Travelling between various eras, sculptor Shari Mendelson talks about finding inspiration in different pockets of history, in an interview with Sonalee Tomar.
Whenever I have tried to make things that I think would be commercially viable, I’m not happy. I’m always surprised by which pieces get attention. I have given up trying to figure this out. I make what I want to make and hope that if it interests me, it will interest others as well.
Featured image: Artifacts at Todd Merrill Studio, 2016/17
In studio. Portrait courtesy Shari Mendelson.
How do you describe yourself in the context of challenging people’s perspectives via your work and art?
I look to art history as a source of inspiration for my sculpture. My interests include ancient Greek, Roman, and Islamic glass and terra-cotta artefacts. I love these pieces for their formal beauty as well as for the insight they provide into past cultures. I reinterpret these pieces using discarded plastic water, soda, and juice bottles. I collect, cut into pieces and glue the plastic parts into new sculptures. The convex and concave shapes found in our plastic trash offer many possibilities for new forms. At first glance my work may look like glass or ceramic yet upon closer look, a logo, recycling stamp or expiration date reveals the actual material. Using recycled plastic to make works that reference objects of the past offer me a space to playfully explore the transformation of form and material while reflecting on issues of history, culture and value.
How do you deal with the conceptual difficulty and uncertainty of creating new work?
I dive in. Grappling with a new form or an idea – not knowing how it will turn out – is exciting and engaging. If there isn’t some uncertainty, something challenging, making work would be boring.
Tell us about the evolution of your practice over the years. What would you call your style?
I studied jewellery and metal-smithing in school. As soon as I left college, I began making sculpture. Over the years, I have worked in many different materials and made work that range from the hand-held to room-size installations. What all this work has in common is an interest in the intimacy of the hand-made.
Horse for Bill Traylor. 2019.
What inspires you? Let’s talk about your frameworks, references and process.
When I was 18 I spent a year living on a kibbutz in Israel. This is where my love of ancient art began. I now spend lots of time looking at ancient works in museums. I’m drawn to everyday objects as well as religious and ceremonial pieces. I’m interested in the material, visual, and conceptual similarities and differences between works of different cultures and time periods.
What were your biggest lessons and hiccups along the way in your artistic journey?
There is a time during the making of each piece when I think the complete endeavour of making art is a ridiculous, horrible waste of time. The important thing is to push beyond this negativity and keep going. As I continue working I get re-engaged and excited again. This happens over and over. I acknowledge it now and accept it as part of my process.
Animal with Large Antler Handles. 2019. Image credit: Alan Weiner.
What are you working on during this lockdown?
When the pandemic first hit, I began working on series of small vessels. They were fairly simple forms and a perfect vehicle for keeping my hands busy while my mind was distracted by the news. As my time in lockdown has continued, I have turned to making figurative pieces. I have been spending a lot of time researching two types of figures. The first are based on small sculptures of female musicians and dancers that were placed in Chinese tombs to entertain the deceased. I have also been looking at Sumerian worshippers. These figures were placed in temples with the function of praying to the gods for the individuals who they represent. As we live through this pandemic, it is especially moving to be considering these ancient pieces that were important to how past cultures lived, worshipped and died. And the pieces are formally engaging. Their expressions, clothing, hair styles, and postures are all really interesting. There’s a lot to look at and figure out.
Sculpture in the garden. 2018.
How are you balancing life and work at home during the lockdown?
I feel very lucky to have a life-work situation and to be out of the New York City. During the lockdown, when it’s easy to forget what day it is, a routine has helped me. I set my alarm for 7:30 so I can get up and take my dog for a walk before listening to an hour of radio news around eight-nine. Then I usually go upstairs to my studio. I work for a few hours, have lunch, go for a long walk in the woods with my dog and then back to the studio. If the weather is good, I may go outside and spend a few hours doing yard-work. We have nine acres and a few different gardens. I love gardening and find the act of growing flowers and vegetables akin to making art.
The balance between studio and outdoor work shifts throughout the season. I like to listen to the news again from five-six while in the studio and then spend an hour kickboxing or doing yoga with YouTube. My husband and I then make dinner. I have always enjoyed cooking and do it often but during the lockdown, it has become an obsession. I spend part of the day thinking about the ingredients in the refrigerator, looking for new recipes, and strategising what should be eaten sooner rather than later. After dinner, we might watch a movie, read, work in our studios, or connect with friends via the internet.
