Courtney Childress

BIO

Courtney Childress works with personal yet ordinary materials, bringing objects out of the periphery into focus. She lives and works in New York, NY. She received her MFA from S.U.N.Y. at Purchase College, Purchase, NY (2012) and her BFA from the University of Alabama, Tuscaloosa, AL (2008).

She has an upcoming solo exhibition at Massey Klein Gallery, New York, NY in 2021. Her work was recently included in group exhibitions PLAY at Staatsgalerie Stuttgart, Stuttgart, Germany(2021); SPRING/BREAK Big Bang with Eliot Greenwald, New York, NY(2020); Dutch Masters, Mrs Gallery, Maspeth, NY (2018); SPRING/BREAK Black Mirror, curated by Kristen Racaniello, New York, NY (2017); Summer Anagram at Nurture Art, Brooklyn, NY (2016); Line Up at Ess Ef Eff, Brooklyn, NY (2016);Colors, at Louis B. James Gallery, New York, NY (2015); Mingled Bodies, curated by Jovana Stokic at Vanity Projects, Miami, FL and New York, NY (2015); Art Basel Muwkonago at Bahamas Biennale Gallery, WI (2014) Four Lives at Field Projects, NY (2013); Funny at Weeknights, Brooklyn, NY (2013); Eight Degrees at Lu Magnus, New York, NY(2012).

Childress received a City Artist Corps Grant from New York Foundation for the Arts in 2021 and the ACE Grant NYC from the Rema Hort Mann Foundation in 2018.

Her work was featured in ART MAZE Magazine, curated by Julie Curtiss and mentioned in The New York Times in 2018.

ARTIST STATEMENT

Traditionally drawing connects the hand and the eye to make marks; I take this a step further by linking the entire physical body and vision together. Thus, mark-making with my rock sculptures is a multi-sensory experience. The participant uses all the muscles in their body to draw, surprising themselves with the colorful marks generated from moving the rocks, with the bonus of nostalgic olfactory teleportation. The limits of the tools/sculptures/rocks are immediately apparent. One must negotiate themselves around them in a way. After the initial gravity/physicality wears off, the participant finds a way to navigate and control the tool to some extent. Aside from the ham-fisted limitations of the crayons themselves, I impose other restrictions based on location, chains, and surfaces. Curbing participants’ abilities regenerate the childlike wonder of drawing.

Interview with Courtney Childress

Can you tell us a bit about your background and how you became interested in becoming an artist? Who or what were some of your most important early influences?

My mom loves to take credit for my becoming an artist. She never wanted to play with Barbies, so we would 'play art.' She would pile the floor in front of the television with pastels and colored pencils and crayons and turn on Bob Ross and let me go to town. I made some nice indelible marks on the living room carpet.

Where are you currently based and what initially attracted you to working in this place? Are there any aspects of this specific location or community that have inspired aspects of your work? 

I am based in Ridgewood, Queens. It's a great community of artists, feels warm and like a real neighborhood. You can't walk down the street without running into someone you know. I live in a building that I have populated with creative friends in design and art. We have a community garden in the backyard. I'm sure that the feeds me in more ways than I realize. 

Can you describe your studio space? What are some of the most crucial aspects of a studio that make it functional? Do any of these specific aspects directly affect your work?

My studio space is in one of the rooms of my apartment. Being in my home, there is a familiarity of objects and space that colors the work. 

Although the defined studio space in my apartment is small, I end up using my kitchen for melting wax, my kitchen table for lots of various tasks, and my couch for hours of needlework. This could get out of control very quickly, but because I also live and eat and sleep in this space, I keep projects very organized and modular. I must choose my materials with care, as not to make myself sick or live with big messes and weird smells. 

What is a typical day like? If you don't have a typical day, what is an ideal day?

An ideal day would be to wake up early, I am typically up at 6:30 or so. I would do yoga or Pilates, followed by any necessary writing -- this is the best time for writing, when my brain is clear and awake, but uncluttered by stuff like the news, social media or the like. I would then pour crayons, work on leftover paintings, and probably do some needlepoint work or quilting, gardening, and cooking. And then eat dinner and watch a movie with my family and be in bed reading by 9:30 or 10PM. 

Or if it's summer, throw that whole day out the window, head to the beach early to swim and recharge. 

What gets you in a creative mindset?

I am always in a creative mindset -- whether I'm writing, making, or solving logistical problems, I come to task with a different mindset than most.

I worked as a housekeeper when I was in my early 20s and I realized I was great at that job because I didn't look at things the same way most people do. Similar to the exercise where you flip your drawing around to see how it looks when it's not oriented the same way you assume it should be. I would bend over and look at objects in people's homes from below. A different perspective can show someone a lot. 

What criteria do you follow for selecting materials? How long have you worked with this particular media or method?

Crayons have been my primary medium for several years. I had a large collection of crayons from working as an elementary school art teacher. I carried these around from Alabama to Massachusetts to New York. 

