessarily prioritizing Western themes, I think were frustrating for some critics because they were unfamiliar with the folks to whom he was having these ambitious dialogues.

Rashid Johnson:

And I think that that is a really interesting aspect of his project, right? And of both yours and mine, to be honest in a lot of ways. Is that we, you know, often make reference to certain historical figures that don't necessarily have a long legacy of being taught in art schools necessarily. Maybe some of that's changing. And you're in a interesting position to speak to that because of all your years of teaching. But yeah, it was definitely somewhat of a handicap for artists like Terry, I feel like.

Charles Gaines:

Yeah, exactly. I mean it, especially the work, the foreground of historical figures. And it's an interesting thing about that in terms of, uh, for example, the general notion of the way history is written. The attempt at circumscribing the way history is written. Like the Governor of Florida is trying to do right now.

Rashid Johnson:

Bizarre. I'll tell you.

Charles Gaines:

That, you know, certain contents are not considered historical. And he was dealing with those contents, as you were saying. And I think that that really was the difference why early in his career, he wasn't getting brought at attention. Because as soon as people started relaxing about that. Or let's say that the terms of content expanded. And people didn't get exercised by the fact that we're dealing with these specific histories. Terry's works just started zooming forward. I mean, he started getting, it was always there, right? But it's just that there was this kind of release from this kind of editing of content that was Eurocentric. And a prescription about what constitutes historical knowledge and what doesn't.

Rashid Johnson:

Absolutely. Well, there was this kind of criteria shifted, and it seems like we're in this moment where you're seeing this criteria shift. Some of it is quite positive. I think in other ways it's, maybe I'm almost suspicious of it. Like, like there's some sort of trap on the other end.

Charles Gaines:

Mm-hmm.

Rashid Johnson:

And so I'm kind of like walking through these woods with, what my father would say, my head on a swivel.

Charles Gaines:

Yeah. What you said there's important. Because I'm in the same place. So, as African-American artists, we, it's almost like the Du Bois thing. You know, the two consciousnesses. One has to do with just our investment in art. And certain ideas that whatever, whatever their sources are or were, there is this notion that is represented really, what Terry offered you as an advice. You know, do something unexpected. So, that's something that I'm looking for, too. There is no idea of race or identity around the general interest in the unexpected.

Rashid Johnson:

Agreed.

Charles Gaines:

Right. And then at the same time, the way we engage culture is informed by our social position. And the, or black artists. And, and we got, you know, I got this like overburdened history of experiences of exclusion and separation. And not being paid attention to, and so forth. And that's very specific to our experience. And acknowledging that experience in our practice. And at the same time, not being limited by it. So, I mean, that's a huge burden. I mean...

Rashid Johnson:

Huge.

Charles Gaines:

I mean, it's a gift. But, well, it may be a gift. Because, I mean, I think that, in a way that artists of color have to deal with it, that white artists don't have to deal with that binary.

Rashid Johnson:

Yeah, there's real fertility there. And maybe the fertility is in not solving the problem. But asking why the problem is there. That's kind of, in some ways, one of the more interesting aspects. I, I've got a question for you. But before I even ask that, there's a book that I want to recommend to you if you haven't had an opportunity to read it. Because I think it's super, super interesting in speaking to the question that you pose. But it's a book by a writer named Kevin Quashie. And it's called The Sovereignty of Quiet. And it talks about the expectation for ambitious activism in the form of black people in America. This idea that we live very kind of public lives. And that, there's this understanding of our publicness. And that our publicness is oftentimes presented through struggle. Through activism. Through amplification. And through the expectations for these kind of public resistances.

Charles Gaines:

Mm-hmm.

Rashid Johnson:

And the question that he poses is, where and how then do we find space for quiet? Where do we find sovereignty? Where do we find autonomy? Like, how do you become an individual when your social capital is all expended and spent on the kind of public facing presentation of presenting yourself as an equal kind of contributor. And so, like I've had this real interest in this idea of quiet. And, and he also makes a real specific designation between this idea of quiet and silence. And so, this idea that, quiet is not silence. It's like what does a whisper look like? And to your project, and Terry's, and I hope mine following in some of the footsteps of what and how you guys have so effectively navigated these spaces. Your kind of ability to quietly diagnose and organize your thinking in your project without necessarily having this didactic or single-minded expectation, or presentation, is what and how I think this Quashie book is best illustrated in its relationship to the arts. And that, that's for me so interesting. And sorry to compound this with a question. But I have a question for you that I asked Lawrence Weiner. And I think it's really interesting. And I think quite important that I ask you this same question, right? That you have this other kind of, another titan of conceptual concern and critical concern. That I would ask who is, is a white artist, and that I would ask a black artist this same question. Is to me, I think really quite prescient to what we're talking about. But I asked him, and got an answer that I didn't expect. I asked him, what role does poetry play in your project. Or the idea of the poetic?

Charles Gaines:

That's an interesting question. I, after I undertake a miserable attempt at answering it, I wanna reflect back on why you asked it. Or perhaps you can reflect on why you asked it. The idea of poetry is core to me. The way that I look at my own practice and relationship to conceptualism. But, the way that I look at what makes it different from the first generation Conceptualists, which Lawrence was one of them. Was that I was interested in representation. And Lawrence is an exception to this. Cuz Lawrence teeter-tottered, I think intentionally, he was ambivalent about that whole idea of poetry.

Rashid Johnson:

He was, uh, that's, that is exactly how he responded. Was with ambivalence.

Charles Gaines:

Oh. Oh, that's interesting. But when I look at the rest of that, and I call it a movement, you know. Like, history's tried to erase conceptual art. But obviously I have great respect for that movement. My difference was that they were interested in unpacking European modernist tenants and issues of expression and aesthetics. And because they thought that they wanted to try to break art down to it's essential. What is art? So, uh, not the question of what does art mean? And so, I think that their practice was empirically based. Which means that representations was suspect. Because representation meant that the, the cultural and social experiences of the audience member has to be considered as part of the practice. And that's where they thought it was problematic. Because it obscured the idea of art. And so, most of the work was, I think, used certain kind of, sort of analytical strategies. So, the way I, I thought about my work was that I was interested in representation. Which meant that I thought, and this is, might be contradictory. But I thought that, I was interested in this unpacking of representation in the same way that they were interested in this general unpacking of art and ideological construct, right? So, so I was interested in unpacking representation. And because of that, I had to include representation. So, breaking the idea of representation down, representation is a property of language. And therefore employs both the syntagmatic and paradigmatic aspects of language. And part of that, particularly with the paradigmatic, part of that is poetry.

