Hook, 2022. Acrylic and glass beads on paper, dura-lar, and clear vinyl. 48 x 36 x 2.5 inches.

Elise Thompson

BIO

Elise Thompson received a BFA from Northern Kentucky University in 2010 and an MFA at Florida State University in 2016. She attended the Boom Gallery Fellowship + Residency in Cincinnati, OH, in 2015 via an FSU Exceptional Opportunities award and received the Mary Ola Reynolds Miller Scholarship in Visual Arts in 2016. Additional residencies include Vermont Studio Center, The Wassaic Artist Residency, The Maple Terrace Artist Residency Program, DNA Artist Residency, and Stay Home Gallery + Residency. Thompson was published in New American Paintings South in 2016 and Friend of the Artist vol. 8 in 2019 with an interview by artist Taylor O. Thomas. She was featured as an "artist to watch" in VAST Magazine vol. 1 in 2020 and interviewed by Innovate Grant in 2022. Recent exhibitions include The Spartanburg Art Museum (SC), The Wassaic Project (NY), 500x (TX), Paradice Palase (NYC), Laundromat Art Space (FL), and Westobou Gallery (GA). She lives and works in Brooklyn, NY.

ARTIST STATEMENT

Sheer, layered surfaces call on the intricacies of transparency, both physical and figurative. Areas of these wall-bound works showing restraint emphasize the frame and details below, but through varying degrees of obscured visibility with translucent materials. Many attributes can be withheld or disguised through censored effects or outright obstruction when deciphering what is beneath. Segmented architectural arches, fields, and nets seen below, between, and above allude to a desire for control. Also present are perceived or physical voids, which mirror cartoonish mouths or moments of vulnerability. Alongside structural planes and organic passages, the gaps become part of the image while also disrupting and diffusing. References to entrances and exits hint at places to traverse or be barred from physically or psychologically. Clear or muted communication and the history of past moves are explored through abstraction, filtered via a broad investigation of disclosure. Through semi-symmetrical gestures of concealing and revealing, these competing tendencies reflect the desire to remain private or explicitly share. The resulting images are often quirky, vaguely referential, and even eerie.

Interview with Elise Thompson

Pool, 2021. Acrylic and glass beads on paper, dura-lar, and clear vinyl. 31.25 x 24 x 2.5 inches.

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?

Growing up, I was a "child athlete" in competitive figure skating and dance. I even homeschooled for a couple of years to train full-time at the rink. After a series of stress fractures in my back and years of physical therapy, it made sense to go back to school despite my tantrums. As a kid, you mourn significant changes like that! It wasn't until I started to part ways with figure skating that I took my first legitimate art class in my late junior year of high school. I drew and doodled A LOT but had no formal training. And when I say a lot, I mean that there are still boxes and boxes of drawings at my parents' place, sometimes of the same images repeated again and again. Early influences in high school and undergrad were mostly figurative painters like Eve Mansdorf, Euan Uglow, Antonio López García, Ann Gale, Jenny Saville, George Tooker, and Jenny Saville. Not sure any of these make sense now at first glance with where my work has ended up, but I can look back and can say definitively that their atmospheric paint handling and penchant for either the eerie in concept and ghosting/movement in image appealed to me then and now.

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

I was pretty bent out of shape about having to quit figure skating. Maybe I still have a chip on my shoulder! I felt like my dreams as a young athlete were dashed over things outside of my control. Multiple growth spurts, injuries, etc., left me feeling betrayed by my own body. In that first art class in high school, when I was feeling low about what I was supposed to do, I realigned my priorities after the heartbreak of a sport that couldn't love me back. Drawing and painting gave me a new discipline to pour myself into since "having a discipline" is how I operate.

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'm based in Brooklyn, NY, as of 2019. I knew I wanted to move to NYC in 2016, but it didn't line up for another couple of years. I graduated with my MFA from Florida State University. I stayed in town to teach, run a studio, and co-direct a non-profit gallery with fellow artist friend Haley Lauw. I also attended a few artist residencies in the meantime: Vermont Studio Center, Wassaic Project, and The Maple Terrace Artist Residency Program. Those residencies solidified my decision. I made so many connections based in NYC, so when I finally moved, I already had a network of fellow artist friends to "come home" to upon arrival.

The city has changed my work for the better. I have access to so much here; exhibitions, artists, historic architecture, materials, etc. I had been shipping Guerra Paint and Pigment products to myself for years, and now I can walk to them. The industrial and architectural nature of many neighborhoods has informed my work via design, infrastructure of the frame, and palette. There's an additional underpinning of darkness to the work now that comes from staying here through 2020 to the present; the city's collective experience of loss and uncertainty over the past few years has affected the ambiance of the images I'm producing.

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?

