Juxtapoz Art and Culture-Spring_2019

(Martin Jones) #1

70 SPRING 2019


et-lagged and trudging through
a covered mini-mall of more than 50
shades of gray, more catacomb than
commercial, I discovered the store–or
it discovered me. Colors and shapes
roused my energy and appetite. That’s what
happens in an encounter with Lucy Sparrow and
one of her installations. The UK artist fashions
felt and seems to insert a heartbeat into the
everyday objects she curates into staged bodegas,
sex shops and delis. Entering one of her shows is
a trip to the theater, a textural tonic that infuses
longing, nostalgia and camaraderie. Individually,
each piece evokes memory. How splendid that
her name is Lucy Sparrow, recalling the tiny bird
that symbolizes joy and protection, simplicity
and community. Our conversation began with
an introduction to her cats (Aldous) Huxley and
Buttercup (Princess Bride) as I roosted down with
the sprightly Ms. Sparrow.


Gwynned Vitello: You wouldn’t be described as
a performance artist, and I don’t think of your
work as super-staged, but you personally are an
actor in the experience.
Lucy Sparrow: I think there is definitely an
element of that, though it was never meant to
be that way. When I first started, it was never
intentional. It was just that I had no one else to
run the shop I made, so it was only me and my
mother coming in to help on the weekend. A lot of
people didn’t know it was me when I first started
out. I was just someone behind the counter. I don’t


get that as much anymore because I guess I’ve
done enough of them that people, unfortunately,
recognize me, so it’s not much of a surprise.

Your Mom! So she also had a part in the
performance?
She works in a shop that sells kitchenware, that
kind of thing. So she’s really good at customer
service, and people thought she was really polite
and nice. But yeah, she does have her real work to
do, and I haven’t done a show in England for quite
awhile. The last one here was a sex shop, so it was
a little uncomfortable, though she did make all the
condoms for the shop.

Speaking of sex and performance art, and
I don’t think you’re at all uncomfortable about
this, tell me how you view your former work as
a stripper. I think of you as kind of a Spice Girl
Stripper, along the lines of Sporty or Baby Spice,
not a bored-looking stripper.
Oh totally. I was very chatty, and I didn’t look that
much different, to be honest. I still wore my glasses.
But yeah, I looked very nerdy, very alternative;
though it was in Brighton, so everyone living
there is quite alternative. I did it for five years and
worked all over, in Bristol, London, and Manchester,
as well. Wherever, at the time, the money was good,
you’d travel. I used to take my sewing to work to
while away the hours when no one was in, you
know, and that’s what I would rather have been
doing. I’d use the money I made from stripping to
pay for fabric and materials.

Did you dream of being an artist as a young girl,
and did you go to art school?
I knew that I loved art, and I had posters of art,
as opposed to boy bands, on my bedroom walls
growing up. I actually did go to university, and
I went hoping it would be like scenes out of Fame,
where everyone was doing music and dance
and making masterpieces. But it was everyone
wanting to go out and get drunk instead of being
interested in art, so that was a bit heartbreaking.

I wouldn’t have expected that either. I’d
imagine everyone in art school being driven
and passionate.
I think it can be an easy option that people go for,
but I found the experience crushing. I sort of soon
realized that it was a load of rubbish and that
I didn’t need to go to university at all, so I dropped
out and became a stripper.

Did you pursue art before school? Was it mainly
sewing?
I was drawing, painting and sewing. If there was
anything artistic, I would do it and my Mum
would encourage me. She’s really arty, and my
Dad does lots of writing, so there was support.
I remember at the age of six, making this
parachute completely out of sweets wrappers,
and I thought it was just the best thing I could
do to make this food and fashion kind of thing.
I learned to sew when I was about four, and we
also did it at school in a home economics class.
I didn’t think of it then as art, never took it

J


Above: Madame Roxy’s Emporium, London, England, 2015
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