Sidesaddle. UrbanGlass. 2018. Curated by Elizabeth Essner. Image credit: Nils d’Aulaire.
What would elevate artists’ life during this period?
Focus. I think this is a time to quietly work, think, investigate and realise what is important and essential to one’s own practice.
What do you look for while viewing art? Which shows, performances and experiences have shaped your own creative process? Who are your maestros?
I love looking at both contemporary and historical art. I get really excited when I see something that moves me, that I can’t get out of my head. I think it’s important to look at a lot of work, but not to look for something. If it is there, it will find you.
There are a number of touchstone pieces that I visit frequently at the Metropolitan museum. One is Kneeling Bull Holding A Spouted Vessel and the other is a Gold Cup With A Frieze of Gazelles. They are both in the Near Eastern wing. They always inspire me.
Artists often experience contradicting motivations between the commercial and the creative. How do you strike a balance?
Whenever I have tried to make things that I think would be commercially viable, I’m not happy. I’m always surprised by which pieces get attention. I have given up trying to figure this out. I make what I want to make and hope that if it interests me, it will interest others as well.
Greetings and Offerings.
What was your first sale?
The first sale that I remember was when I was in graduate school in upstate, NY. Somehow, a designer named Charles Morris Mount saw a piece of mine, a copper vessel, and bought it. I brought the piece down to the city and he paid me cash. I can’t remember how much it cost but it was more money than I ever had in my pocket and I was thrilled. I walked around New York City, went to a movie at Lincoln Center Cinema and went out to dinner before driving back upstate to school.
Tell us about your studio.
My main studio is in a loft in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, where my husband, the painter Rick Briggs, and I live and work. I moved to Williamsburg right after school in 1986 and have lived there ever since. In 2003 we bought a small house in rural upstate, NY, about three hours north of the city. During the pandemic we feel very lucky that we can be at our house, where we can be in nature and isolated. Being able to go outside has been important to my mental health. During the winter I work in a room in the house. When it gets warmer I’ll move to the garage where I can spread out and work all summer with the door open. My indoor upstate studio is tiny, around 8X10 ft., but it has windows on two sides. The front window looks south toward our pond and the mountains behind it. Fog often gets caught in the valley and rises up between the pond and the mountains. It’s a view I never tire of. The other window looks west toward my vegetable garden. Right now we’re in the midst of a snowstorm but I look forward to planting my vegetable plot and am dreaming of a true spring. Luckily, my work is small and low-tech so all I need is a table, a chair, an outlet to plug in my glue gun, and good lighting.
Deer Askos, UrbanGlass. 2018. Curated by Elizabeth Essner. Image credit: Nils d’Aulaire.
Are you more of a studio artist or naturally collaborative by nature?
I’m definitely a studio artist. Nothing makes me happier than being alone in my studio making work and trying to understand a piece. I have done a few glass residencies in which I worked with glass artists to make my work. I saw these as wonderful opportunities outside of my practice to learn and engage with smart, talented artists. I learned so much from each of these experiences but this is not my normal day-to-day working method.
How many works do you make in a year? How many would you like to be making?
I never think about how many pieces I make. Some take months, some take weeks. Each one takes its own time and I prefer not to impede on the needs of the individual piece.
Spring Show at Jason Jacques Gallery. 2019.
Is there any topic you would like to be mentored on?
When I first got out of school, almost 30 years ago, it was confusing to figure out how to be an artist and how to structure my life. At that time I think I was longing for a mentor to show me how it was done. In retrospect, I had many mini-mentors but basically, I think we each have to synthesise the input we get from those we respect and find our own way. That said, there are so many things I’m curious about! I do research through reading, going to lectures, visiting museums and other artists. Having a community of artists is important – we learn so much from one another.
What’s coming next season?
I was supposed to have a solo show at Tibor de Nagy Gallery in NY and a group show at the Arthur Ross Gallery at the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia this month. With the pandemic, of course, they have been postponed. I’m hoping the group show happens later this summer and my solo show in the fall. With the lockdown, we’ll have to just wait and see.
For enquiries contact: sharimendelson@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.