I have a live/work right now, which has many pros and cons like any studio situation. When it comes to balancing my day job(s) with my studio practice, the live/work is ideal. Extra time and energy commuting to the studio gets taken out of the equation, alleviating a lot of stress. I can work later and longer, and I spend less time figuring out how to sustain myself all day offsite. Crucial aspects that make my studio function are windows, not so much for light but for ventilation. I do a lot of airbrushing to achieve smooth and sheer passes on a surface. The medium is non-toxic, but I still have to mind paint particulates in the air. A reasonably clean studio is also essential because I'm dealing with glass-like surfaces that can show a lot of flaws. I also tend to work on the floor a lot (I know, I know..), so the wood flooring of my studio is covered with foam mats for kneeling or, you know, just laying down occasionally. It's still "studio time" even if you're just lying there.

Gut, 2022. Acrylic and glass beads on paper, dura-lar, and clear vinyl. 32 x 24 x 2.5 inches.

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

Typical weekday: I wake up and do conditioning/physical therapy for my back. Figure skating and dance haunt me! I work remotely for my job at a creative agency as a creative/design development manager, so I'm in and out of virtual meetings, doing research, checking in with my resources, and doing whatever else needs doing all day. There are gaps where I can fit in the studio, take a long walk, or do some admin for myself. I occasionally teach remotely for FSU, so I'll fit that in too. Evening hits; if it's a "studio" evening, that's the priority. I'll work until about 8-9 pm; I make time to eat because I can't stand being hungry, and then sometimes I keep going until 10 or 11 pm. Lately, I try to call it quits by 10 pm during the week. Weekends are sort of a free-for-all. Maybe it's studio all day; perhaps I'm out and about; maybe I'm "resting". It's all important, even when you think you're "doing nothing". For example, I hardly made anything in the studio in 2020 when I saw so many friends really cranking. Sometimes you can't. It's 2022, and I suddenly feel like I'm making good moves. Maybe all that "doing nothing" wasn't nothing, you know? I try to tell myself, "don't beat yourself up so much", and forcing the process doesn't help me produce my best work.

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

It can take several hours to get into a groove. Sometimes I have to start by doing something not so creative, like organizing and cleaning while listening to music or a podcast. It can even be process based or procedural, like cutting stencils or illustration board. I have to just be in the studio doing SOMETHING, anything. Often the right music can help, whether it's something I'm fixated on right now, or something from the past that triggers "that feeling" of a time and place, which is like a high. I usually can't go a day without my espresso maker and seltzer (basic, I know), and having a live/work allows me to eat spoonful’s of peanut butter WHENEVER I want. Okay, I could have all the coffee, the seltzer, and the peanut butter outside of a live/work, but you get it. I like a one-stop shop so I can just "go".

Is there anything that interrupts and stagnates your creative energy?

Being hungry is incredibly distracting. I often joke that my life revolves around my art practice, but "food is #1." I'm lucky to have access and the ability to afford a myriad of snacks.

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

I've worked with chiffon and clear vinyl since 2014, beginning in grad school. In late 2013 and early 2014, I worked with poured sheets of cured paint, both acrylic, and latex. I'd peel up the sheets and drape, hang, and fold the material as a sculptural object. I liked covering furniture or recognizable items as an armature that could be abstracted when concealed by "drapery". I eventually wanted to make paintings on the frame again (back to the rectangle), knowing that paint without a substrate is fragile. Clear vinyl provided a surface that could support paint while receding behind and between layers. It's essentially a clear medium re: paint re: paint. I loved how paint appeared to "float" casting shadows on the wall while also playing with how light reflects and refracts through different applied mediums. Introducing dry particulates like glass beads and mica provide even more fun optical effects and textures that pair well with transparency. It's been almost 9 years, and I'm still surprised by these materials.

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

I usually begin with small works on paper to work out composition, color palette, and other image aspects before starting with a painting on the frame, which I now have made 3 inches deep. I'll photograph the "sketch", throw it in Photoshop, and continue chopping it up. I'll use sketches and mockups as the foundation for the painting frame, picking and choosing which sections to build under the surface, between, and above. I use cut illustration board and watercolor paper as sculptural planes installed in the frame to make up the image infrastructure for what I want to recede. Sometimes, I'll make a fully finished work on illustration board or watercolor paper and THEN cut that up into pieces to rearrange. It's a literal act of push/pull and construct/deconstruct/reconfigure. Painted cut dura-lar and clear vinyl add extra translucent, intersecting gestures that obscure and play with the depth of the frame. Once the infrastructure is settled, I stretch the clear vinyl and make another painting on top. Basically, I'm making several paintings on top of one another, choosing which parts to obscure and which to leave visible through the additive process of collage.

Flood, 2022. Acrylic and glass beads on paper, dura-lar, and clear vinyl. 48 x 36 x 3 inches.