Rashid Johnson:

Mm-hmm.

Charles Gaines:

I mean, for me it was about unpacking representation by analyzing metaphors. Or no, even more than metaphors. The difference between the literal and the interpretational or the, or the metaphorical as a interpretation of a sign that's different from looking at something literally for what it is. And so for me, it was core. And if I can factor that in terms of what we were just talking about, in terms of quiet. One of the things that happened was that, when I was investigating representation, nobody knew that's what I was investigating. Because they saw my sort of analytical approach to objects as a kind of continued investment in literal representation.

Rashid Johnson:

Mm-hmm.

Charles Gaines:

Or the idea of the literal or the empirical, the role of the empirical in our practice. But my interest was in the areas of, it's not what objects were. But what objects meant. And how we come to form these meanings. So when inevitably, the discussion of my work started to collect around certain, I just that, the first generation that was problematic that it nets the affect and aesthetics and so forth. Since the work expressed, I hate the word expressed. But since the work was engaged in those kinds of affective experience, inevitably they would've to be dealt with. So therefore, my work's interest in, for example, visuality and, and beauty was never seen as a problem. And that, it sort of excluded discussion of those things. In other words, their, the presupposition that you can't actually deal analytically with the issue of feelings. The belief in that excluded that property or made that property suspect in the work of art. So, the very thing I was investigating, made it suspect in terms of the general conceptual paradigm.

Rashid Johnson:

Now, that's super interesting. And even quite specifically, there's this kind of sense of the, almost an essentialist trap, right? Or how we come to this idea of what the expectations are for materials, for language. But specifically in your project, I'm interested in cultural symbiotics. So, we're saying that we understand what materials are. And what the driving forces are for materials. But there's this kind of lost opportunity when we speak to certain kinds of materials. And I mean, this kind of goes into some of what my project attempts to do, as well. But this idea that a material in one person's hands has a different role then a material in another person's hands. I mean, to even bring it back to Weiner for instance. He wrote a book in the early two thousands, I think, called Something to Put Something On. Which is like this investigation of semiotics, in a way. And which ways we frame language to identify objects. One character at the beginning of the book says to another, I have something for you. And the second character says it's on, where do you want me to put it? He says, put it on the table. And he says, what is a table? And so, we understand the idea of what a table is from different perspectives, right? And in your project, does culture or kind of a cultural understanding play a role in how you define a material or a surface? Are those kind of essential to your understanding of how those materials function? Is there some sort of kind of collective? Or are we to assume that the idea of the human being is like, an essentialist position?

Charles Gaines:

Uh, that's, uh, again, another tough question. The, if I can talk about materials in terms of what they produce in us. And let's say that, uh, that on one level we have a physical response to materials. And the term is very abstract because it's, it, it really is, um, a general investment in the question about what constitutes the properties of things.

Rashid Johnson:

Right.

Charles Gaines:

And so what we're trying to separate things from their properties. And in discussion of materials, it's hard to make that separation. Because the, what the thing is, has a lot to do with how we experience this properties. And so, I guess this might be a quiet place, that you're talking about using the word quiet for me. Because both my interest in analytical strategies, uh, and my interest in affect considered together represents a certain contradiction. At least there's a contradiction in the way that we've become to understand how that works in art. And I don't think that contradiction's ever totally resolved. But I dealt with it by thinking that there's something that happened to me, both as an individual and as a cultural being that made that contradiction important. And it became my first argument when I was asked the question, why isn't what you're doing white art? He's an artist doing rational systems in the seventies. You know, why isn't that white art? The first answer, and I think sustains itself is, that my interest in it was a property of my experience. Then I have to talk about that experience. That somehow there's this coming together between certain tendencies and capacities in me that just showed up as my response of being a black person. Or how being black ultimately becomes played out in me. The thing that made me sort of individual in this question was the very thing that what I was doing was not white art. I mean, it goes back to what, what you were saying. The different materials are handled differently by different people. Or, you know, what is the table is different to person A from different B. And okay, so maybe I'm dealing with tables. But what constitutes a table is different for me than let's, let's say another conceptualist. Because my individuality. And that has a lot to do with being black. And so, and essentially a white artist couldn't do what I was doing.

Rashid Johnson:

It's interesting in that it becomes even more granular than that. In that the question can be asked like, what does this material potentially mean to a black person, right? As a general kind of question. And then the question of, what does this material mean to Charles Gaines, the individual, right? So...

Charles Gaines:

That's very good.

Rashid Johnson:

We need to kind of separate those two spaces, as well. It's, kind of, what and how Du Bois's concept of multiplicity, right? Should be maybe even, in contemporary terms, thought of like a polled space more so than a dual space, right? Because it's kind of like, well, what does this mean to me as a male? What does this mean to me as an individual? What does this mean to me as part of a collective? What does this mean to me as myself within a sexual kind of narrative? And so, it's like all of these kind of granular and like really individual spaces. And to something that you've worked on recently is super interesting in this conversation for me. And that you have employed this idea of chains in a more recent body of work that you did with creative time. So, what do chains mean in the history of America as an American artist? What do chains mean as a black person, right? And how do we interpret them that way? What do chains mean to Charles Gaines? So, this idea that this material are, just take it out of the chains. Are they made of iron? What does iron mean? What does iron ore have to do with any, like, so this idea of like, kind of, unpacking materials in the way that you have is wild and so open and so fertile. So, that's like, uh, I'd love that we're getting to talk about this.

Charles Gaines:

Yeah. Which, uh, really raises the question that I wanted to ask you. And then that's essentially about the significance and importance of materials. Because there is a, the critical or the interpretation language of her work is multivalent. And you exploit, in the best sense of the term, that extraordinarily well. And I, I wanted to find out, how did you begin to see things that way? It could go back to my, to the question you were asking about the relationship of your view of things or what informed your view of art makings to your experiences, cultural experiences as a black person. So, it's wondering how that developed. Because I mean, equality, the multivalent quality of your work is clear. And as I told you at the beginning when I first discovered your work, I could feel and I can see that. But I didn't understand it very much at the time.

