Australian contemporary artist Alex Seton talks about his biggest professional risk in an interview with the Asian Curator.
“The series forms a sculptural monument which acknowledges all the Australian soldiers who have lost their lives while serving in Afghanistan. After its creation, I wrote to the AWM team and invited them to see it. It was not intended as a public work, but it found a home in the public memorial as it created an unexpected intimacy which the subject matter needed.”
Alex Seton
Art interview
Please tell us a little about yourself, what brought you to the world of art and how did you start?
I came into the art world via art theory and history, growing up in the country in rural Australia. I became fascinated with the history of art history what we’ve created for each other. And I wanted to be an artist from a very early age and became equally obsessed with research and writing. Am continually taken by contemporary art and could have happily moved over into any aspect of the industry. Contemporary art is my temple. I love the idea that it is an ongoing cultural conversation of past, present and future – with recognisable links and lineage to people who lived long ago, yet speaks to us in the present.
What is the primary role of an artist? How do you describe yourself in the context of challenging people’s perspectives via your work and art?
I’m wholeheartedly in obeyance with Nina Simone’s declaration that art should reflect the times in which it is created. I have always been concerned with the relationships created between the artwork, the audience and the artist. When I was younger, I was infatuated with the work of British artist Liam Gillick. He created a series of directives and games that makes demands upon the audience and their interaction. I have also long been concerned with reflecting on the ethical challenges that we face today.
These two elements combine in my work to create artworks that act as a litmus test of an audience’s disposition; to force an act of empathy, or an ethical choice and sometimes even reveal their own prejudices. This is not to be rude to the audience but rather seeks to create an understanding that we all bring something to the table that colours how we see the world.
How do you deal with the conceptual difficulty and uncertainty of creating work?
Not going to lie, it can be quite stressful, but incredibly satisfying when I arrive at a creative solution. A lot of the pieces that I create are production-heavy and physically demanding. I find that I am more and more reluctant to give myself too much physical work. I tend to utilise a compelling object from the real world, a recognisable yet compelling form. So dealing with a problematic work often means releasing the error in my choices. I need to be willing to ‘kill my darling’. Or rather abandon the thing I’ve been holding onto in order to be free creatively again.
As to the uncertainty, I find it valuable to relook at the connective throughlines between works that I’ve already created. Looking back upon the work I’ve created, I reflect on what I could do better. Particularly around aspects or nuances of an idea that have not been given their full resolution. Nowadays, I am far more willing to revisit forms I have created a decade ago, that still retain unrealised power for whatever reason and work with them anew.
Let’s talk about your career, or if you prefer artistic journey. What were your biggest learning and hiccups along the way?
When starting out I think I was more concerned with technique. At the time my ability to resolve the many ideas I had was limited. I quickly found I had a natural affinity for carving and learned to work entirely within my means. This lesson was cemented by having someone from the Beijing Olympics Artistic committee come to my studio when I was much younger. I had been warned by the translator to only present my most ambitious project. The Representative took one look at my proposal to use an entire valley and said “too ambitious” and walked out! I worked steadily within my means for many years after that. I am now much more comfortable with designing ambitious ideas and finding the right supporters and production team to realise the project at scale.
What are you looking for when you look at other artists’ work? Which shows, performances and experiences have shaped your own creative process? Who are your maestros?
I love looking at other artists’ work. I find that it can be any number of things that I respond to, from their rigour, spirit or even their vulnerability… often the qualities that I myself sometimes wish I had more of in my own work. For instance, I love Christian Marclay’s The Clock. To know that it is possible to speak to the common experiences of humanity across time and space is hugely invigorating. Knowing that an artwork can make me feel deeply connected to someone who lived a hundred years ago is incredibly beautiful and moving.
How does your interaction with a curator, gallery or client evolve from the initial interface, to the working relationship?
