Juliette Losq attributes a feeling of relief and anticipation to the worldwide lockdowns, as she meticulously builds her vision, and work, one layer at a time.
I always have the plan for my next piece of work, or several pieces, in my head whilst I am working on the current piece. The process I use is time consuming, so I have a lot of time to think. I never get the feeling of being daunted by a ‘blank canvas’.
Featured image: In studio. Image courtesy Juliette Losq.
Tell us about your own personal evolution, vis a vis your journey with art and the work that you do today.
When I started my BA at Wimbledon College of Art, I was painting photorealistic portraits of people in acrylic. They often had three-dimensional elements protruding from the canvas. I always saw myself as someone who painted portraits, since being at school. In my first year of BA I took an etching course for a few weeks, and found that I really liked the effects it produced.
Having learned how to build up a plate in layers by masking areas off, I decided to apply the same principles to painting. I then started to develop the technique that I still use today, where images are built up with multiple layers. The landscape element of my work evolved at the same time. I’d been looking at old etching of the River Tames in London. I decided to visit the same spot and document it for my own work. What had once been busy wharves, are now rusting, derelict structures and there were no longer any people working there.
Teleorama No II. Ink and watercolour on paper. 120 x 150 cm. 2020.
At the moment, I am working with a historical optical device called the Teleorama, or paper peep-show. I am investigating this form, as a new means of creating and exhibiting drawings of contemporary sites and ruins. This is the basis of my PhD.
What inspires you? Let’s talk about your frameworks, references and process.
I collect a lot of paper and ephemera – old journals and magazines, optical toys, catalogues of optical devices. At the moment, I am working with a historical optical device called the Teleorama, or paper peep-show. I am investigating this form, as a new means of creating and exhibiting drawings of contemporary sites and ruins. This is the basis of my PhD.
How do you deal with the conceptual difficulty and uncertainty of creating new work?
I always have the plan for my next piece of work, or several pieces, in my head whilst I am working on the current piece. The process I use is time consuming, so I have a lot of time to think. I never get the feeling of being daunted by a ‘blank canvas’.
Proscenium. Ink and watercolour on paper. 200 x 280 x 200 cm. 2018.
How does your interaction with a curator or gallery evolve into a relationship?
I have been fortunate to work mainly with very supportive gallerists and curators who don’t demand works of a particular size, for example, but leave it up to me to produce a body of work, from which they can then select. They are happy for the work to evolve at its own pace, and like to see the working process and the influences that feed into the work. I am always happy to arrange studio visits, and gallerists and curators tend to enjoy seeing work in progress as well as my working environment.
Who are your maestros?
As a student, I was a huge fan of Nigel Cooke’s paintings, his earlier work from between 2001 to ’05. In terms of painters whose work I like now, I’m really enjoying the work of Flora Yukhnovich, Emma Stibbons and Masayoshi Nojo.
Proscenium. Ink and watercolour on paper. 200 x 280 cm. 2017.
Tell us your observations on spending time around artists in flow.
Working closely with other artists can be difficult. People have their own working methods. They can be messy or meticulous; I am the latter. Artists tend to be very territorial and I have seen many battles for studio space, where people are constantly pushing and moving the boundaries. I much prefer working in isolation.
I think it is a mistake to make work purely for commercial purposes.
How do you strike a balance between the contradicting motivations: commercial v/s creative?
I think it is a mistake to make work purely for commercial purposes – if you are not constantly challenging yourself within your own practice, and are simply repeating a formula, you will get bored. You need to be engaged with your own practice, while constantly looking for ways to evolve it.
Tell us about your studio, what kind of place is it? Could you describe your usual work-day?
My studio is on an island in the Thames called Eel Pie Island. The studio complex is in a working boatyard, so there are always things going on, boats and machinery being moved around. It never looks the same from one week to the next.
The studio area is very quirky, in the sense that some studios are converted from boats, there is a lot of old nautical equipment lying around, being used for planting things or as a support for buildings. There is a lovely garden space where artists can sit and relax, which is adjacent to a nature reserve. It is very tranquil. I’m fortunate to be able to walk to the studio, which is self-contained, so I am now able to work safely in there. It would have been very difficult to carry on working from my own home, due to the scale of the pieces that I am working on. I feel very lucky.
What were you working on when the lockdown was announced?
Fortunately, I was working on a small scale model on which to base a large-scale drawn installation. This meant I could make the model at home, which took a few weeks. Alongside, I was writing a document for my PhD, so I was able to juggle the two, which occupied my time during lockdown.
Oracle. Ink and watercolour on paper. 145 x 160 cm. 2019.
What kind of critical inputs does the art world need at this moment to overcome the loss of income and opportunity?
Some commercial galleries in the UK have set-up open submission exhibitions and are inviting artists to apply, free of charge. This gives emerging artists an opportunity to exhibit in a place, where they would not normally get the chance to show their work.
Virtual tours and exhibitions are a great way to keep things moving for artists. Artists want their work to be seen, even though they are happy working in isolation, for the most part.
What would elevate artists’ life during this period?
Virtual tours and exhibitions are a great way to keep things moving for artists. Artists want their work to be seen, even though they are happy working in isolation, for the most part. I have really enjoyed watching Grayson Perry’s Art Club on TV. There’s something comforting about the idea that everyone has had to adapt and make sacrifices in terms of how they work, unless they are lucky enough to have a proper studio setup in their own home.
Equilibrium. Ink and watercolour on paper. 150 x 300 cm. 2020.
How did the lockdown affect your practice and plans?
I had four shows lined up to take place during lockdown, three in London and one in New York. Obviously these have all become virtual shows and it is uncertain whether they will continue or be rescheduled after lockdown is lifted. The large scale installation I am working on, which was due to be installed in June, has now been postponed until next year. This has been a relief as I would like as many people as possible to see it, under safe conditions. It is a large walk-through paper landscape, commissioned by a stately home, Sewerby Hall in Yorkshire, and funded by the Arts Council. As this is such a great opportunity to show my installation practice, I would rather it be delayed until a time when people are more comfortable being out and about, looking at art.
All images courtesy Juliette Losq.
For enquiries contact: juliettelosq@gmail.com
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.