Rashid Johnson:

Yeah, no, it's, it's really interesting. My relationship to my blackness has always been one where I see its multiplicity. And I had a Nigerian stepfather and had a Nigerian family that was really present in my life, in a lot of ways. And then I had my father's family, which was a family originally from around the Memphis, Tennessee area that then migrated to Ohio. I had my mother's family, which was an Afro-Cuban family that went to Florida that then migrated to Ohio. So, I had all these different perspectives, right? One that was more of an immigrant sensibility. One that was, kind of like, you know what? Don't center these European concepts. Just employ the opportunity, right? In the form of my Nigerian family, there was the kind of more historical aspect of the tradition of slavery and the obstacles that it inherently presented that was born of my father's side of the family. The frustrations and the recognition of the lack of opportunities. In particular, the opportunity to acquire land and build wealth and provide your family with resources. So, I had that perspective. I had my mother's side of the family, which were lighter complected folks who had all this incredible education, right? So they had had certain kind of privileges and opportunities that were born of, in some ways, their complexion. And other ways, their education. Or, you know, as kind of a combination of all of those things. So, when I started thinking about materials to use, I thought about their relationship to my actual experience. Like the actuality of my experience. So, my mother was an African history professor, as well. So, when I came across shea butter, I thought, what does this mean to me, right? Part of it was this incredible history of African materials and their influence on our cultural identities and contemporary terms. And other bits of it were this representation of black urbanity because they would sell shea butter on the street, right? So it was like, just real negroness, right? And this kind of concern with moisturization and cleansing and the opportunity to kind of connect ourselves to an Africanness, right? This kind of lost soul. This like identity forming tools. I did similar things with black soap, in that respect. I thought of the shit as funny in some ways, right? You know, I thought of it as absurd, in other ways. And so not ever kind of containing my idea of identity in a singular kind of form has been the thing that I think has allowed my project to explore, ideally in bold ways, like what it is that people expect of me. And a lot of that is born of seeing your project really. And the project of David Hammonds. And the work of Terry Adkins. And even before that, the work of artists like Norman Lewis and, and Ed Clark. It's not new in any way, what I do. And I don't pretend that it is. And I'm not even interested in it being new, you know? It's an amalgamation of what the people before me had organized. And an advancement, ideally, of that conversation. I think that that's all we can really do. Is like, kind of put together the groupings of things and influences and ideas. You know, I weaponized Western themes, right? White Western themes. And not from a position of antagonism. I love a lot of that work, right? I am as much from those artists, right? Whether you're including the modernists to the minimalists, right?

Charles Gaines:

Mm-hmm.

Rashid Johnson:

If anybody would define themselves in any of those categories. I don't know. But that's how we've kind of come to do it. I think about Sol LeWitt. Not from a position of antagonism or frustration, our disappointment. But from a position of exploration and identifying. Like, we were raised and educated in this system. And I'm interested in that system. I'm interested in my relationship to it. I color those systems, inherently. But I'm born of them. And I find myself to be a protagonist in it, not an antagonist.

Charles Gaines:

Uh, very good. One thing, uh, that you've done, and you might be a little too humble about this. But you are one of the leading young artists to open up the vocabulary of expression for artists. Particularly artists of color. That you expanded the language of expression that probably you convinced an audience that talking about this more expanded view of, of making, doesn't negate uh, what you ever, you, you might define your experience as a black person being raised in America. I mean, it, uh, I, so, so, I remember a moment when the language of black artists should express, was quite narrow,

Rashid Johnson:

Even made narrow by some other black folks expectations...

Charles Gaines:

Yeah, no, I mean...

Rashid Johnson:

...to be completely honest.

Charles Gaines:

Because, uh, I was, accused of making white art by not white people, you know, by, by black people. I mean the, the, uh...

Rashid Johnson:

Yep.

Charles Gaines:

I've been, I've been told, I have to say, this is unbelievable, because I, I, I just don't, it's not that I don't believe it. But I can't accept it. That the consequence of, um, at a certain point people stop asking me, is that white art that that black artist is making? When that question stopped, there was the moment that my work served the purpose of giving permission for a wider exploration outside of these received ideas of identity. I only say that because it, it advances what we're talking about. Not that I think that I, I actually had that kind of a, a, the work had that kind of influence.

Rashid Johnson:

Oh, it, it absolutely did. I think it's a, your project is incredibly pioneering in, in that respect. I had a conversation with someone that long ago that was, um, kind of talking about how even people whom I celebrate, like Amiri Baraka, was so concerned with the projects of black artists who he think didn't necessarily push forward or advance, uh, black nationalist agenda. And the danger of producing art whose ambition it is, is to be propagandistic. And that propaganda can come in any form, right? Like, if an artist's ambition is to advance a collective concern, I think it's really dangerous. You know, I just think it's really a dangerous place. And, and it's one that leads to work that doesn't envision or produce dichotomies our contradictions that advance the concerns that critically art is allowed to explore?

Charles Gaines:

Yeah, I mean, I always argued that the purpose of art is not to provide a means for the expression of a subjectivity, because that always had problems with the definition of subjectivity that was used in that expression. That is that some notion of universal subject. The art gives you the opportunity to express ourselves. Therefore puts ourselves outside of social and cultural context. When in actuality, the definition of subjectivity was itself a social and cultural construct. But I do think that, and this is going back to teeter tottering on the issue of recognizing our cultural space. And also looking beyond it. I do think that art has to push us to find the limits of our understanding. Whatever that understanding is. That art gives an opportunity to push those limits. And you have to do that. So, the idea of making art as a prescriptive strategy or something. Where it, uh, addresses a, a perceived or understandable ideological concern. I think does damage to the self. I don't know what it does to society. We can talk about that. But it certainly does damage to the self. And boxes and traps who we think we are. So, that's the charge. I mean, it's to, first of all, you know, as difficult as it is, locate, find those limits and try to move beyond them. And that's the opportunity that making art provides us. I, I think, and if we constrain ourselves, then we're doing that to ourselves. In any discipline, I think you have to push limits. But some disciplines are institutional. And so, the idea of limits is you have to deal with that. But there's nothing, sort of, fundamentally and ultimately institutional about the idea of making art. It's, there's an institutional structure in art. But there's nothing institutional about the idea of making art. So, if we put limits on that, then we're doing that to ourselves. Nobody's doing that to us. If there's a battle, I think that I was undertaking in my life, it's really that. That the question of pushing this ideas of what, in my, in my case, is being obsessively intellectual. You know, that, I was accused of that a lot.

Rashid Johnson:

Did you feel like the suggestion that the intellectualizing of your project was like, akin to aspiring to whiteness?

Charles Gaines:

Oh yeah. No, no. That was, uh, sort of the bottom line of that accusation, right?

Rashid Johnson:

Right.

