Noga Cohen

BIO

Noga Cohen is New York based artist and educator. She is the recipient of the Immigrant Artists Program Fellowship of NYFA (New York Foundation for the Arts) for 2021-22. She received her MFA in Visual Arts from Columbia University in 2021. While earning her MFA, she won the David Berg Foundation Fellowship, the Artis Contemporary Fellowship, and the Brevoort-Eickemeyer Fellowship. In 2018, she received the Gross Foundation Prize, the Adams Prize, and the SBY grant for emerging artists. Her work has been included in venues such as Amos Eno Gallery (Brooklyn), ChaShaMa (New York), Wallach Gallery (New York), Project V Gallery (New York), the Art Lab (Tel Aviv), and more. Her work was featured in publications such as ArtForum, Art and Education, Tiger Strikes Asteroid Magazine, and more.

ARTIST STATEMENT

Noga Cohen works in sculpture, installation, and mixed media art to navigate through psychological and existential themes of perilousness and protection. Her work draws a line between temporality, decay, and preservation, and addresses the relationship between the human body and trauma. Her practice is pushing the limits of found materials and exploring natural processes of decomposition and putrefaction through nontraditional sculptural techniques. She collects everyday objects, furniture, plastic waste, and industrial materials used in house constructions, manipulates them by using methods of deconstruction and rebuilding, to investigate their inherent qualities. In her sculptural process, she stacks, hangs, breaks, tears, wraps, stuffs, uses heat, time, and gravity, to construct objects that reveal anthropomorphic elements. Her work contextualizes different aspects of violence, destruction, and precariousness. It offers a critical political point of view of the ways the human body is perceived, utilized, and valued in the current time. Her work highlights wounded bodily textures and forms as physical manifestations of trauma. She reconstructs fragmented residues, accumulated marks, scars, and traces, to explore concepts of mortality and loss.

Interview with Noga Cohen

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?

I’m a multidisciplinary artist working in sculpture, installation, photography, and mixed media. I grew up in Israel, in an environment where art was not particularly appreciated, yet it has always been a big part of my life. I always felt that engaging with art is a way to ask questions about the world and practice healthy criticality. Literature and poetry were always around me, as well as popular culture, and both were major influences on me growing up in the early 2000s. I was always fascinated by how poetic moments in film, literature, and music can encapsulate so much of the pain and uncertainty of our existence. Making art was a way for me to create poetic moments for myself and observe the chaos and madness around me. I had a few good teachers in school who believed in me, and this is part of the reasons I choose to become an art educator in addition to my artistic practice, and support others.

Any stories you can share about early memories of how an aspect of the arts impacted you? 

Keeping a consistent art practice has helped me go through difficult times, process trauma, and reflect on my life. It became an inseparable part of me. Growing up in the most polluted town in my country made me very conscious of environmental injustice issues, and it certainly impacted my artistic practice, which revolves around issues of accumulated damage and decay. I have strong memories of moments of wandering around and exploring, which I wouldn’t necessarily consider creative, that actually impacted me creatively. For example, wandering around my hometown and discovering abandoned spaces and residues of past events informed my work deeply when I was younger. Searching for materials, spaces and inspiration became common practice for me. I often come across materials that spark curiosity in the most unexpected ways. I go through phases of intense work and downtime, which can get confusing at times. Still, I’ve learned to appreciate spending time researching, observing, and engaging in other practices that enrich my creative practice in indirect ways. 

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

I moved to New York City 3 years ago and have been living in Washington Heights since then. I moved here a few months before the beginning of Covid for my MFA at Columbia. Transitioning and adjusting to a new country and culture is a long and painful process, and it has been challenging to do so during the pandemic. I am grateful that I found a strong community of artists in the city I am happy to be a part of. It took some time to create a sense of belonging and comfort in the city, and now I feel very connected to it. I have always dreamed of being a part of a culturally diverse, fast-paced place where creativity is appreciated and welcomed, and I feel grateful I settled in here.   

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?

For me, a studio is a space for exploration and experimentation. The place I use for making work needs to be a space that enables exploration and playfulness. I need my space to contain a lot of mess, objects I collect, and materials I keep that don’t always make sense but have an inner logic and a part in my practice. When I had access to a large studio, I filled it up with objects I’d found in garbage dumpsters, outside of construction sites, and on the street. I was making deconstructed versions of discarded objects, connecting odds and ends, and putting things together in unexpected ways. I used to hang broken pieces of furniture from the ceiling and wrap them together with nylon wrap to create anthropomorphic-shaped objects. Being able to work in a well-ventilated space enabled me to explore the possibilities of heat and working with melted and burnt materials like plastic. Nowadays I work from a home studio, and naturally, it looks different, but still has the same purpose - to allow me space to explore.  

