Between You and Me

Californian artist Liz Craft (*1970 in Los Angeles, CA, USA) creates sculptures and figurative installations that appear to be fragments in space. They seem to tell us dream-like stories summoning an atmosphere that can be associated with Surrealism, fairy tales or drug hallucinations. The formal language of her works has an immediate effect on the viewer, the techniques and materials merging without hierarchy – ranging from fabric, plastic, glass and papier mâché to synthetic resin, ceramics and bronze. 

For her art, Craft draws primarily on ideas from the American counterculture of the 1960s, psychedelic experiences and pop culture. She borrows imagery from B-movies, Westerns and horror films as well as from comics and the aesthetics of amusement park backdrops. Liz Craft frequently lifts figures such as witches, unicorns, motorcyclists, pirates and the Grim Reaper out of their familiar contexts to quote, exaggerate or condense them in her works. 

Displayed in the exhibition space, the works enter into relationships with each other, like actors in a theatre piece. The figures’ gazes, words and gestures are arranged in new constellations each time they are presented, always telling a different story. In the series Speech Bubbles, wall sculptures whose shape recalls the speech bubbles in comic books or instant messages seem to be having conversations amongst themselves. The works bear punchy titles such as Suck it Hippie! (2017) or Do You Love Me Now (2019).  

Craft’s sculptural work has a sprawling quality, for example the wall piece Strange Thing (2018), a parasitic organism made of electrical switch boxes and cable lines that spreads out across the walls, exploring its boundaries. The sculptures call to mind that particular brand of Californian irreverence that can be summed up by the words “Too Cool for School”. This phrase reflects an attitude derived from American teen movies, describing a casual but arrogant individual who likes to defy rules and social codes. 

SG Heart (1-8) (2021) features eight aluminium hearts that resemble jewellery pendants into which you can slide the photo of a loved one and flip it shut. Inside are photos of people you have overdrawn with felt-tip pen and turned into zombies. How do you connect horror with this symbol of love?

LC These are Polaroid photos my daughter made. I had her make a few extra ones and I decided to use them. That’s why one says “I don’t want to do this anymore ...” I liked them because overdrawing is a recurring action, young people continue to do. We have all done this to either our own or someone else’s photo.

SG The wall piece Strange Thing (2018) consists of an electrical box and cable lines that stretch across the walls like a labyrinth, breaking out of the usual framework. How important is the exhibition space to you when presenting your work?

LC I still think like an installation artist even if I primarily focus on objects. There are many works such as the word bubbles and the ones you mentioned in your question that include the idea of space in the idea of the work. I like when art breaches the boundary of the real world.

SG Strange Thing and Subway Creatures (both 2018) are based on objects you encountered in the underground. What interested you about these elements?

LC These came about from living in NY and spending a lot of time underground. Noticing the decaying infrastructure of NY. The hundreds of old cables piling on each other, layers of paint on everything, old security bubbles that are reminiscent of the 80s. It makes an impression and you can’t help think of a science fiction book. At this time I also got into Métal Hurlant*. This was also something from my childhood memory that could be revisited or reignited, it was sparked by being in those subways all the time.

* Métal Hurlant was a French science fiction and horror comic magazine with an unconventional style, published by Les Humanoïdes Associés from 1975 to 1987 and 2002 to 2006.

SG You told me that your tables with a tile covering, such as Living on the Edge (2016) developed from the work Lazy Lady (2014). How did that come about?

LC I made the rectangular tile pieces first, and that led to the tile tables. The wall work looked like a table top so I thought, why not make a table version? I wasn’t completely satisfied with the rectangle at the time, it was too much like a painting. I like when things are more connected to life, the rectangle was better as a table, I thought, conceptually. This also led to making the word bubbles; I liked that the bubbles included people if they stood near them or the architecture, such as a doorway.

SG In Love-Hate-Relationship (2017) you chained an old bicycle frame to a large sculpture of a penis. How did you come up with this combination?

LC This came about from obser-vation. When we moved to Berlin in 2016, I noticed, as I rode my bike around, how many of these poles that keep the cars from the side walk there are. They are everywhere, these metal poles. I also noticed how many abandoned bicycle carcasses there were around. They were chained to everything. So I didn’t have to do much; the sculpture was already there. This is a great feeling when something comes together that easily. It doesn’t always work that way.

SG Throughout the exhibition, we encounter numerous works from your Speech Bubbles series whose shape reminds of the outlines of text elements used in comics or text messages. They seem to run through your work like a motif. What role do the Speech Bubbles play for you and why do they appear repeatedly?