Charles Gaines:

But my interest in intellectual practices is something that, I don't know where that came from. Often it's in, it is been published that somehow, when I was five years old and I discovered the Jim Crow laws in the Jim Crow South, I sat in the chair with a pipe and started analyzing it. So I don't, I don't think I did that. But, but the issue is that somehow it's something that interests me and it's a strategy that pushes me to my limits. And it's not for everybody, right? I mean, it's just for me. So to, to that degree, I couldn't help but to push that. It's the sixties, seventies aren't, I mean, it was really a, a kind of a wonderful moment. Because very important works were made. But holy smokes. That was a really, I mean, intolerant period. I mean, look, really, I mean this...

Rashid Johnson:

There was, this seems that there were very specific expectations.

Charles Gaines:

Very specific expectations.

Rashid Johnson:

If you didn't capture those expectations, there was a lot of frustration. I mean, I've heard this from Sam Gilliam before he passed. I've heard this from other artists where there's just this, and I think it's so interesting how oftentimes these histories and these obstacles aren't so explored, right? That there were these like, real difficult moments to push through and to make the kind of work that artists like you we're making. And even artists who come before you. Like abstract painters like Gilliam and Norman Lewis, they face similar accusations, I think.

Charles Gaines:

Yes.

Rashid Johnson:

That they weren't pushing forward the agenda of black people. And so there's almost this question of the quality of their blackness. Since they weren't forefronting a black nationalist concern because they were speaking quietly and not effectively amplified with a easily definable criteria and agenda. And that the criticism was not coming from a white audience, in this respect it's coming from an interior space. Like the call, as they say in horror films, is coming from inside the house, right? And so, it's like, I'm not sure people who don't have these kinds of experiences can fully appreciate how difficult and how emotionally challenging it is when people call to question the quality of what it is you know you are, right?

Charles Gaines:

Mm-hmm.

Rashid Johnson:

They actually question, I mean, it's, it's an incredible game of what, what do the, the kids call it these days when, when you're gaslighting, right? And someone says, uh oh, you're not black. And you're like, no, I am definitely black. There are very few questions about that reality. I am equally subject to institutional kind of obstacles that are born of this experience. And yet somehow someone is challenging from within my own group that reality.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

It's a particular kind of traumatizing for somebody who looks like you to question your experiences being similar to theirs.

Rashid Johnson:

It is, it's an incredible trauma. And it's part and parcel with how we need to be discussing. The quality and the complexity and the density of what it is black artists face as far as obstacles. Because I think more often than not, we imagine that the obstacles are exclusively these white, Western strategic patterns, systems, institutions, et cetera. But they're more. It's more complicated than that. And it's not to suggest black people are producing obstacles for black people. And that we need to change the condition and or, but it is just, it is the complexity of the condition of being subject to, you know, expectations that forms these challenges. And that makes even more rewarding when we see people who are able to buck those concerns and make something that lives outside of the restraint.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

I'm gonna not deviate from this conversation entirely. But bring it back a little bit to the work. Cause I think the word constraint keeps coming up. And it also, like, I was thinking about this before. So I've been thinking a lot about, one, I love the conversation about materials. I love materials, I love material investigation. It's one of the things that really drives my own making and interest in art. But I was also thinking about the use of the grid in both of your work. And Rashid, I'm thinking about the structures and the sort of 3D grid with the materials living within the structure. It's, you know, abundantly obvious, the grid in your work, Charles. And sort of the image sort of disappearing into a grid of colors. The question, I guess, and maybe I'll give a little bit more context around it, but the question is the grid confining or expanding? And I feel like in me writing out down that question, hearing the conversation, I automatically had this answer for myself of the grid providing an opportunity for expansion, particularly for artists coming out of the black identity and like the thinking about like, my experience of the grid in artwork going through school, you know, the art historical survey. You're looking at like a Sol LeWitty. You're looking at a certain neutral, and I say neutral almost like in quotes, but like, a certain kind of like, distilling out of identity into something that's supposed to be, you know, I know Charles, you talk a lot about like subjectivity and, you know, without subjectivity. So, I'm curious about the grid and how it functions for you in this conversation about constraints and expansiveness and, and what you do and what you make.

Charles Gaines:

You wanna take that first?

Rashid Johnson:

Sure, sure. Now the grid is, it really is quite essential to my project and it's essential for a couple of different reasons. One, I'm not even sure, I believe all of the reasons. I would preface it that way. One thing that I think is interesting about the grid, or, or what it even attempts to do, is that it kind of creates almost a, a democracy in some respect. When you have a grid that's kind of appropriately organized. That every section of it occupies a certain amount of space, giving each section of it, it's own autonomy in its own sense of being equal to all of the other parts. Whether there's any truth to that because of how kind of grids and forms get occupied and, and then organized, I'm not sure, but it's definitely a thought in my mind when I think about the grid and how that structure functions and, and my interest in it. The other is actually far more practical, to be honest. My mother was an academic. We had lined paper in the house. I mean, we just, there weren't like a lot of drawing materials in my house. Things were like kind of quite organized and systematic. And so when I learned to draw, I learned to draw on lined and gridded paper. And so I still use it as an organizing principle. I don't like blank space. I don't like attack blank space. I, I'm not that version of creative. Whatever it is that forces people to approach a blank canvas, which I think is, kind of, a metaphor that is mostly untrue of artist practices. I mean, we usually are kind of conditioned and informed by several things before we approach a surface. But one of the things that I'm informed by in a really significant way when I approach the surfaces is the grid.

Charles Gaines:

