On June 11, 2014 by Evan Senn

Lindsay Buchman - Temple Rome University - Fall 2013

Orange County artist, Lindsay Buchman’s paper-obsessed artwork explores delicate relationships between humankind and its environment. The man-made world and the natural world often are juxtaposed with each other, but Buchman finds a balance between the two in her work. Sensitive and ethereal, Buchman’s work ranges in material and style from the wall to the floor, but throughout her work she is able to reconcile a kind of lost relationship with identity and personal exploration through words, paper and atmosphere.

What is the relationship between your installation work and your works on paper? They seem to be two very different mediums and styles.

The relationship between my installation-based work and works on paper is rooted in memory and human behavior. While earlier works depict weathered architectonic subjects with writing interlaced between layers, recent works reveal a more communicative language-based practice. Although these bodies of work differ greatly, there are certain elements that connect them conceptually. My initial interest in architecture stemmed from a fascination with the history held within dilapidated built environment structures. A sort of embodiment of the human attempt to create a lasting imprint on society. Admittedly, there was also a sense of romanticizing or nostalgia for metropolitan edifices—alongside my affliction for discord and erosion, exercised in these representations. Upon further investigation of how fixed and unfixed meanings establish themselves cognitively, I began to realize how weathered exterior structures mirror the interior slippage of our minds. The shift from exterior space to interior space was a natural transition, although from a formal standpoint it may not appear so. Upon this departure, a personal and narrative dialogue surfaced.

In 2011, creative writing became a large part of my working practice. As I explored introspective thoughts on paper, I saw my work shift drastically. I started losing interest in my former representational structures and began sourcing information from my writing instead. Through these layered and elusive narratives, my work began to speak to my relationship with objects, individuals and places. It is within this context that I view my role as an archivist, documenting how we define our lives within relation to our interactions. My current interests are preoccupied with how we socially construct value, why we form attachment to transient homes, and how we protest decay and deny the tangible for the sake of feeling false certainties. The obsession with discord still prevails, as does my interest in deterioration. Much of the installation work examines these themes.

The more space I allow between the work and myself, the more I understand the meaning of each chapter. Time only makes things richer and easier to articulate intent; it allows significance to seep through the pores of my practice.



How and when did you fall in love with art?

I do not believe I can pin down a specific point at which I fell in love with art. From as young as I can recall, tactile processes have mesmerized me. Drawing was my first love, as it was most immediate and always accessible. While the initial phase of amusement has worn off, there is not a day that passes where I am not engaged in a creative process. Every year I gain depth in comprehending how fluid creativity is, expanding my capacity for understanding the world I inhabit. It’s like falling in love over and over again with someone that is familiar and deeply embedded in your moral fiber.

Just when I think I’ve had enough of working a piece into obliteration, a moment of clarity takes shape and a new perspective is reached. It’s the constant learning, problem solving and heightening of awareness that explains the attraction.

You seem to have an affinity for words and paper. Is there a deeper history there? A reason for this material love?

My affinity for words and paper runs through the veins of my practice. I have long been an advocate for creative writing and consider it an integral part of my studio time.

Formerly, these introspective musings were embedded in the work—a type of burying or masking. In the past couple of years, the writing has surfaced and become the focal point instead of an elusive accent. I consider this a delicate act of what to reveal vs. what to conceal. I am interested in drawing people in and making them work to understand the content. While much of my writing is narrative, it is also relative on a general spectrum of human experience. If you have loved, breathed, shared, honored, lost, failed, struggled and learned, there is something of value to be experienced within the work. The writing echoes many of these themes, often distilled through codified language. The relationship to paper was initially a tactile and aesthetic choice. As my work has evolved, I understand my appreciation for this material relates to ephemeral and transient moments. All that is treasured can easily disintegrate. This notion mirrors the conceptual backbone of what I aim to convey. Paper communicates fragility while also encompassing durability, a constant interplay of contradiction.

id[entity] lithographic transfers on tengucho & kozo with natural beeswax 20”x31” 2012

lithographic transfers on tengucho & kozo with natural beeswax

"Content: The Deterioration of Self," found cast-iron bathtub, palette, natural beeswax, lithographic transfers on gampi, kozo & tengucho 10’x7’x7’ 2012

“Content: The Deterioration of Self,” found cast-iron bathtub, palette, natural beeswax, lithographic transfers on gampi, kozo & tengucho 10’x7’x7’ 2012

What are you working on right now? What is the significance of this new project/series?

At the moment, I have several projects developing. The significance in my new body of work is connected to the idea of place/home, socially ascribed value systems and language vs. communication discrepancies. I’m interested in the effect of continuous moving, which triggers memory disassociation and perhaps psychological instability.

These themes are being built out in a sculptural and installation approach, as well as through works on paper—both drawing based and photographic. I am also dabbling in hybridizing printed image and painted image, while still exploring similar content. The sculptural/installation work is more text and object related, whereas the two-dimensional work explores interior/exterior space, tension and memory. On one hand, I’m casting plaster bricks with text about the emptiness of beautiful words and places, and on the other, I’m drawing and painting fragments of previous places inhabited where meaning was attached. Although it makes sense in my mind, it may not read as visually cohesive. And that’s okay. I believe the most exciting moments are at points of incongruity.

Any shows or projects coming up you’d like to share?

I will be exhibiting in a group show, “Summus” at Minan Gallery from August 6-30, 2014. Located at 1051 South Fairfax Avenue, Los Angeles, California 90019. In addition, I am a participating exhibitor at the Festival of Arts in Laguna Beach. July 6-August 30, 2014. 650 Laguna Canyon Road, Laguna Beach, CA 92651. On July 24, I will be presenting a panel at the Festival of Arts, 12pm-1pm. The topic is “Artists in Their Own Words” – it will question and discuss what art allows us to see that other vocations do not.

Who are some of your biggest influences in art?

My biggest influences in art are: Mark Bradford, John Baldessari, Rachel Whiteread, Jenny Holzer, Joseph Kosuth, Lygia Clark, Mira Schendel, Mary Corse, Joseph Beuys, Doris Salcedo, Glen Ligon, Eva Hesse, Ai WeiWei, Daniel Arsham and Richard Diebenkorn. That’s a lot, right? I firmly believe it’s important to have muses.

7 9 15 2 5 LBuchman__RARW


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