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A journal for storytelling, arguments, and discovery through tangential conversations.
A Conversation with Adrienne Crossman
Tuesday, September 27, 2016 | Luther Konadu

 

 

 

 

 

 

What is a queer environment? What does it entail? What does it look like? or what does it even mean to have a queer environment? These are just some of the questions multidisciplinary artist Adrienne Crossman's current work incites. Crossman is thoughtfully immersed with discovering what a queer space or object involves and what it's like to transverse through a society that is heavily set around binaries. Employing familiar pop culture objects like Tiger Electronic’s Furby toys, Crossman re-contextualizes them as queer objects situating the Furby aside from any binary category. Formerly Toronto-based and now living in Winsdor, Crossman recently exhibited new works that centered around these ideas as part of her solo show—Fear of a Queer Planet—at Toronto’s The White House Studio Project. Crossman is a very busy, having already completed four residencies this year alone, she’s also a curator, she's put together a number of exhibitions for Xpace Cultural Centre, made official music videos for the likes of Toronto's Austra and Pale Eyes, created live projection visuals for bands like Alvvays and Lido Pimienta and is currently in the middle of her MFA at the University of Windsor. We were very lucky to get some time with Crossman while we were in Windsor early this summer. We spoke to her among other things, about her trajectory to creating the work she currently creates, how she thinks through the work she makes, and how she's been able to consistently create and show her own work after being out of art school for over four years. 

 

 

 

 

 

"...furbies are marketed as being these weird alien creatures. They are not really animals or humans, they are not dead but not alive either, they aren’t gendered or representative of any race. To me, they are just queer objects that defy categorization. I began working with their image and became more and more attracted to them. My ideas surrounding these objects are not totally resolved which is what kind of drew me to them to be able to work through those different ideas. To me they are my queer object of choice. I’m just interested in working with them and creating environments that they could inhabit."

 

 

 

 

Luther Konadu: What were some of your interests you wanted to work on coming into the residency? [The Emerging Art Research Residency at the University of Windsor]

 

Adrienne Crossman: Last year I was awarded an Emerging Artist grant through the Toronto Arts Council, which is meant to support your practice. Under that grant I was proposing a new body of work that I’m now working on here in Windsor.

 

Adrienne Crossman: I’m working with 3d modeling, teaching myself how to navigate the programs along with the help of online tutorials. I mostly work digitally so part of my Residency proposal was to start to frame the digital way I work within the physical realm. I didn’t come at the proposal from a concrete direction, more so from a number of different ideas that I’m working through now. The body of work I’m focused on is based around ideas of queerness through the re-contextualization of familiar imagery, including pop cultural and art historical references.

 

 

Photo by Katie Huckson 

 

 

Luther Konadu: Tell me about your collection of creatures [referring to her collection on her desk as we speak].

 

Adrienne Crossman: These are McDonald's Furbies, full size Furby originals,  and Shelbies. I 3D printed one of them and casted two others in aluminum. A lot of the work I do is about searching out and creating queer sensibilities or queer environments with everyday objects or pop culture artifacts. I also find myself going back to nostalgic objects; toys that I had when I was a kid. In the summer of 2015 I started working on a piece for a space-themed exhibition and based my work on the Pioneer Plaque, which is this plaque that NASA sent out to communicate with aliens about what humanity is on earth. The original rendering essentially looks like two able bodied white people; with barely any genitals and they look very conservative and heteronormative. I wanted to queer it and create more of an inclusive rendering. I was then faced with the question of how to actually do that with humans. It’s impossible to draw a representation of people without excluding—you can’t draw a human that looks like every human; no matter what rendering you do it’s going to be exclusive. So then I created ‘Queer Planet,’ which is my take on the original. 

 

 

NASA's Pioneer Plaque. The first plaque was launched with Pioneer 10 on March 2, 1972, 

 

 

 

 

"Queer Planet", 2016 ; Crossman's updated inclusive version Pioneer Plaque from Fear of a queer planet series.