Yeah. So many thoughts come to, uh, with that question. I mean, I guess the first thing is, in fact, it has to do with the implication of the question of the uniqueness of the grid as a compositional organiz, the organizational factor. And, well, first of all, it is one of the ways we cognitively organize the space around us. For various reasons. It could be intellectual organizations or visual spatial organization. But the grid is one of the ways. And I think that we singularize it, like for around conceptual art. Because it's a way of holding onto the idea. It's an object or it's a representation, or whatever you call it, that informs a certain kind of idea of art. That, uh, particular moment in the history of art. That object manifests itself and it represents so many things, like intellectually organizational. It, it represents a, a lot of those things. Whereas before that, it didn't have a role. But the fact is that the grid is the oldest system of organization in the history of culture. And even before the invention of mathematics. Or you could even say that it is one of the earliest manifestations of mathematics. It was, uh, used such a long time ago. An organization of calendars. The visual organization of calendars. And so there are two kinds of organizations that we, spatial and conceptual organizations, that we kind of understand. And one is, you know, what you may call an analog system. Whereas, uh, uh, we don't think of that as a grid. We're looking at the organic shape. And we don't think of that as a grid. And so it, things, uh, are organized organically or they're organized structurally, which is the grid. Well, well, both systems of organization started at the moment that somebody made a mark. And so with me, uh, and it's more to do or, let's say, uh, discovered the idea of using the grid from my investigations into tantric art. So, it comes not out of mathematics. It comes out of a, an older, well, mathematics is an old practice. But it comes out of another other kind of non Eurocentric practice. And it overlaps with mathematics. In other words, it just turns out that it employs the same tools and uses that mathematics provides. And the way that I, that I make work. It is really the organizational strategy that best allows me to. Investigate the relationship between what things are and what they mean. And how one becomes the other. Or it exposes it. It reveals the gap between them where the translation or the transition of one space from what they are to what they mean. It's a mystery. And I think this is why the, as a structural form, was important in the past and in other cultures. Because we, we have the lines of the grid. And we have the spaces in between the lines. And we don't know how one translates into the other. Because the line is also a space. And then the space on the other side of the line, there's a space. So where the hell are the lines? Or what is a line? What is a table? What is a line, you know? So the issue is, is that, because of the ambiguity built into that structure, you can actually engage a discursive conversation. Which is accompanied by a visual understanding of how in the world could I be looking at numbers and trees at the same time? Why does an aggregate of numbers become a tree? But it's not a tree. It's an aggregate of numbers. But we treat it as a tree. But if you think about the tree, it's really an aggregate of numbers. When is it a tree? All that stuff, you know? So, uh, it's, it's something that, in terms of my use of it, it goes in that direction. But it's important to think about also because it's part of a problem, of an idea of a very special way of looking at visual representation. When it is not. It is not circumscribed by the activities of a Judd or, or Sol, Sol LeWitt. Or even me, you know? Am I used to the grid? Or, it's not a manifestation of intellectual art. It transcends all of those sort of, uh, modernist narratives of history. Which puts it to station with expressive art. And it is not. Oh, let me shut up.

Rashid Johnson:

What, uh, it, it's, no, it's, it's super interesting. What role, cause you mentioned it, and it's something in your project that doesn't jump to mind, and so I was intrigued by it, does mark making play?

Charles Gaines:

Geez, it's crucial. I mean, how do you know this?

Rashid Johnson:

I'm trying to pay attention.

Charles Gaines:

I've often asked, you know, because of using visual strategies that can be mechanically produced, why I insist upon doing this stuff by hand. And, well, for example, the hand represents, it's a metaphor, it's a hand represents the indeterminable influence of cultural forces on any event. Or any thing. Or any thing that is acted upon.

Rashid Johnson:

So it's the idea of the black hand, or is it Charles Gaines' hand?

Charles Gaines:

Well, like we were saying before, it deals with this general idea of the hand. But the special idea that it's my hand. Or it's the hand that I've authorized. So it, it dances in those two spaces. It's part of that trying to negotiating those two spaces. And, to the degree that it droves the idea that a human being made this mark, it invites the entire possibility of human intervention in the mark. That it leaves a pathway to that participation of culture. So, I got this from a book that I was introduced to in, in graduate school called The Life of Forms in Art by Henri Focillon. And in the last chapter in the book, is titled And Praise of Hands. Uh, the, the book was Focillon's attempt to try to describe what art historians do. And part of that description is that he takes Art History's obligation, is to recreate the moment of the ob-, object under study. Not overlay that moment with things that are not essential to the actual moment. Now we know how elusive the actual moment is. But the art history is a complicated practice because of the difficulty of that effort. It's becomes easier if you set up a, a bunch of prescriptive descriptions of what things are and what they're supposed to be that may or may not have to do with that moment. But giving license and giving space to the elusiveness of the moment of that presence. So, the complicated moment that, Rashid, that you made a particular object, and then, uh, two weeks later you have the opportunity to reflect upon that moment. But that moment's removed. So the relationship between you and that moment is continuously mystical.

Rashid Johnson:

But then truth comes into play. Or the failure to understand the truth of that moment as we start to subscribe our prescriptions to that moment. Or try to embed other meanings into that moment. And then other histories start to occupy that moment. That's when it gets really quite complicated, I imagine.

Charles Gaines:

Yeah. That's the complication. And there is that, I mean, that's what it is. That's, it is what it is. In other words, you can't exist in that moment anymore. And you only have the language of reflection to think about that moment. It's not like there's a solution to this problem.

Rashid Johnson:

But the mark lives there, I guess, um, kind of permanently.

Charles Gaines:

The mark lives there.

Rashid Johnson:

Yeah, it lives there permanently. And the, and the idea, and this sorta has to do with the role of the hand. The idea is not to erase that moment. Not to erase that history. The difficulty of access has to be part of how you deal with it. And for the most part, we're talking about conditions like we're talking about, you know, the moment when you have to entertain that a working work of art is addressing a certain set of obligations. Then that moment is gone. If you're in a position of just being an example of something.

Charles Gaines:

Right.

Rashid Johnson:

So, does mechanical reproduction in any way continue to have space for that singular moment. Or is it completely lost once you have different kinds of mechanical intervention. Is that moment only traceable through the hand or is it traceable through the opportunity to press go? Is that a moment in it to its own?

Charles Gaines:

I mean I, I guess I continue to think about Benjamin and it's his analysis of the mechanical processes.

Rashid Johnson:

Yeah.

Charles Gaines:

And the way I interpret is that, in the way that it's, the reflection of that moment is in it, it's reproducibility.

Rashid Johnson:

So, then it becomes multiple moments that can be activated at different times. And singularity of the moment is no longer substantive.

Charles Gaines:

Yeah. You got it. I mean, that's the way it can and often is deployed. It doesn't substitute or doesn't deny the existence of this vague idea of a originating space trying to define the void that exists between the spaces of the grid.

Rashid Johnson:

It's interesting cuz I think of practices like Felix Gonzalez Torres, for instance. And I think of him as an artist without moments, right? And so then does that lead us into this opportunity to think about timelessness? There was no moment of creation, right? When the object has the opportunity to be created at any time. It's almost as if it becomes polytheistic at that point, right? Like, it has many gods who can kind of give it its structure. And so, I don't know, that's just something for me to think about. I love how you, you're thinking about the moment of creation. I didn't realize that that was essential to your project. And I love that it is.