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

Every day looks a little different for me since I have a packed schedule filled with all of the projects and gigs I do. I try to plan every day in a way that leaves enough time for my daily morning/evening routine, although I’m not religious about it. I have created a routine for myself that gives me a sense of stability and consistency. There are some things that I try to do every day to keep up with my creative work and nourish myself mentally and creatively. The first thing that keeps me grounded in my routine is being in communication with other creative friends and talking to people that inspire me. I find that relationships with people who are creative, ambitious, and inspiring can be very fulfilling. Daily conversations with other artists and people who are close to me are keeping me inspired and stimulated. I like sharing readings with friends, helping each other, and discussing ideas. Writing is a big part of my life and I use it to reflect on my mental, emotional and creative processes. I write ideas, lists, and reflections and keep a studio notebook with all of my notes. I also try to move my body daily and go on long walks in the city to clear my head and recharge.

What gets you in a creative groove or flow? Are snacks involved? ☺

I go through cycles of creative us-and-downs, so a creative flow for me is either intense or elusive and it’s hard to define sometimes. My brain is always working, and for me, a big part of my creative process is thinking, observing, and processing, so the making part comes afterward - it’s just the tip of the iceberg of the process. I find that I have the clearest ideas in times when I’m not doing anything in particular, like standing in line or riding the subway. This is why I believe it’s so important to have downtime - especially for artists and creatives. When I was a kid and used to complain to my mom that I’m bored, she used to say: “that’s excellent. Boredom is a privilege” and I never understood why until I grew up and realized how true it is. When I started investing more time and energy in my studio practice I figured I need to protect myself from becoming overstimulated and numb. I think it gets harder and harder these days to avoid distractions in our everyday lives and just allow ourselves to do nothing. The idea that we must be productive at all times, as artists, is surreal to me. I try to take breaks from social media and spend time observing the world around me instead of checking my phone, especially in boring situations. So being bored and unstimulated, ironically, is the most inspiring thing that gets me into a creative mode. I carry a notebook with me and write ideas when they come up during the most unexpected, mundane moments. Also, chocolate-covered almonds always do the trick for me as the perfect studio snack! 

Is there anything that interrupts and stagnates your creative energy?

I realized, over the years, that I need to feel a sense of safety to be able to create. It’s very hard to create a sense of safety in a world that is becoming increasingly hostile. Dealing with the unpredictable nature of life as an artist and a freelancer can be very stressful, and it’s hard to find peace. I find that the constant pressure to be “productive” as an artist is very limiting and goes against my natural creative process. I am very conscious of my mental health and try to make sure I take care of myself to be able to keep my practice consistent. I try to ground myself with habits that nourish me mentally, emotionally, and physically to create a sense of peace and stability. 

How do you select materials? How long have you worked with this particular media or method?

I use a lot of found materials and found objects in my work. I work in different mediums, so I tend to use a specific medium that makes sense with each specific theme or project. I like to switch mediums and go back and forth between different disciplines, working simultaneously on various pieces and in multiple mediums. I mostly start with a found object or material that excites me and start working with it in ways that explore its essential qualities. I select materials that have some relationship to the human body, like furniture, industrial insulations, everyday objects, and materials that were designed to serve a functional purpose. I work to remove the functional aspects of the objects and transform them into something else, revealing their limitations and purposelessness. I have been working a lot with plastic because of its tactile, bodily qualities, and found it echoes processes of decay and transformation in many ways. Working with found objects and materials is a fairly new practice for me because I used to work in photography for years. In the past few years, I felt more attracted to working with materials that have a history and a past.

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

My practice is multidisciplinary, revolves around ideas of temporality, decay, and preservation, and addresses the relationship between the human body and trauma. The body is my starting point for many projects of mine and a constant source of exploration. My creative practice originates from personal experiences and processing trauma through my art making. Currently, I am very interested in the relationship between layered spaces, relationships between body and space, responding to architecture with sculptural gestures, and creating site-specific installations. It took me some time to really consider space as an integral part of my work. My background is in photography, and I think I have a similar approach to different mediums - whether it’s sculpture or photography, or installation. I have been working with imagery taken from pornography for a few years and created a body of work consisting of deconstructed images using layered multiple projections to create almost abstract representations of bodies, reminiscence of intimacy, and notions of violence. I use methods of deconstruction, cropping, layering, rebuilding, and repurposing pieces in other mediums like sculpture and installation. I like discovering new ways to manipulate and push the limits of materials, which led me to use high heat, gravity, and the effect of time as sculptural methods. My work is constantly changing and transforming due to the passing of time. My objects are in an ongoing state of decay, and they age with time. This speaks to ideas of loss, mortality, and decay that are essential to my work. 

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?

