Interview with Artist Sandy Gillespie

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Basic bio?

I moved from San Diego to Fairbanks in 1990 after graduating from San Diego State University with an MA in English; I graduated from UAF with an MFA in Creative Writing in 1994. In 2000, my partner and I built a cabin where we lived until last year, aside from three years (2002-2005) in Anchorage, where I worked for the Alaska State Council on the Arts (as Literary and Visual Arts Programs Director). We built studios on our property when we returned home, but before I began working in it, we split up. This body of work traverses the chasm that opened with this change in my life.

Where did the idea of "Open Book"" come from?

I often use text in my visual art, but it is seldom legible. By contrast, some of the work in this exhibit is legible – primarily the books, which are journals of sorts. The past year has been one of the most challenging and difficult of my life, a time of great transition. Knowing that transformation comes through these hard experiences, I decided to go ahead with this show and allow the creation of this work to be part of the process of healing and moving forward. I have included several works from an earlier series (the ICON SERIES) that reference books and authors that have influenced me over the years. These works are an opening into the texts (for me at least), so the idea of open book may have begun with that recognition. Also, the oil paintings (the SLEEPLESS NIGHTS SERIES) are layered with the written word. Unstretched, which is a first for me; they feel like pages torn from a text or from my life. The QUOTATION SERIES is a collection of "quotations" from my communion with the ocean here in Homer. For me, all the works are pages/thoughts/moments/feelings from my life. They reveal confusion and chaos and the beauty within that chaos. The show reflects process and trust in that process.

How did you choose the work you included in this exhibit?

I made all the work for the show, plus the ICON series, which connects my personal pages with the pages of women writers across time and place.

In your exhibit description, you mention the use of found items—can you elaborate on what some of these items are, and how you used them? Where did the materials come from? Were you looking for them, or did they find you?

All the found objects come from Bishop's Beach in Homer – 1/2 a block from my home, a place I see and walk on every day (or almost every day). Primarily seaweed, a bit of sand, and rocks—we found each other.

What is your favorite piece in the exhibit and why?

I can’t say; it’s always shifting.

Can you describe your process? How does it differ when you move from large abstract oils to caustics to bookmaking? How does it stay the same?

Painting with oil on large canvases is the process that feels most direct and immediate to me. Vast. Free. Intimate. That is how they feel to me, both while painting and when viewing them once finished. The smaller, mixed media works require a more controlled intention, also satisfying. Encaustics (layers of pigmented wax fused with heat) are enjoyable because they smell wonderful (the bees wax I use to make the medium). Also, they are small and completed more quickly, which is especially satisfying while working for months on larger works. I work in all mediums most of the time, even in a given session, though sometimes one type of work absorbs me exclusively for a period of time. When I begin a painting, I know what series I am working within, but never specifically what the piece is going to be. I respond to the materials as I work – an actual dialogue with the canvas.

The books in this show are personal. I didn't think about showing them while working on them, even once I knew my intentions. I debated whether or not to have them available for reading. Ultimately, I decided yes – as a way to acknowledge the shared humanity of my own experience. I believe the feminist adage that the personal is political, and we are so often silenced emotionally as well as verbally, men and women, children and adults.

Which came first, the writing or the painting?

Writing has always come first; I have been a writer since I first could write. With painting, I love the physical interaction with materials. I love the scale of the large work, the smell of paints and wax, the mess on my clothes and hands and studio. Although I love to tidy my studio, too.

Which do you find more enjoyable, painting or writing? Which do you find more gut-wrenching? How does bookmaking fare in those two respects against those two competitors?

Writing is more difficult. Writing can never be an escape for me; it’s not a way to avoid what I am thinking/feeling. So it can be gut-wrenching in that way, although this is not a term I would normally use. I would say writing always taps into whatever is going on within. That might be joy or despair or curiosity or anything else a person can experience. Visual art-making taps into all of this also, but, for me, it also entails a physicality that brings me outside my self. I like that paintings can mean many things to many people. In other words, there is no "right" way to "read" them. They mean different things to me at different times. Once I hang the work, I am a viewer, and I have a new relationship to the paintings. It is also like this with writing, but to a lesser extent. I think of myself as a painter and a writer, not a bookmaker. In some ways, handmade books obviously bring these two ways of creating together, but so does painting for me. I often begin writing text, even if it is not visible in the finished painting. For me, the inscribed words give meaning to the work, even if never seen by the viewer.

What role does Alaska play in your work? In other words, how does it influence you? Same questions re: Homer?

Alaska is in my soul. Vast. Wild. Fragile. Strong. Intimate. Impersonal. Alaska puts me in the right relationship to the universe. I can never lose sight of my insignificance. At the same time, this immense place is vulnerable to each step we take. Each person here impacts each other person: such a large space, so few people. Every place I've lived in Alaska has been community-minded and caring.

Homer has welcomed me with wide arms. It is intellectually, artistically, and personally stimulating. San Diego Bay is like a salty lake. Kachemak Bay is an ocean, wild and forceful. The beach changes dramatically day to day. I feel alive and home here. In Homer people are open and communicative, productive and dedicated, friendly and interesting.

Thoughts on having an exhibit at the Alaska State Museum?

It is an honor to have a solo exhibition at the Alaska State Museum. Alaskan museums support Alaskan artists. This is not the norm across the country, and I think it is a model for other institutions. It is challenging also, in the way all art-making is challenging, but in particularly Alaskan ways. It’s hard to support yourself as an artist, and the added need to ship work and travel large distances for openings is a real hardship.

In preparing for and traveling to this show, I'd like to thank the following supporters:

• Bunnell Street Arts Center and Homer Foundation, for a month-long residency at Bunnell, including a stipend
• Alaska State Council on the Arts, for a Career Opportunity Grant to assist with shipping and travel to Juneau
• Family and friends who gifted me with a trip to Minneapolis, for shared holiday time and much needed personal nourishment (Michelle, Zachary, Kim, Jen, Bill, Holly, Lea)
• My grandchildren & niece for laughter, tenderness and genuine insight (Sage, Aidan, Rylee and niece, Zoe)
• Friends and family in Homer, Fairbanks, Anchorage and beyond who have supported me with meaningful conversation, meals and beds when traveling, and inspiration to embrace life even in the midst of loss and sadness.