Charles Gaines:

Yeah. But I just wanted to be sure it's, it's not the general received idea about what creation is. Or even the idea that there's such a moment. I don't think there is such a moment. That moment exists in the face of the failure of our inability to imagine such a moment.

Rashid Johnson:

Absolutely.

Charles Gaines:

You see, so it's a product rather than a thing. And to that degree, I think that the idea of multiplicity, like a, as a kind of reproduction, what it addresses is that the problem that, uh, recognizes that this older idea of the moment of creation, is a failed idea. I mean, I think what he's saying is, is that.

Rashid Johnson:

Right.

Charles Gaines:

And I also agree with Benjamin that it's a failed idea. And the idea of the multiplicity reinforces this notion that such a moment is a fiction. But a necessary fiction.

Rashid Johnson:

Right. It feels like what Benjamin is even suggesting, I'm not sure it's so much suggested in the text. But I think it's in the subtext. Is that the artists can potentially be freed from the expectations for certain kinds of representation. Of certain kinds of belief structures by the fact that these mechanical reproductions can exist, right? So, what's born of it and what becomes a reality is in a lot of ways abstraction. And existential exploration. And the artist as the individual unmolested by and informed by the expectation to be the documentarian of a specific kind of history.

Charles Gaines:

Uh, you think you're right. I think, I think that that's what Benjamin was, uh, putting into place. And I think, specifically in response to, the received ideas about how we regard a works of art. You know, that is somehow reliant upon the expressive artist. And the kind of temporality that's produced from that moment of expression that plays out over time. That was somehow we're obligated to. Uh, I think it was addressing that. What I was talking about is the way I read him.

Rashid Johnson:

Mm-hmm.

Charles Gaines:

And instead of that, I mean, I, I joined him on that critique of the Enlightenment's notion of time and temporality and originality. But what I make in the argument is that, the way I think the critique works, is by bringing up the idea of that moment as a fiction. And when I called it a necessary fiction. What I'm saying is that Benjamin's critique of the enlightenment requires a belief in the binary that allows him to see his side of the story. So, he has to believe in that binary in order to occupy one side of it. And I, uh, that is, that there is this moment of creation. And then the mechanical reproduction says that moment, is constantly reproducible.

Rashid Johnson:

Right. And so the artist as the genius, right, then kind of takes what feels like a fatal hit in that respect.

Charles Gaines:

Total. Total. And, you know, and, and my reading of it was, and I celebrated that. I mean, but what I found was rather than an alternate ideological perspective on making, what I found was a new definition of that moment. And for me then it reinforces the idea that, going back to the same thing, that in actuality that, it's a fiction. But when I say a necessary fiction, it's, it's like the way immanuel Kant argued what's required for the experience of, uh, taste judgments. That, in order for one to think about how taste judgments are made, when the art object that you're judging is supposed to be a universal object. And taste judgments are local.

Rashid Johnson:

Right.

Charles Gaines:

The way he tries to handle that argument is by saying, you know, we have to create the fiction of the subject. And that the person who's experiencing that subject is actually a fictional structure. And then we can apply all of the cognitive processes that we use in rational understanding to test judgments. If we create that fictional subject. And that's the way I'm look, I look at what ultimately Benjamin did is that he created the moment. The originating moment. He's saying, yeah, no, it really doesn't exist. It's a fiction. And to recognize it as a fiction is to recognize it as. Uh, space that will never be available to us. Never be available to our imagination. But we have the choice of ignoring that or choice of trying to engage it. Trying to have that indeterminacy of constant reflection in anything that we do.

Rashid Johnson:

This makes a lot of space for psycho analytics. In particular, Freud and The Uncanny.

Charles Gaines:

But I do have a question I'd like to ask you, Rashid, about, you know, like, three quarters of my productions about plants. I wanted to know more about his reflection. Uh, the use of plants and, and the role of that plants play in your life. And the fact that you've located these plants in a various sort of three dimensional grids. I'd like to, to hear your thoughts about what you have to say about that.

Rashid Johnson:

Yeah, no, of course. I mean, plants play a huge role in my project. And I approached them from multiple angles. One being. again, kind of autobiographical. In that, my mother had them all over the house. And they were this thing that she really paid so much attention to. And again, at the risk of taking a Freudian position, you know, you see your mother loving something and you're like, how do I kind of employ that thing? Or how do I become that thing, right? To some degree, how do I make that thing part of my life? But I, I really have thought of them as an interesting vehicle in my project. Especially, kind of, coming across the way that people interact with them when I use them. And the role that they play in producing and empathy in space. It feels as if everyone loves plants. Almost more than they love other human beings sometimes. It's, um, when I've exhibited my work with grids that include plants throughout the structures, people will come into the space. And oftentimes they'll demand, and I've said this a few times in the past, but they'll demand to know who's gonna be taking care of the plants. And oftentimes be quite forceful, sometimes. Frustrated in wanting to make sure that these things are being given every opportunity to succeed. I joke that they will step over a homeless person's body to come into the museum to which they confront this concern with plants. And, uh, what's really kind of born of it. And the thing that I've kind of learned after having made some of these works. And that wasn't predictive for me in any way. Was that, when empathy enters the room or enters space, its presence is incredibly valuable. And it affects everything that happens around, around that space. Meaning that, you have this empathy for the plants. This concern for their survival and their wellbeing. And then maybe once you bring that, that empathy or that sense of openness or that sense of concern. And its presence in you, allows you to receive other messages. Either from my work or from the other works that you potentially see in this space. In particular if it's a cultural institution. So, I just really like the power that they have to, kind of, promote this kind of empathetic investigation. Or this contract that is born of empathy entering the space. And what it does to the folks to whom have this experience. And you know, outside of that, there were things that I was looking at that really influenced it. Whether they were the fact that, in modern museums in the forties, fifties. I believe even into the sixties. Oftentimes, the curators would have plants, kind of, throughout the museum. And I, I was really kind of interested in how plants shared space. And how would they were curated into this space. The idea of domestic and domesticity. And institutional narrative. The idea of the familiar. The idea of living and care. With my question being like, how am I gonna take care of these? How am I gonna facilitate the growth of this thing? How does the object change and grow in relation to my giving it this obstacle, being the plant to, have to navigate? And that was really quite prescient for me in my thinking. Another kind of concern or thought that comes to mind when I think about the plants. Is oftentimes I'm gathering my plants from different spaces. And a lot of times they're not indigenous to the places that they occupy in the end. And I'll put a cactus next to, you know, a tropical plant. And I love this kind of Creole narrative that's born, right? These things that don't belong together, somehow occupying the same space. And the conversation that they are forced to have. Or that they wouldn't necessarily be able to have in some other kind of condition. In their natural condition. And then the question of like, what is indigenous? What's brought here? I mean, of course you spent the last 39 years in Los Angeles, California. And that's a place where we imagine the palm tree is got a real kind of born resonance. And it turns out, that's not true at all. That's a complete fiction, you know? The Palm tree was brought there. Not even that long ago, to be completely honest. And the role that plants play in storytelling. Like something like a poem, right? How and what that tells us about the quality. And the leisure. And the agency. And the opportunity. And we obviously are using plants as great signifiers of agency and of access. And so, the idea that these carry messages unto their own. And that I can kind of take and hijack those messages and put them together and organize them in ways that are unexpected. So it, it's really fertile ground. And it's something that I've only started to really touch upon. But something that I think is important to the way that I think