I have been interested in the idea of “slow violence” and its impact on the body. It’s about the ways accumulating damage, invisible and visible, affects the body and the mind, as well as the environment, communities, and nature. “Slow” violence is the type of violence that happens over time and have an unobserved effect. I’m approaching this subject from ecological, psychological, and political perspectives, and have been reading some theory that draws a line between those subjects. The book “Arts Of Living On A Damaged Planet” is a great text I keep returning to for inspiration. Reading is a big part of my practice and helps me to expand and deepen my research. I am thinking a lot about the ways that our bodies respond to traumatic events and carry memories. I’m interested in the idea that trauma manifests in the body and is directly connected to our physical well-being, and that our body remembers things that are invisible to our mind. I plan to keep investigating this subject and continue creating work that deals with this from different points of view.

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?

Yes, I am working on a few projects and collaborations in addition to my studio practice at the moment. Art education is a huge passion of mine, and I am excited to be involved in projects related to this field. I recently joined as a board member of UCAE (University Councils for Art Education), and help plan and organize events to enrich art education workers and create a community of people who are involved in art education. Similarly to my artistic practice, teaching for me is an ongoing process of learning. As a young educator, I constantly seek a community to share my process with and be a part of, so I was very excited about being a part of this organization and helping to create content and organize educational events for the community. Teaching at Columbia University after I graduated has been an experience that helped me deepen my idea of art and education. While teaching I started asking myself what is the greatest value I teach my students - to me, it’s not just the skills and knowledge, but the sense of community, solidarity, and mutual respect that is formed through group critiques and collaborations. I also work on other community-driven projects, like a site-specific installation I created in collaboration with a group of international artists in an alternative art space in Yonkers. 

Have you had any epiphanies recently that have changed the course of your work or caused you to shift directions?

My practice is heavily influenced by personal experiences and at the same time, it is reactive to everything that is happening in the world around me. Last year I had to move to a new studio, where I didn’t have access to facilities that allowed safe air ventilation and other resources. I had to rethink ways to make work in a way that will be experimental and creatively stimulating, and at the same time safe in a new environment. I was grateful to be able to make work using facilities that made it safe in my previous studio. Working with heavy-duty materials, like plastic, fiberglass, resin, and other industrial materials, using high heat and other potentially toxic methods was made possible due to the conditions of the space that I was in. When I moved to a new studio, I had to take into consideration safety issues and continued my practice using more sustainable materials and methods. I started collecting recycled insulations like cotton fibers and other natural materials and working with them to create translucent surfaces.  

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 started my MFA at Columbia a few months before the pandemic started, and for about 6 months, I did not have access to my studio and the program’s facilities. I had to make work from home, which is very difficult while living in a small room in a shared apartment. For a few months, I had to direct my creative energy to other directions and explore new means of expression. It was an important part of my creative journey that led me to where I am today. I had to do a lot of searching, try new things, and let myself make mistakes. I started writing and making short videos, collages, and drawings. I started collecting objects and materials that interested me, and when I gained back access to my studio, everything was different. I felt a sense of urgency and precariousness and had an urge to make bigger and more complex work. 

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 am currently reading The Wrench by Primo Levi - it’s a novel that reveals a collection of interconnected stories exchanged between the two main characters, who are construction workers working on different sites around the world. The thing that I found most striking about this novel is the compassionate and tender descriptions of machinery, infrastructure, and industrial construction sites. Their everyday troubles and challenges at work are described as forensic investigations, using bodily and almost medical language. It made me think about the ways that we perceive spaces, the human body, and moreover, the world around us like a body. This is a concept I’ve been interested in recently, and reading mostly academic texts trying to define it. It was refreshing to discover how a philosophical concept is described so elegantly in literature. 

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 love supporting artist-run spaces, and recently visited The Border Project Space, an independent gallery in Bushwick that had a wonderful installation by artist Kyoko Hamaguchi. She utilized time in her installation in a very interesting way and I was drawn to the morbid, yet playful aspects of it. I am excited to check out one of my favorite artists - Doreen Lynette Garner’s show at the New Museum soon.

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

Be as generous with others as you wished everyone was with you. It is true for life in general, and especially for navigating the art world. We tend to think of an artist as an individual, working alone, but in reality, we are all a part of a network, a community, and we coexist in an ecosystem where we flourish when we lift each other up. As an immigrant woman, I feel like this is a radical act to support other individuals and marginalized communities. Solidarity is the biggest power of artists who are fighting against oppression of any kind. I appreciate people who create opportunities for others and share resources and I try to do so when I can.

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

I am working on multiple projects at the moment that I’ll be very excited to share soon. I have a site-specific installation I am working on, and a curatorial project coming up that will take place in an alternative art space I’m excited to explore. This project is coming together after months of planning and working in collaboration with fellow international artists. I’m participating in a group show at the Border Project Space in Bushwick, curated by Jamie Martinez, and working on a new piece to be exhibited there.  

To find out more about Noga Cohen check out her Instagram and website.