This post is about the fascinating work of the talented Lee Borthwick, an installation artist who is based in London and specialises both in interior and exterior sculptures. She is currently developing a new collaborative piece for the London Design Festival 2013 and she has recently been shortlisted for a commission for a park in South London. Her work combines wood and mirrors in such a clever and poetic manner.
I had the great pleasure - and fortune - to interview Lee. Please see below .
How
does it feel to be a nature inspired artist/maker in this era of
digital technology?
I, like
many others, cannot help but be drawn to the magnetic pull of the
internet and the endless availability of information but I am
grateful for having the incongruent elements appearing daily in my
life and having the regular reminder that nature is quietly working
away. What I have discovered is that I can make both elements work
for me. The digital age has played a huge role in getting my work
seen and from the way it is received it would suggest that people
still have a huge appetite for engaging with nature (just through
different means). Digital technologies have also enabled me to give
that contemporary edge to my work (laser cutting, water jet cutting
etc.). It gives the materials a new voice and allows me not to fall
into the hippy new-age trap which could potentially befall someone
who likes to collect twigs on their weekends.
I have
continually explored the notion of nature versus the manmade, the
natural environment meeting the urban; digital technologies are
another extension of this. I like to play one off against the other-
I think the artist always needs something to rub up against to fuel
going forward. There is however just something so beautifully
inherent in being able to feel something in your hands and that would
always stop me from going completely digital.
Your
work enhances the organic beauty of mother nature by means of
artificial input; do you think that there is a sense of nostalgia
that comes from wanting to portray or contemplate nature in this way?
And, if this is the case, do you think that who connects with your
work shares this sense of nostalgia?
Nostalgia
is a very strong element to the work, I don’t try specifically to
define a memory though I am fascinated with the idea of creating “a
sense of place”, a feeling of landscape or a memory of somewhere
you once visited. I think the mirrors are, through an artificial
input, creating a new and slightly out of reach environment,
particularly when used outdoors. I suppose you could liken the
impressions I am trying to make to childhood memories of running
around the woods, climbing tree’s and summers spent gazing at cloud
formations. Often though I am simply capturing new perspectives
through unusual means and asking people to reflect on the
surroundings that they find themselves in at the point.
People
respond to the work for a variety of reasons, sometimes it is the
intensity of the work that has gone into the piece that draws them
in, sometimes the tactility and desire to touch, climb and be a part
of the reflection. In that way it is interactive. Sometimes the
tapestries offer the feel of bringing the “outside inside”
fulfilling a desire to be a little closer to nature.
Did
you anticipate that your technical training in constructed textiles
and Surface design would land you right in the centre of the
contemporary art world or was this something that happened
unexpectedly?
I am
constantly surprised at how things have panned out since graduating
with a degree in textiles and surface design. The problem was that
technical training never sat too well with me, I would learn the
basics and then try and run with that. Surrounded by extremely
talented knitters, weavers, printers and embroiderers forced me to
examine the skills I did have and find an alternative way through the
situation. I never imagined I would be working with some of the
clients I have and in fact I’m the last person to whom I would have
imagined to be creating commercially viable sculptural works.
Needless
to say I’m delighted how it has worked out so far and grateful that
other people could understand my vision when I couldn’t. Going
against the grain and finding my own way seems to have been the key
way (albeit frustrating at times) to pushing my vision and business
forward. I never imagined that my work could cross the genres that
it does from doing exterior public installations to a range of wooden
tableware but I realise now that when you take risks and say yes to
everything unexpectedly wonderful things will happen.
Mirrors
are often employed as poetic, philosophical and psychological
metaphor, they suggest something ethereal. Is this the reason why you
chose this material and where does the whole idea of using them come
from?
I often
use the phrase “causing a poetic stir” when writing about my
work, the notion has been integral to my exploratory installations
that sit in the wild. Mirrors capture and dispel thousands of
fleeting moments all of the time. I see it as a living textile as it
can portray such a rich variety of different perspectives in
different environments, at different angles and in different lights.
The idea of fusing pieces of tree to mirror was triggered from a day
spent in Richmond park where I was experimenting with a variety of
materials that would become new surfaces on tree stumps. I was
developing a collection of outdoor seating for my MA collection at
the time and it was the sheen on a piece of black rubber that made me
crave something more reflective. Suddenly the notion of reflecting
the sky down to the ground and creating a bucket full of trees
was born. It was actually only after I had a mirror laser cut to
fit a log that I realised how much scope the concept could have and
the poetic and philosophical qualities that it brought to the work .
I haven’t
delved too deeply into what it means psychologically when I
repeatedly use mirror (I’ll leave that open to interpretation).
Fundamentally I am a material led artist and aesthetics do matter
greatly to my work. I just love how the two materials complement each
other so well and how much room for development there appears to be.
Many thanks to Lee Borthwick for her participation and for such an insightful and honest response.