 

 

I chose furbies because they are marketed as being these weird alien creatures. They are not really animals or humans, they are not dead but not alive either, they aren’t gendered or representative of any race. To me, they are just queer objects that defy categorization. I began working with their image and became more and more attracted to them. My ideas surrounding these objects are not totally resolved which is what kind of drew me to them to be able to work through those different ideas. To me they are my queer object of choice. I’m just interested in working with them and creating environments that they could inhabit.

 

 

LK: I really enjoy the way you are thinking through your ideas and recontextualizing them with these objects. In a way you are letting us see things in a way we typically won’t be able to see.

 

 

AC: Yeah, thank you. I can remember reading about objects that are inanimate but possess life like tendencies and the range of empathy that humans start to feel for these objects made out of plastic and fur. Once the object starts to have a face or something human-like your start to feel for it and I find that interesting. It occupies this weird space of it being between animate versus inanimate especially when furbies can speak and move. I’m really interested in things that exist between binaries and categories.

 

 

 

 

Pieces from Crossman's solo show: Fear of a Queer Planet, 2016 

 

 

LK: What kind of work were you doing before this?

 

AC: I was mostly doing video work before getting into this body of work. A lot of my video work uses glitch techniques which to me embody a very queer aesthetic, occupying this in-between space in that I am actually corrupting the files. I force the frames to bleed into one another as a way of separating the boundaries of edits and cuts. I’m also interested in queering the digital medium itself which consists of a binary language. I know I can’t actually do it and produce a working file, but I’m interested in doing it conceptually through glitching video files. It’s something I’m still working on alongside this current project.

 

LK: Is this a way you’ve been working for a while?

 

AC: Yeah, I think I started that technique in my final year of undergrad and I’ve been slowly developing it since.

 

 

 

"Queerness is such an umbrella term. What does it mean to be queer? It can define so many things and so many people. So I don’t find having a queer practice limiting."

 

 

LK: What got you to working within video in the first place?

 

AC: I thought I wanted to get into film and video ever since I was little. I went to Sheridan College for a bit and that program directs you straight into the film and media industry, but I realized that was too limiting for me. I then went to OCAD, which allowed me to experiment with different mediums and ideas. I worked on a couple of narrative short features. I later realized I was more interested in video as an experimental art form. I was more interested in the work in galleries rather than in screenings.

 

LK: So you are not interested in viewers starting from beginning to end per se?

 

 

AC: For a lot of my work, you don’t have to watch the whole thing; although the videos are typically under 10 minutes. The glitch videos have a painterly quality to them, which I view more as work on the wall that moves, so you can choose to look it for as little or long as you want to get the idea.

 

 

 

 

Installation view: Plant Series 1; There Should Be Gardens at InterAccess, 2015 [Crossman's earlier video works] Photos by Yuula Benivolski

 

 

LK: Looking back, how do you see your experience at OCAD?

AC: I had a really positive experience. I was in the Integrated Media program. It’s a smaller program but it covers a range of disciplines; such as performance video, electronics, installation etc. The program had the widest range of electives, and it allowed me to try a lot of different processes. I’ve been out for four years now and I’m starting my MFA in the Fall at the University of Windsor.

 

LK: How has it been to be a practicing artist, making your own work after being out of school for that long?

AC: I was really lucky, the year I graduated, I applied for a residency through Xpace Cultural Centre and they sent me and another artist to Syracuse, New York for a month for each of us to make a body of work and then have an exhibition the following September. That was my first residency and it happened a month after I graduated so it kind of forced me to keep making work. Also because we had a deadline for a show a couple months later, it forced me to produce a new body of work. It was also my first exhibition at a gallery that I received an artist fee for. That whole experience motivated me to keep going and never to stop. I also kept in touch with OCAD and worked as a Teacher’s Assistant. When a job opening at Xpace came up I applied there as well so I kept myself integrated within the art community. Toronto also has a lot of music events where artists are invited to display visuals, so I did a couple of those as well. It was all just being within the community and taking advantage of little opportunities like that. And the more I did, I started to get curated into shows and it kept going.

                                                          

 

"I’m more interested in queerness as a sensibility rather than representing a marginalized group of people."