LC Yes, they are referencing comics and text bubbles. I like that it doesn’t really matter what is in the word bubble, the bubble can stand on its own and what’s in it is secondary. So it gives me a lot of freedom, and little pressure. I can work on them in an automatic drawing sort of way. Sometimes they are smart, other times blank, clever, abstract – it doesn’t matter.
I like this part.
They also remind me of Artschwager’s blps a little, which I also like.*

* Richard Artschwager’s (1923–2013) blps (pronounced “blips”) were unique ovular forms that the US-American artist placed in various locations in the public space from the late 1960s, including subway platforms and smokestacks. His intention was to bring the public’s attention to surfaces and structures that usually go unnoticed. 

SG The Speech Bubbles are lan-guage containers, even though you don’t always place text in them, but also images. Which importance does language have in your work?

LC I don’t work in a linear way … I guess I use language in the titles and often write little things here and there for joke reasons, but I don’t use it to explain the work, this is for sure. You don’t need to read wall text to understand something about the work. If you want to know more, for sure you could read up, but I think it’s very visual work and doesn’t really rely on language. Maybe all these references to language – such as the speech bubbles – is just a way to refer to ideas that people have going on in the heads.

SG In this room, small-format sculptures are presented together with a selection of photographs. What does this selection show?

LC The photographs are from a book I made with DoPe Press, My Life in the Sunshine. I made it scrap book style and printed out hundreds of images and arranged them on the floor. The idea was to try and make a book that showed more about how I worked and where ideas came from and who I was around. To give a little more insight on how artists generate work through life. It was also a response to the digital world and Instagram.

SG The term “Too Cool for School” has often been associated with your work since the author Dennis Cooper mentioned your name in his article about art schools in LA published in the 1990s. How do you yourself associate this phrase, which comes from American teen films, with your artistic practice?

LC It’s a funny phrase that has multiple meanings; I of course like this kind of thing. It also makes me think of an 80s teen movie, which is why Dennis probably used it. I think it was cheeky and got us a lot of attention. I don’t know if it has to do with my work, do I think I’m too cool? Maybe I did? Ask my ex-art dealers …

SG You studied at UCLA. The school was a vibrant and exuberant hub for artists and the Los Angeles art scene in the 1990s. How important was the school environment for you as an artist?

LC It was very important; there were so many good artists around, teaching and visiting: interesting shows and galleries. We were very lucky, this doesn’t happen all the time. Because it isn’t as simple as good artists teaching, there has to be the right chemistry, administration, competition of other schools, and between the teachers and of course good students.

SG 4 Clouds with Bottles (2023) is reminiscent of the playful image combinations of surrealism and elicits various associations. Eyes protruding in the cloud gaze intoxicatedly into the exhibition space. Next to it we see Between You and Me III (2018), which gives the exhibition its name. It consists of two mouths chained together, which seems pleasurable but at the same time violent to me. Are your works about the heights and depths of being human?

LC I suppose this could be true.

SG You are interested in a wide range of visual references. What is the starting point when you create a new work of art?

LC I use found objects, found images, found phrases as a starting point … usually. I filter in what’s around me, or from a memory, one that sticks in my mind, such as Ms. Pac-Man. Other times I just work in a free association way, but I guess there is a framework of some sort to be free within, such as the word bubbles.

SG Ms. Pac-Man (2022) is a gath-ering of yellow smiley faces with mouths agape and pink hair meshes. The grimaces contrast with black robes that only imply bodies and stand ghostly in space. What is it about these figures? 

LC Ms. Pac-Man is such an image that sticks in my mind; it is like the smiley face and the emoji face … I like that they look insane, like they might eat you. You can’t tell if they are really, really happy or crazed. They remind me of my child’s fish in the fish tank. I spent a lot of time looking at them last winter.

SG You have made a selection of several video works by your artist friends that we can watch in this room. Why did you choose to show these works? 

LC I thought having the videos of friends was a nice addition, similar to showing the pages from the book I made (room 4). The book includes friends, family, people in the scene, references etc. It gives a little context, videos I like, people I like. 

SG Querelle (2016) is a bronze sculpture of a penis with a net “spilling” into the room. The penis is another recurring subject in your work. Why do you use it as a motif?

LC For fun.

SG You use a variety of materials for your sculptures. These can range from classical ones like bronze, or ceramic tiles to less durable components like papier mâché or candles. Sometimes we also come across found materials, such as coins or parts of an old bicycle. How do you choose your materials?