Charles Gaines:

The, the trigger was to position plants in a position of a work of art.

Rashid Johnson:

Yeah. You know, I remember looking at the work of Marcel Broodthaers. And when I looked at Broodthaers and, you know, of course he's this Belgian, poet, kind of, critical thinker, artist. And I remember thinking to myself, what the hell is this poet doing with these plants in this space? And trying to kind of unpack that for myself. And the potential there felt so rewarding. Also, the idea that there was this opacity. Something that could serve this incredible duality. Which is the familiarity of the domestic plant. We all know what these things are. These are not foreign to us. And the idea that putting them in an art object was in a lot of ways quite foreign to people. So that dichotomy, of like, the familiar. And the opaque. And the foreign. And being able to like, locate those things together. And what and how that forces you to, kind of, do certain, kinds of, gymnastics to understand, it was intriguing.

Charles Gaines:

Yeah. I mean, I, I, it was lost in me that the plants, it can be considered being found objects. A particular kind of object. But what you're doing is moving beyond the way that we have come to be able to read found object sculpture. Or, or...

Rashid Johnson:

Yeah. I, I actually in some ways reject the idea of foundness. But I really embrace the idea of searched for, you know?

Charles Gaines:

Mm-hmm.

Rashid Johnson:

That foundness is not reproducible, right? And that it speaks to, I guess to your earlier point, this idea of the singular moment, right? Of marking something and it's permanence. Or finding something in this, kind of, nostalgic, kind of, opportunity that, that makes us imagine. I'm less interested in that. I'm like, I searched for this object. I looked for this object. This object is employed with intention. It's not serendipitous. It is prescriptive. And it's specific. And it's employable. And it's foundational.

Charles Gaines:

Yeah. Totally fascinated by this series. Because it's, maybe your description of the, its complex, multivalence is the reason is so fascinating. That not only that it draws from these various histories. But it also draws from our experiences in complicated ways. That, you know, when you describe the fact that people ask you how they're gonna be taken care of. What it opens up for me is this whole range of responses and concerns. I never thought about before until this conversation, that actually manifests itself as moments of empathy.

Rashid Johnson:

Yeah.

Charles Gaines:

A way of drawing into the experience of a work of art, the sentiment of empathy. That's not drawn in on a way that requires a certain kind of, accepted narrative of understanding.

Rashid Johnson:

Mm-hmm.

Charles Gaines:

The, you know, some reason the plant just opens that up tremendously. And in that opening up, it produces this wide space of empathy. I mean, I, I'm wondering, if this is a response that, in other words, what people who will pass over a homeless person in favor of concern for who's gonna water the plant. Aside from the moral judgments about that, do you think that there is this extension of the sentiment to, uh, that people have when they're experiencing the work?

Rashid Johnson:

Yeah, I mean, to be honest, I'm not even positive. I have a specific moral judgment on that. I think it's just more that I recognize it within the condition of, of where the works have been exhibited. And just an awareness of the circumstances that are present in those conditions.

Charles Gaines:

Mm-hmm.

Rashid Johnson:

When people come in and express that empathy. Again, I've rarely been in an institution and seen someone come in and say, hey, there's someone outside suffering, right? And so it's not a judgment as much as it is a recognition.

Charles Gaines:

Yeah. Yeah.

Rashid Johnson:

And from there, I guess, you know, some interesting opportunities are born, right? And like I expressed, none of this came necessarily from, the antecedent, of course, are some of these other things that I'm talking about. Which is like the creolization. Or the plants coming from different conditions. Or the idea of searching for them. Or the experience of, kind of, putting an institution are the future home of the work in a position to have to navigate it, right? And in some ways it's almost ego driven to say, you know, my work needs to be watered. My work needs to be cared for. My work needs to be loved, you know? That in some ways there's a, uh, there may be some other questions that could be asked of me. Why do you make something that needs so much more after the fact, right? And so, those are things I, I haven't fully resolved for myself. But I guess, you know, the questions that I'll be able to continue to, to ask of myself as much as I'll field them from others.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

I really, one, I'm really happy that you did ask the plant question, Charles. Because anybody who knows me, Anjelic shaking your head, knows that it's very, plants are very central to my own thinking and my own work. So, it was actually a question I also had on deck. But because of time I was holding back. But I'm really happy to come to that point in the conversation. I also have questions about your own use of trees and specific trees, Charles. But we don't actually have time. As much as I wanna make this a two hour podcast, we really probably can't. But I would love to continue those conversations with you guys in different atmospheres. Because I think it's really, one interesting to see the different uses of plants and how these things function and the histories of plants have its own, you know, talking about the domestication of the house plan and the origin stories and all of these things. So rich. But, unfortunately, we are constrained by time. And I do wanna end with the question that brings us back to the context that we're gathered under. You are both National Academicians inducted into this almost 200 year old institution. And so, my question is what that means for you, each of you? Um, what this collective of artists and architects means or has potential for? Or, you know, historically, currently in the future, and like how you see yourself in this history?