It very much depends on the individual but I personally love working with a team. The recent experience that I had with the curator Gina Mobayed was a perfect example. It was wonderful to be challenged by someone I admire and respect who was generous enough to spend the time giving informed and genuine critical feedback early on. That way the work had a chance to evolve into the best version of what was possible with the challenges of the space and its context. Having the facilities and means to be ambitious really did drive us all to be very proud of the exhibition outcome.
I had been used to working alone for far too long. I have found the most rewarding exhibitions or projects have been created working with really great curators and teams. The earlier they are involved, the better the outcome. Life’s too short to work with people who don’t believe in the work. I’ve come to believe that a half-hearted yes is more damaging than a well-meant no in relation to representation, application and exhibition proposals.
In regards to the commissioning of works for public spaces, I have been hesitant to get involved in that space. It relies on very carefully crafted project parameters and a huge amount of trust between artist and team members – so much can go wrong! But when it’s done right, it can create the most spectacular outcomes.
Any mentor, curator or gallerist who deserves a special mention for furthering your journey? What is the best piece of advice you’ve received?
The current director of National Gallery of Australia, Nick Mitzevich gave me a chance to be in the 2014 Adelaide Biennial of Australian Art: Dark Heart. He has always encouraged me to think big and challenged me to make work that was about the darker side of the Australian character.
Think of the biggest professional risk you’ve taken. What helped you take that risk?
‘As of Today’ (2011-2020) was created without a home in mind and ended up at the Australian War Memorial. This work was intended as a private tribute, a mea culpa for the ramifications of voting in a social liberal democracy. The series forms a sculptural monument which acknowledges all the Australian soldiers who have lost their lives while serving in Afghanistan. After its creation, I wrote to the AWM team and invited them to see it. It was not intended as a public work, but it found a home in the public memorial as it created an unexpected intimacy which the subject matter needed. I learnt from this experience, to work on and take confidence from a core concept and work with no destination in mind, even over prolonged periods of time.
Tell us about your studio, what kind of place is it? Could you describe your usual work-day in the studio?
My studio is fairly industrial, with whiteboards for planning, materials stacked on pallets, dust rooms for the creation of large marble sculptures and plenty of natural sunlight and big open flat surfaces for drawing and finishing sculptures. Music is a huge part of the working day and when in full flight PPE and other safety equipment has to be worn. We offset this with the occasional studio lunch with all the trimmings and a good red wine.
“Turns out, your iPhone will last a lot longer than a stone sculpture ever would.”
– Alex Sexton
What were you working on when the lockdown was announced?
I was one week away from leaving for Rome when the lockdown measures were put in place. I was going to go on a two-month Mordant Family/Australia Council Affiliated Fellowship at the American Academy in Rome to use the resources from the conservation department to look at the impacts of pollution on statuary and stone, particularly marble. Was getting excited to study the long-term effects of atmospheric pollution and how marble or calcium carbonate can be a litmus test of our atmosphere. Turns out, your iPhone will last a lot longer than a stone sculpture ever would.
I had also just opened a show at Goulburn Regional Art Gallery called The Great Escape. I had grown up in the region and it was a homecoming show about the landscape and the materials that inspired my practice. Sadly we had to put aside some of our public programs and close the show a little early due to social distancing measures. I was lucky enough to have plenty of work to get on with in the studio, lots of drawing and thinking time and no openings to run off to each week.
What would elevate artists’ life during this period?
Here in Australia we had terrible bushfires in January and before COVID-19 this had already impacted so many artists lives. I was also on the board of directors for Art Month Sydney which we had to end two weeks early. As a result of the impacts all of these events have had on artists, I have been part of a fundraising initiative called The Artists’ Benevolent Fund. This fund was started in the 1960s and is administered by the National Association of Visual Arts (NAVA). Access to personal emergency funds for artists in strife is incredibly needed in times like this.
Before you go – you might like to browse our Artist Interviews. Interviews of artists and outliers on how to be an artist. Contemporary artists on the source of their creative inspiration.