LC It has to “make sense” either conceptually or out of practicality. Whenever I say a thing like this that seems contradictory, I think it’s hard for people to understand. Some understand, I think. I don’t have concrete rules. I do what is necessary at the time and for that work.

SG Why did you choose ceramic as a material for the Speech Bubbles? 

LC It is like a sculptor’s version of drawing. And clay is the same material I use to sculpt the sculptures so it seems natural.

SG In addition to your larger sculptures, there are a number of smaller ones. Among them are hands, gestures or spiders. What role does the choice of scale play for you in your sculptures?

LC I most often start out big or at the scale I imagine and make a smaller version later. I work backwards, I guess. A few start out small, if I am lazy or don’t have money. 

Scale is very important to sculptors, for example the pony sculpture was made three times to get the size of the pony body right.

SG Your titles are fun, concise and biting. For example, two large sculptures enter into a dialogue about their titles. One asks the question What Are You Going to Do About It? (2017) and receives a dry Go Fuck Yourself (2017) from the other. What role do you assign to the titles of your works?

LC I’ve gotten more into the titles, I think in the last ten years. These titles worked particularly well, they really fit the gestures of the sculptures. They are another component of the assemblage.

SG How do you come up with your titles?

LC The words are like everything else, they are usually found phrases …

SG The marionettes of the Spider Ladies (2015) are grotesque and uncanny, but at the same time sympathetic and human. The human being, who moves in pop-cultural and urban environments, is at the centre of your work. We encounter hands, gestures, eyes, lips, breasts and penises, as well as voices. As a sculptor, what interests you about the human body? And how come you often only highlight single attributes?

LC That is a good question. I just do it intuitively, I guess.
I also think they are not that uncommon in the world,
body fragments.

SG We meet witches, unicorns, pirats or an alien. What interests you about these characters?

LC A lot of the images are from pop culture, they don’t really belong to anyone, so they are open-ended I think, in a way. It’s just like a material, or a colour, and it starts to generate movement, or narrative. 

SG The Pony (2004) challenges the boundaries of taste. Is kitsch important in your work?

LC Yes, I am a student of the 90s and was a keen observer of Mike Kelly and Jim Shaw. I think using taste or dismissing good taste is part of the work. I like this about Amelie von Wullfen’s work as well.

Liz Craft (*1970 in Los Angeles, CA, USA, lives and works in Berlin, DE), studied at Otis Parsons and the University of California, Los Angeles. In 2012, Craft co-founded, along with Pentti Makkonen, Paradise Garage – an independent, non-profit space dedicated to the presentation of contemporary art projects located in the garage of her house in Venice (California).

Craft has exhibited internationally. Liz Craft’s work belongs to the collections of the Whitney Museum of American Art, New York; LACMA; MOCA and Hammer Museum, Los Angeles; and Migros Museum für Gegenwartskunst, Zurich.

Change the build­ing to dis­cov­er the second ex­hib­i­tion:

Zora Ber­we­ger
GREETING THE UNSEEN

CURATOR
Paul-Aymar Morgue d’Algue and Stefanie Gschwend 

TEAM
Anna Beck-Wörner, Regina Brülisauer, Stefanie Gschwend, Christian Hörler, Christian Meier, Claudia Reeb, Madleina Rutishauser

EXHIBITION INSTALLATION
Christian Hörler, Christian Meier mit Ueli Alder, Roswitha Gobbo, Dominik Hull, Carina Kirsch, Niklaus Ulmann

MUSEUM ATTENDANTS
Raphaela Böhi, Dominique Franke, Margrit Gmünder, Roswitha Gobbo, Margrit Küng, Barbara Metzger, Cristina Mosti, Madleina Rutishauser, Melanie Scherrer

TEXT
Stefanie Gschwend, Paul-Aymar Morgue d’Algue

PROOFREADING
Michaela Alex-Eibensteiner

TRANSLATION
Katja Naumann

COURTESY
photos: Lea Kunz

 GRAPHIC DESIGN
Data-Orbit / Michel Egger, St.Gallen

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Zora Berweger, Liz Craft, Paul-Aymar Morgue d’Algue, Paul Bernard, Laura Weber, Team Kunsthaus Pasquart / Centre dʼédition contemporaine, Geneva, Fonds cantonal dʼart contemporain, Geneva, Galerie Loevenbruck, Paris, MAMCO, Geneva, Swana Mourgue dʼAlgue, Neue alte Brücke, Frankfurt, Sébastien Peyret, FR, Anne Shelton Aaron and lenders who wish to remain anonymous