 

   

LK: Did you think you were ever going to do your MFA?

AC: I always had it in the back of my mind. I’m glad I waited and did my own thing for a while, working at a gallery and gaining experience.  However, I’ve also always liked teaching; I’ve taught a handful of workshops and worked as a Teaching Assistant and I’ve really enjoyed doing all of that. So, I wanted to get further on that track.

 

LK: How’s making work and living in Toronto like for you and how has it influenced what you do?

AC: There’s a very thriving emerging art scene in Toronto. There’s also a number of opportunities for video and digital artists to screen their work in alternative settings. That has molded the way I’ve shown my work and sometimes why I make it because there are venues and events that are consistently curating video/digital works to be shown. I’m also around so many people who are always producing that it’s motivated my own work ethic. But also, being in Windsor I can get so much more done because there’s less going on and there’s less pressure to go to other people’s shows. It’s kind of a mix—Toronto is great but it can be almost too much. I’m looking forward to being away from the city for a bit.

 

LK: A lot of people that enter into MFA program typically see their work take a drastic change. Given you’ve been working independently for some time, how open are you to seeing your work towards a completely different direction?

AC: I assume there will be shifts and influence from the program itself; which I’m looking forward to because I feel like I’m working with a lot of ideas and I could definitely use some feedback and direction. My work is rooted in queer theory and feminist theory so I’m looking forward to having faculty members refer readings to me to further support my practice. But I am very open to explorations and open to failure.

 

LK: Some artists are disinclined to making work about a social group that they are from or associated with because they believe they might be pigeonholed or be defined by just that. Do you find that saying you are doing queer specific work is limiting in any way to you as artist?

 

AC: I guess I’m more interested in queerness as a sensibility rather than representing a marginalized group of people. I am a queer person, I identify as nonbinary. I know there is marginalization within that but I’m also really interested in the flip side of it; A: showing alternatives to normativity, meaning alternatives to “natural” and hetero-normative culture. I think it’s interesting to poke holes through these concepts that have just been fabricated and using queerness as a tool for that. And B: using queerness both conceptually and aesthetically, representing more of a feeling, an inherent sensibility that an object or an action can possess. Queerness is such an umbrella term. What does it mean to be queer? It can define so many things and so many people. So I don’t find having a queer practice limiting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Queer Still Life, 2016 

 

 

 

LK: Work that talks about specific minority groups sometimes get criticized for not representing that community or group in totality or accurately. Do you find that since you are interested in a specific community you might be doing it justice or might not represent the entire community ?

 

 

AC: I want my work to be accessible and I don’t want anyone viewing it to feel like it’s not for them. I went to a talk by visual artist Walter Scott, and he talked about this Trojan horse mentality of making something that kind of looks like one thing on the surface but when you actually get into it, it's about all these other things. I feel like a lot of my work has the appearance of being very colorful and fun, and the furbies possess a kitchy cute/ nostlagic appeal.  It can attract people on a surface level, but if someone wants to read or learn more about the material it is there for them.

 

 

Pieces from Crossman's solo show: Fear of a Queer Planet, 2016

 

 

LK: I think that’s a really good way to approach it and allow for an open conversation that way.

 

AC: Yes, and in that way it can be appreciated on different levels. I’m totally fine with people appreciating it  because they think the work is funny or is colourful but also if they want to know more about it then that’s even better.

 

LK: Can you remember an early memory of making any kind of creative work? and what did you make?

 

AC: I remember my parents putting me through this art camp when I was fairly young for a couple of summers. I was interested in drawing. I don’t really remember the first time I expressed this interest but I remember one time earlier on doing a chalk pastel drawing of an orangutan. I remember my mom using hair spray as a seal to set the chalk and then she framed it. In high school I did a watercolor of my parents house and they loved it so much they got it professionally framed.

 

LK: Is there something you’ve been currently curious about?

 

 

AC: I feel like I’m curious about a lot of things. I guess I’m really curious as to what a queer environment is and what it means. I’m also interested in how failure can be productive.

 


Cover image of Crossman taken by 
Rebecca Welbourn