As I was spending time with these crayons, sorting and peeling, the smell and feel, I remembered a funny family story about my mom and aunt and a puddle of crayons melted in the backseat of the car. They would laugh as they recounted the part about grabbing fistfuls of crayon and throwing them out the window. So, I made handfuls of melted crayons that mimic the landscape of the desert they were driving through. 

When I make work or select materials, I like to consider the connectivity people inevitably have with objects.  Also, I try to use every bit of a given material. For instance I saved all of my crayon wrappers – there are close to 20,000 at this point. I would like to eventually make large pieces of handmade paper with these. 

Can you walk us through your overall process? How long has this approach been a part of your practice?

I used thousands of crayons in my sculptures, so most of the process is peeling each individual crayon. I buy packs of 800, usually 10-15 at a time and my assistant and I peel and listen to podcasts or audio books. 

I create a mold with wood, plastic, and aluminum foil. Then I heat hundreds of crayons into a custom color and pour a layer. This layer must cool before the next color can be poured. As I cannot see into the mold, so I am responding to the most recent layers, always carefully considering color theory when I create the next hue. The sculptural drawing tools are meant for use, and I want the marks made to be dynamic when dragged around a canvas. 

Can you talk about some of the ongoing interests, imagery, and concepts that have informed your process and body of work over time? How do you anticipate your work progressing in the future?

The limits I set with my work nod to early childhood development, the restrictions of the tools change the movements of the participant's body. Whether that means pushing a sixty-pound Boulder crayon across the floor or chaining a Rock piece to the wall in a fixed arch. 

The way the sculptures change with use is focus as well. My work starts out craggy and with use, smooths the surface, revealing layers of carefully selected color, and eventually disappear. 

Recently I've been traveling to the Southwest more regularly, the landscape is beyond inspiring for me. For my recent show, I made a couple of sculptures that were in a limited palette, closely resembling those of the desert in southern Utah. I'm currently working on a Boulder crayon that will be in the palette of the mountains covered in snow. 

Do you pursue any collaborations, projects, or careers in addition to your studio practice? If so, can you tell us more about those projects, and are there connections between your studio practice and these endeavors?

I have always been an advocate for artists, my years spent as a gallerist and now as an advisor to artists is a huge part of my life. I love the work I can do with artists to help them navigate the art world. The artists I work with are infinitely inspiring to me and their work feeds my own.

As an artist, I truly understand where artists are coming from, their needs, concerns -- it makes me a better curator and advocate.

As a result of the pandemic, many artists have experienced limited access to their studios or loss of exhibitions, income, or other opportunities. Has your way of working (or not working) shifted significantly during this time? Are there unexpected insights or particular challenges you’ve experienced?

I was fortunate in so many ways, I was able to keep my job and my studio was at home, so I had everything at my fingertips. I didn't struggle in the ways that I know so many people did. 

I spent the first few months of the pandemic not making art, it felt trivial to make interactive sculpture in a moment when we feared touching surfaces. But I realized that my sculptures are so joyful and fun, and that is exactly what people need at this very moment in time. I also took time during the pandemic to work on some needlepointing and quilting, which continues to be fulfilling. 

Can you share some of your recent influences? Are there specific works—from visual art, literature, film, or music—that are important to you?

I always have a few artists rolling around in my head -- Matthew Barney's Drawing Restraint, Lynda Benglis' puddles, Vija Clemins Constellations, Sol LeWitt's architectural interventions. Julie Mehretu's map paintings at the Whitney last year reminded me of her early influence on my work.

An important aspect of my work is the connection to early childhood development -- specifically how young people learn how to use tools. 

I'm also thinking about geological formation and landscape. How rocks form and change over time. 

Who are some contemporary artists you’re excited about? What are the best exhibitions you’ve seen in recent memory and why do they stand out? 

I'm lucky to have a great tight knit group of artists in my life, and we are in constant dialogue -  Kerri Ammirata, Ryan Wilde and Erik Dalzen. But also, Natalie Baxter, Julia Norton, Esther Ruiz, Nick Naber, Tyler Lafreniere, Genesis Belanger, Rose Nestler, and Liz Glaessner - who has a show opening at PPOW very soon!

Rochelle Feinstein is an artist I've worked with but also admired for so long. She has several concurrent shows opening Jan 28th in NYC, LA, Paris and Miami, that I saw recently. She blends painting and politics like no one else. 

Do you have any tips or advice that someone has shared with you that you have found particularly helpful?

In my very early days as an assistant at a gallery, the owner told me to treat everyone well. Seems simple, but the idea is that the assistant or registrar of a gallery could end up being a writer or curator. The last thing we want to do belittle anyone in the art world. It's a small world, and you will inevitably cross paths with people repeatedly. In the same vein, I would encourage people to make genuine connections with people, this will serve you greatly in the long run. 

What are you working on in the studio right now? What’s coming up next for you?

I just wrapped up a solo show of interactive drawings and sculptures at Massey Klein in January 2022. So now I'm marinating on the next steps -- thinking about how that show turned out, what people said about the work, and how they engaged physically. I will take a bit of time now to consider all that before getting started on anything new.

To find out more about Courtney Childress check out her Instagram and website.