"I’m fascinated by the power that comes from creating desire"
Edition 15: An interview with painter-ceramicist Jen Dwyer
Jen Dwyer at her studio in Torrington, CT (image courtesy of Jen Dwyer)
My eyes are like magpies for color. As much as I admire people with Instagram-perfect neutral homes, all shades of wood and sandstone and white flowing serenely, I can’t help but gravitate towards bright splashes across the Pantone spectrum: in my clothes (my favorite neon chartreuse sweater), house stuff (deep blue couch, Tiffany green stairwell) and art.
I had a mish mash of influences growing up that may have contributed. Our house was designed by my father, a Virgo who came of age in the 1960s and was heavily influenced by the likes of Dieter Rams — a lot of monochrome, not a lot of pattern; but the place was also punctuated by big, bold colorful statements: the double height wall in my parents’ sitting room is dominated by a huge, abstract painting inspired by Tibetan prayer flags; their garden has walls painted mango and raspberry peeking out from behind the vines. Plus, we took regular trips to art museums like the Tate to luxuriate in the likes of David Hockney and Matisse — literal masters of the color.
Today, my colorful heroes include Nicolas Party, Kerry James Marshall, Henry Taylor and Alice Neel (more subtle, but still so beautiful — the blue outline of her portrait of an older, vulnerable Warhol — ahhh.) So, I was drawn to one particular artist in the recent Hudson Valley Artists Exhibition at the Samuel Dorsky Museum: Jen Dwyer. Her paintings jump out at you with their hue overload — color as object, person, shadow and light. They are unrelentingly bright and playful, with a pastel palette that makes you feel like you tumbled into a candy store.
When I did some digging on Jen I soon realized that she is also a unique ceramicist. The irrepressible abundance and sense of play that comes to life via color in her paintings, also appears in her 3D objects: candlesticks so piled with detail they seem like they might topple over; decadent, ridiculous flower-shaped knuckle dusters; creepy, gold nailed-hands growing out of the side of a sad-faced radio; vagina incense burners. Often she paints on the sculptures, with color and texture and bodies and faces and classical references and modern appliances all mushed up next to each other, in a delightful rebuttal of our Scandi-lite norms of “cool.”
Jen recently bought her first studio in the Hudson Valley (technically in Torrington, Connecticut, but we’ll allow it) after many years in NYC. In 2020, she did a couple of residencies at the esteemed Wassaic Project in historic Wassaic, NY, and is now taking part in a virtual residency at the Museum of Arts & Design in NYC. And I am now the proud owner of one of her paintings, which she sweetly personifies: When I chose my particular painting of a blue lady reclining, Jen texted “She’s my fav.” These simplified but strangely relatable lady figures pop up throughout Jen’s work — some watching Netflix, or doing yoga with an ice cream, or sitting in a seashell, or playing the guitar. I like to think they are Jen, in life and her imagination.
Here’s more from my chat with Jen on her work and inspiration.
A painting by Jen Dwyer, reclining in my house (image courtesy of AJ Lee)
AJL: Welcome to the Catskill Culture Club, Jen! Your work is so eye-catching, I’m dying to hear more about your inspirations. I know you love to “remix” different time periods and create cognitive dissonance by bringing things together that you wouldn’t expect. Tell me more about that.
JD: Hi Amy! Thanks so much for the thoughtful introduction. I am so honored that your colorful heroes include Nicolas Party, Kerry James Marshall, Henry Taylor and Alice Neel. I am a huge fan of all of those artists.
I’ve always been interested in contradictions in general, particularly when it comes to the ways taste and value are created and assigned. How that value changes over time and the power that comes from assigned said value, I find fascinating. Also, in an attempt to try to cohesively chat about my influences, I thought I’d break them down.
Artistic Hierarchies
I grew up in the Bay Area, CA so at a young age I was inspired by funk ceramic artists such as Viola Frey and Richard Shaw. I have loved art as long as I can remember but when I was sixteen I remember becoming really obsessed with it, especially ceramics. I began college in 2006 and studied ceramics; but, at the time, clay still felt like an outsider art form, and wasn't widely exhibited by galleries and Museums like it is today. It has been interesting to observe the shift in taste of ceramics over the years.
