Deborah Gardner’s practice is process-led, materiality, multiplicity and mutability are key themes. Proximity and distance, surface tension and scale play vital roles in encountering the work; for example, a recent work concerning imagining the surface of the far side of the moon considered ways to collapse a cosmological scale to a human dimension or in another work inspiration came from studying botanical structures. Her sculptures consider the vibrancy of cell, plant and geological structures and our relationships with them, such as imagining plant life in future environments. Many sculptures explore networkable assemblages, such as hives and colonies and the growth structures of physical phenomena and are especially interested in the power of adaptability as an ongoing sculptural process.
Self-taught or art school?
My art education spanned various institutions, which I am now grateful to have experienced their differences; my pre-degree foundation course was at a small art school, my undergraduate degree at art college and my Master of Fine Art at university.
If you could own one work of art what would it be?
I possibly have a list of 10-20 most desired works, which changes the order of preference at various points in my life, but, Picasso’s 1914 ‘Glass of Absinthe’ series of sculptures has confused, satisfied and intrigued me in equal measure since my art school days. Since I have only experienced the work through both analogue and digital images, I would cherish the chance to physically experience it and I would only need one of the series of six, its small scale would be most versatile in that I could place it in many spaces around my home to experience and encounter it in many ways.
How would you describe your style?
The focus in my practice is the transformative and generative processes of matter and sculpture practice; my work often has a multiplicity and roundness of form, and structures, which explore propagation, emergence, and instability, form a certain ‘style’ in my work.
Can you tell us about your artistic process?
My work is process and materially led; it begins with a curiosity to experience a certain type of form and a basic idea as to how to build the infrastructure leaving an open-endedness for expansion should it need it. The process should always be open to adaptation and alteration according to the emerging outcomes, I suppose I would call it an embodied sense-making. Weight, balance, unforeseen qualities of the materials determine pathways in consolidating the work. Photographing the work, spending time being with the work and looking at it and thinking about it before leaving the studio is a positive way to end a day.
Is narrative important within your work?
Narration is not a primary method in my sculptural practice, however, I am very interested in non-linear narratives caused by the juxtapositions of various objects and materials, for example. Similarly, and most recently, hypotheses or stories on imagined future environments, landscapes and their resultant forms have driven the impetus to make an artwork.
Who are your favourite artists and why?
Jannis Kounellis, Isa Genzken, Sarah Sze, Phyllida Barlow, Franz West and Jessica Stockholder to name a few. Their works share a fascinating ability to assemble and shape combinations of non-art materials, live materials, found materials and industrial materials into absurd, precarious, transformative, and visceral sculptures. Ultimately, their work is brave, inventive, exploratory, and non-descriptive.
What or who inspires your art?
There are so many things that inspire my art, staring through a microscope at various botanical or cell solutions, watching the same chestnut bud unfold and transform on a daily walk, considering the encoded structural principles of plants or the surface tension of bubbles or imagining what the surface of the far side of the moon looks like. The extraordinariness of every day is key, tree branches reflected in a car windscreen, for example, or the way an old textile mill chimney can act as a navigational marker across a landscape; ultimately, inspiration comes from contemporary experiences, which cause a meditation on the nature and perception of our world.
Where’s your studio and what’s it like?
My studio operates between two sites; a small former dairy room, which is part of a 400-year-old farmhouse on a down-to-earth, working farm. The space is tight and crammed full of my stuff but is a haven with a view of the West Yorkshire countryside outside my door that has sustained me through these recent lockdowns. The other site is my kitchen table, often used for making smaller works and easy accessibility in the evening.
Do you have any studio rituals?
First, I set out the materials and equipment I imagine will be used that day in the practice and form a basic plan of action, which directs my time, but does not predict procedure and outcome. I ensure I have space and conditions necessary for the making and scale of an imagined work. I have learnt over the years that organisation is key to enable the creation and therefore allow unpredicted and exciting results. At the end of the studio time, I sweep up and clean up enough to maintain some semblance of order and designated workspace for my next visit.
What are you working on currently?
A set of works inspired by studying the form and nature of poisonous plants as part of an exploration of our relationship with the plant kingdom. I am also working in collaboration with a scientist in exploring the commonalities between studio and laboratory practices and methodologies.
Where can we buy your art?
By contacting me directly at www.deborahgardner.co.uk
