Juxtapoz Art and Culture-Spring_2019

JULIE CURTISS JUXTAPOZ.COM 91

o even the most elementary

research on the works of Brooklyn-

based, French-born painter Julie

Curtiss, and words like seductive,

surreal and sinister spice the

headlines. There will be dissertations about

hair, and oh, there is a lot of hair to discuss, and

fingernails, lobsters and domesticated scenes, too.

But, in conversation with Curtiss, on the precipice

of a breakout solo show at Anton Kern Gallery in

spring 2019, the word we keep coming back to is

hypnotic. Curtiss can make a fingernail holding a

lobster look cryptic, or transform a trio of safari

hats into dizzying detailed hairdos drawing

the viewer into a spell. When I first approached

Curtiss about her work, I was curious about what

era held her kinship, if she longed for some early

Surrealistic impulses of the 1920s. What I found

was an artist who combines graphic elements of

America and painterly excellence from Europe

into something wholly new and unique, making

bodies of work, (literally bodies... and toilet bowls)

that compel the contemporary art world to pound

on her door.

Evan Pricco: Let's talk about hair. Your depictions

of hair completely floor me. So let's start there;

talk to me about why it is such a prominent

subject for you.

Julie Curtiss: Hair started interesting me ever since

I was a teenager when I discovered old braids

of hair belonging to my mother and my aunt in

my attic. I realized there was this part of us that

would remain long after we are gone. Hair itself

is amorphous, but you can shape it; it's inert and

alive at once. On women's heads it's a sexual

asset, but on her body, it's considered "abject."

This organic matter holds so much cultural and

personal significance. It's also interesting to

observe how some people recoil at the presence of

human hair, as if in the presence of a corpse.

What I like about hair in painting is the pattern

and repetitiveness, which is hypnotic and

attractive. I particularly love Jean-Auguste-

Dominique Ingres’ touch and I have always been

fascinated with the way he paints hair, skin

and fabrics. It’s that same kind of rendering, of

softness, or sensuality, that I would like to emulate

in my depiction of hair.

And then, of course, fingernails. Another Piece of

the Pie may be one of my favorites of your works

because there is so much to look at and read into

while combining those hair and nail elements.

So let's talk about both the joy and meaning of

painting hair and nails.

You could say that nails and hair belong to the

same category, physical attributes that women

everywhere in the world tame and groom,

transcending them into tools of communication

and seduction. It's interesting that there is a whole

international hair and nail culture out there. And

I think that’s what is at the heart of my interest

is how nature and culture relate, the balance

between our wild side and our domesticated side.

And also the weirdness of it all.

In reading some past interviews, it seems your

influences range from Chicago Imagists to Nicole

Eisenman, to European painters of the nineteenth

century. Plus, there was a time you were working

in KAWS's studio, so there is this really interesting

background you come out of, but your work is

so original to me, to the point where it’s almost

timeless. There seems to have been this burst of

clarity in your work from 2015 to now. What sort

of characteristics interest and inspire you now?

When I started this new body of work in 2015,

I worked at a small scale on paper, cropping my

subject very narrowly to give a sense of mystery

and suspense, like in noir films, but also a feeling

of intimacy. Since then, I am trying to scale up the

size of my works and see how big I can go while

keeping the same quality and definition in my

images. I want to retain a certain tension in the

piece while challenging myself with more complex

compositions and subjects.

For my upcoming show at Anton Kern Gallery, I am

trying to work on images that would evoke scenes

of everyday life in New York with a Surrealist twist,

bringing some of my French background into the

mix. For example, my love for Degas’ depiction of

ordinary life in nineteenth-century Paris.

What is your favorite part of the process? The

idea or execution? Or neither?

There is a particular pleasure in putting the last

touches on a painting. It's like the last straight line

for a long distance runner. It seems that nothing

bad can happen anymore, and you are painting

from a safe place, all the hard work behind you,

which is a bit of an illusion, because I’ve had a

lot of last-minute disasters. Anyways, you can

definitely get a "high" from it.

D

Above: Caress, Acrylic, vinyl and oil on canvas, 20” x 25”, 2018