In general, I’m really fascinated by the power that taste-makers create and the hierarchy that comes from creating desire. For example, just in my 33 year old life I’ve already seen such a big shift in the hierarchy and demand of ceramics. Also, when I began writing my thesis in grad school a couple of years ago, and took a deep dive into the history of porcelain, of which there are many, I was particularly fascinated by the Rococo Aesthetic; thus the porcelain artworks in the 17th & 18th century. Particularly in France, the Sevres factory and the Porcelain they produced were once in very high demand and seen as a status symbol of wealth and a highly desired commodity. During this time, porcelain was considered white gold. However, today when we look at these porcelain objects, vases, urns, little figurines, they could be described as gaudy or kitsch and hard to look at for our modern eyes. Learning about the shift in taste and desire and demand over the years and centuries — taking a step back, I find that it’s easy to essentially feel what is in demand today is somewhat arbitrary. There’s kind of a freeing feeling to know that the fashion, art, body, etc. that is desired will change and trying to fit into a mold doesn’t really matter.
Greek Mythology
I have always loved art history. Being dyslexic and having a reading disability, it was one of the few academic subjects that came easily to me because of the inherent story telling nature of it. Wanting to learn more about the overall history of vases, I discovered that in ancient Greek pottery the paintings on the vases were stories about Greek Mythology. I found it to be an indirect way to question contemporary gender dynamics. I’d always loved the strong female characters/ goddesses in Greek Mythology and learning that they were painted onto the vases felt like an additional fascinating layer. There is so much blaming, shaming of women in Greek mythology: Many of the stories feel like a way to justify the patriarchy because of an overall fear of women.
A few mythologies that I’m particularly drawn to are the story of Persephone, who in Greek Mythology is blamed for why we have winter. Another mythology I think about frequently is Medusa. Even though she was very beautiful and many men wanted to be with her, out of respect for the goddess Athena, Medusa remained celibate. However, when Medusa was walking by the sea, Poseidon raped her in Athena’s temple and —because she was no longer a virgin — Athena punished Medusa by turning her into a monster with snake hair. I find the victim blaming and shaming of women in Greek Mythology to be a useful lens to talk about the “me too” movement and other sensitive gender topics.
Lastly, the final element in my work that I’ve been referencing lately is this idea of nostalgia and ways we remember things to be much sweeter than they were. It feels like a fantasy, a way to escape the current reality, to want things to go back to the way they were; because nostalgia is usually much sweeter than the actual event or time. This illusion of what is real and what is imagined also feels so fitting with the current time, not only the past year and a half of living in the virtual world of the pandemic, but even before that on social media. Deciphering what is curated is an illusion. It all feels confusing and hard to decipher but interesting to think about and how that confusion affects us in our day to day experiences, particularly when it comes to comparing ourselves and imposter syndrome.
Assorted ceramics by Jen Dwyer (image courtesy of Jen Dwyer)
AJL: Tell me about your color palette. How do you pick the colors for your work and who or what are your color inspirations?
JD: First and foremost, I love color. Even though it’s not something I always feel comfortable wearing or showing, color brings me joy. I doubled down using my pastel colored palette infused with crisp white and gold because I was referencing the 17/18th century Rococo palette. I also find the reactions and associations with color so intriguing. I remember my last critique in grad school in the spring of 2019: I had just made my largest sculpture and glazed it light pink, my professors hated it. Their visceral reaction made me want to use the color more. Or, at least research the child-like or girly connotation that is associated with light pink and lots of color in general, and also research the history of the color pink and the connotations it’s had throughout different centuries.
In the 19th century in England, pink was considered a lighter form of red. While men wore red uniforms, young boys wore pink ones. It wasn’t until the 1930/40s that pink became associated with young girls in the marketplace. With the help of advertising, by the 1940s it was standardized that pink was for young girls. I’m fascinated by the fact that pink as a gender norm for girls is less than a century old.
I also think there’s an abject quality in using too much color, like eating a piece of chocolate cake — it's delicious, but if you want too much you can feel very ill. Similar to color that can have such a juicy, bodily appearance, what happens when color becomes too sugary sweet and its even repulsive. I like thinking about how much of a good thing can become toxic.