Rashid Johnson:

I can answer and then let Charles take us out, if that feels good. I've often kind of thought of my own project as being something that only exists in its relationship to other artists. And it's something that I'm, I'm really rewarded by. Is that, my work lives within a structure that gives space for multiple voices. That it's not just a singular voice. And you really are only the company you keep sometimes, right? And context matters. So, whenever you have a a, an organization, regardless of its history, it's complicated or not, I feel validated by having people like Charles occupy membership in something that I'm a member of. You know, that matters to me. What is the, is it a Charlie Chaplin line? Uh, never be member of a club that would have me as a member. Um, I don't share that, I guess. Because it, it does for me bring a lot of reward to be amongst peers that I respect. And then also people who've had so much influence on my project. Like Charles and, and other folks who, who are members. So, for me it's, it's a fantastic kind of opportunity to just see how my project is getting a chance to, to share space with projects that I, that I've seen as being so important and so valuable. Uh, I don't know if I can add much more than that. Rashid's sentiments, uh, reflect to large part my own. Uh, that in a million years, our 40,000 lifetimes could ever imagine, as you're talking about the unimaginable, given this kind of honor. Because looking at the people who are members of the Academy and the history that represents, I just can't see myself as a member of that club. And even though, you know, somehow I've become a part of the Academy, I still find it hard to embrace. Because it's still, because it just sort of reflects the respect I have for the people. But also, I'm very grateful that in the world there's this way to articulate or express the significant work that artists do. You know, I'm so grateful that an singular organization is constructed for the purpose of recognizing the significance of artwork, sculpture, painting, architecture. There's that part of it, too. Where I feel very lucky to be included in within such a, a structure of recognition. And at the same time, and we're talking about contradictions today. I can't understand how it got happened that I became a part of it, but it is what it is.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

Well, I can attest to the deservedness of both of you to be a part of this collective. I'm so excited to be able to talk to you because of your participation in the National Academy of Design. And to add your narratives to this long history. And to get to facilitate a space for you guys to speak and, and speak on your own terms. So, I wanna express my sincere, sincere gratitude for taking the time to speak with us. To participate in this podcast. And can't wait to hopefully continue these conversations in other spaces and other times. Because there's so much here that really like, I, I can't wait to re-listen and, and share this with the, the rest of the world.

Charles Gaines:

Thank you.

Rashid Johnson:

Thanks for the platform. And Charles, thanks for asking me to speak with you.

Charles Gaines:

Thank you, Rashid. Uh, I'll give you a ring when I'm in New York.

Rashid Johnson:

Look forward to it. Thank you.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

Bye.

Rashid Johnson:

Bye, y'all.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

Yeah, so I mean, of course we had to end. And they start talking about the thing that like, anybody who knows me knows I wanna talk about plants. I could talk about plants all day long.

Anjelic Owens:

For eons. Eons.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

I mean, and like, they're two people who, in their practices, use plants so specifically and intentionally. And it's just, you know, we could have 10 more conversations with them.

Anjelic Owens:

A hundred percent. Like, it honestly was a masterclass. And a lecture. And like, a whole book and one. Such an informative episode.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

And I loved seeing how they kept connecting over similar reference points. And like, it was like a yes and kind of energy of like, just really diving into it. It's why it gets hard to stop that conversation. Because you're just like, building and building. And it just keeps getting more and more interesting.

Anjelic Owens:

Yeah. The last 20 to 30 minutes are always like the sweet parts. And it just keeps getting better.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

I know, I know. I mean, I'm sure many people out there like us would've been happy to listen to another hour. But that's just unfortunately not what we can do. So yeah, there are limitations on the podcast. But speaking of limitations, there're talk, I thought there was also this really interesting conversation about the limitations or expectations of creativity with black artists in the black community, specifically. Sort of like, looking at each other for how you're participating.

Anjelic Owens:

And I feel like we have both felt that just...

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

Totally.

Anjelic Owens:

...experience of the limitations and this unspoken spoken expectation on the type of work you're supposed to make as a black artist.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

Right, join the fight. And if your work isn't part of it, of the fight, then there's a dismissal in some, in some circles. In some people. And that's, it's hurtful when ultimately you want to build this larger community. And be supportive. And I think there are caveat. There's a lot of supportive people, you know?

Anjelic Owens:

Yeah.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

I know we both have like, our own really supportive communities that we've discover our own overlaps in our, our communities as well.

Anjelic Owens:

But it is definitely, I think, an internal battle that most black artists go through with navigating, expanding the language of how they express and make work. And then like, that tiny voice in the back of your head, like, is this black enough? Is this...

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

Mm-hmm.

Anjelic Owens:

...like going to resonate with my community? And...

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

Yeah.

Anjelic Owens:

It's definitely an ongoing journey.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

Yeah. That little voice probably comes from somebody externally. Who's actually whispering it...

Anjelic Owens:

Oh my goodness.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

You know?

Anjelic Owens:

A hundred percent. But I like that, in general, when they were talking about that struggle, like, Rashid had a lot of books that were influencing his...

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

Oh my goodness.

Anjelic Owens:

...thought process was...

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

We have a reading list, y'all. I mean, If it didn't feel like you were in school, we're gonna give you an assignment. We are gonna have all these books listed. But just to give you a few, we've got Black Art, A Cultural History by Richard Powell. The Sovereignty of Quiet by Kevin Quashie. Something to Put Something On by Lawrence Weiner. We're gonna have all these available for you on the website, of course. With images, um...

Anjelic Owens:

mm-hmm.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

Images from my studio visit with Charles in LA. So, get a little bit of insight into that. And yeah, we're excited for everybody to get to study with Charles Gaines and Rashid Johnson in this episode.

Anjelic Owens:

Yeah, it's like the non-classroom, classroom, it's what we have, I feel like.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

Totally. It's the education after school.

Anjelic Owens:

Oh. Ooh. I like that.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

Is that our new tagline for the podcast?

Anjelic Owens:

Oh, yes. Yes. We'll, we'll work on.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

It keeps going.

Anjelic Owens:

We'll, work on it.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

We're Lifetime learners. Lifetime learners.

Anjelic Owens:

Yes.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

And with that class, class is out.

Anjelic Owens:

And with that class. Oh my goodness.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

I don't even say this In the real classroom that I teach in.

Anjelic Owens:

Oh my goodness.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

How do I end class? I just say bye.

Anjelic Owens:

Oh, okay. That's good. Thank you so much for joining us. And we'll see you next time when we'll have two architects on the podcast. Don't forget to like, follow and subscribe to the podcast on your favorite streaming platform. We'd also love it if you took the time to leave us a review.

Adrienne Elise Tarver:

We are a 5 0 1 C 3 nonprofit organization dedicated to promoting art and architecture, and we rely on your support to make programs like this possible. To learn more and to donate, visit National Academy dot org. This conversation was recorded on February 27th, 2023. Exquisite Corpse is written and produced by Adrienne Elise Tarver and Anjelic Owens. And co-produced mixed and edited by Mike Clemow and Wade Strange at SeeThu Sound..

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