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 make paintings where what is seen, how it's seen, and the process of making what is seen are all linked to the idea of disclosure and interiority. The images can illustrate a place to enter or be barred from. Moments at the edges of the painting call on Italian Renaissance works where a scene is framed by architecture containing and leading the eye to the center. Many of the shapes and textures I employ compel, repel, or do both simultaneously, depending on a viewer's associations with colors and consistencies. My interest in textures that allude to food or the body comes from being a figurative painter for many years, and the ideas I'm conveying are psychological. I've also come up with a lexicon or legend for moves; for example, an "arch" (rainbow oriented) is an "invitation" or "access". An "upside-down arch" can be seen as "closing" or "shutting". A "net" or "grid" is a protective wall, sometimes intact or falling apart—patterns inspired by camouflage play into this move. Frosted layers speak to ambiguity, lack of clarity, or guarded information. Some of these are obvious or can be semantically interpreted differently by another viewer. I'm thinking about communication; clear, muted, or something in between that can either help or hinder a message. What do you keep private or explicitly share with someone? On top of this, for image and palette, I have a fun time looking at hokey sci-fi illustrations from the 1950-80s. They're funny, beautiful, and unsettling, which is sort of where I want these paintings to live; flipping between different seemingly opposing zones.

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?

My day job is with a creative agency, where one of the main reasons a client comes to us is that they seek a new brand identity through strategy and positioning. Essentially, they are looking for a way to successfully communicate to their consumers that they are "for you" and appeal to "your wants and needs". Tackling audience perception enables us to solve this issue, which really falls on successful communication. I can see how this job relates to what I'm thinking about with my work, but I'm often trying to send a message through varying levels of visibility where information is optically complicated. Paintings stacked on paintings with layers that constantly intersect and obfuscate play into the idea of a "muddied message", or maybe even a game telephone. Perhaps that makes me the "bad client" who needs help, haha.

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


I think sketching and planning before diving in has changed the kind of paintings I pursue lately. I just started defining what certain "moves" might mean within the work regarding visual vocabulary—also employing "byproducts" as gestures. For example, I airbrush, and lately, I've been priming my plastic sheeting with a transparent medium to capture ambient "off spray" to transfer onto my work's surface. Brand new moves are always welcome.

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?


My takeaway from this period has been that "rise and grind" is a fallacy, and you don't have to work every day as a marker of your dedication or legitimacy as a maker. If your most productive or fruitful hours happen within a 4-hour timespan per day in the studio, why "work" for 8? Take a break. Embrace your long morning routine if that's what you need. Step outside of yourself and evaluate how you work best. It will not be the same as your peer or enemy or peer or enemy. I've been trying to compare myself less to others lately. The way I make paintings takes time, I'm physically building an image that is three-dimensional, and if I'm not cranking out 5 finished paintings per week like someone else, I just have to remind myself that how I'm doing what I'm doing is right for me. I will make your deadline, I promise, just don't judge my procedure and schedule :)

Cycle, 2022. Acrylic and glass beads on paper, dura-lar, and clear vinyl. 48 x 36 x 2.5 inches.

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

Various mid-century to contemporary sci-fi illustrators like Shigeo Okamoto, Pater Sato, Cosimo Galluzzi, George Greaves, and Karel Thole. The Agnes's: Agnes Martin for subtle shifts and lines, and Agnes Pelton and her transcendental landscapes. Craig Kauffman's abstract, vacuum-formed, translucent reliefs. Leslie Wayne's sculptural oil paintings and window-like compositions. Harvey Quaytman's shaped, arched substrates. Lynda Benglís and how she uses paint as a sculptural material. Eva Hesse for her bodily, sensual, post-minimal abstraction. Carrie Moyer's abstract pours and masking. The way Deborah Remington masks shapes and employs gradients. I also love cartoons and animation from my childhood, like Don Bluth films, Miyazaki films, The Simpsons, and background scenes from Looney Toons.

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 still thinking about Diane Simpson's solo show at JTT in 2021 titled "Point of View". Her sculptures really "wow" me. Referencing banisters, windows, and other human-scale architectural elements elicited many feelings I didn't expect. They are playful, funny, and strange, leaving me slightly unsettled. Maybe it's something uncanny? I'm not sure if this is a "left field" pick based on the work I make, but I appreciate her built forms and use of minimal pattern and finish. They're so elegant.

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

Make mistakes! Impulsively do something in the studio! Try your bad ideas, so they are at least out of your head and in the world. Otherwise, you'll keep thinking about them and never really know.

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

I'm just trying to make new work right now. I just mounted a 3-person show at Westobou Gallery curated by Allison Westerfield with Lucia Riffel and Brittany M. Watkins this summer with 7 new paintings. I'm trying to keep things going with ChaNorth Artist Residency this past August. I'm curating a booth at Spring Break Art Show in September with artists Katie Hubbell and Lauren Walkiewicz, a virtual studio visit with Paradice Palase on October 19th, and DNA Residency the last week of October. Who knows what's next or what will fall in between or what will ? If I don't have something on the calendar, I get nervous. But then again, maybe a period of rest is in order.

Bluff, 2022. Acrylic and glass beads on paper, dura-lar, and clear vinyl. 36 x 24 x 3 inches.

To find out more about Elise Thompson check out her Instagram and website.