AJL: It’s unusual to be so prolific in two mediums. What compels you to express yourself through ceramics and paintings — does one medium give you something the other can’t?
JD: Thanks so much for phrasing the question that way, because I am a self taught painter, I do find myself feeling a little less confident in the medium – but I find that is changing. I hid painting and drawing practice for years because I felt like it wasn’t legitimate without an academic backing, but it’s something I’ve always loved doing. Especially with the pandemic, it feels easier to be like “whatever, do what you like.”
Drawing is special to me because you can do it anywhere and it’s very private. I take my sketchbook with me everywhere. I forgot it on a recent trip down to the city and I felt naked. I also love that unless someone is peering over your shoulder they can’t really see what you’re doing. I remember the first time I moved to New York after college, feeling confused and scared about everything. I drew on anything I could touch and it became a really soothing practice. Similar to throwing and painting — I find the mediums I work in all have a really calming effect. I'm a highly sensitive person so working in mediums that are fairly meditative — throwing, painting, sculpting, drawing, etc — make me lose track of time and creates this sense of freedom if you’re able to get into a flow state, that I live for.
‘Tamara’ by Jen Dwyer (image courtesy of Jen Dwyer)
AJL: There is a joyous abundance in your work — details, humor, mash-ups, brightness. Are you aware of consciously challenging the norming towards minimalism that so often defines modern aesthetics, or does it just flow from somewhere innate?
JD: I’m definitely a maximalist at heart. Earlier In my work, I had a much more minimalist approach but now I’ve embraced my abundant taste. More than anything it stems from being interested in so many things — in college I studied art, art history and environmental science and if I could have also studied anthropology I would have. I’ve always felt that art can serve as an umbrella to explore all of your interests. I think that’s how my taste develops as well, fusing things that wouldn’t normally go together to create a new meaning and visual language or your own unique world.
AJL: You moved to your place in the Hudson Valley earlier this year: your first studio, in a beautiful, old house from the 1850s. How has the move influenced your creativity and mindset?
JD: Hmm I love those questions, let me think about them. There’s so much more space so I just acquired my first kiln (I’m so thrilled about) and there’s a lot more room for large paintings; I’m going to show paintings for the first time in NYC next year so, yes, it feels like there’s so much potential in my new live/ work studio.
Paintings and ceramics by Jen Dwyer (image courtesy of Jen Dwyer)
AJL: What are you excited about for the year ahead? Are there places you enjoy exploring in your new area?
JD: Many things. I’m having my first solo show in Manhattan next winter, which feels really exciting. I’m also participating in a panel discussion for my residency at the Museum about adornment and my work, which I’m really looking forward to. Since I moved to Torrington I've fallen in love with running again and a good friend told me there’s a marathon in Paris which seems so fun. Continuing to set up my studio in Torrington and getting to know my new neighborhood as well as visit NYC — I love being so close that I am able to see old friends and art with frequency. And an exhibition at Georgetown College in 2022, as well and another museum exhibition in 2023, but I don’t think I can officially talk about it yet.
I also have recently learned I love collaborations. I did a commission for the first time in grad school and it wasn’t a great experience, but lately people have been reaching out about commissions and it’s been a fun process. Also my puppy! Francesca, named after my first art love Francesca Woodman, but I’ve been calling her Frankie.
And in regards to your questions about Torrington, what I’ve been excited about exploring/ being inspired by is all the preserved New England architecture. Growing up in northern California, architecture has a very minimal, modern and Frank Lloyd Wright aesthetic. I’m really inspired by the older Victorian looking homes and architecture.
Thanks so much for reaching out! I loved answering all these questions.
Thank you for answering them, Jen! I am so excited to hang my lady on the wall and see what you do next.
Check out Jen’s work on her site and as part of the current ‘Hudson Valley Artists 2021’ exhibition at the Samuel Dorsky Museum in New Paltz (running till November 14th); and I hope you all embrace her mantra: What is considered ‘desirable’ will always change, so why bother trying to fit a mold.