Frame 61April 29, 2020

Bianca Barandun

Frame 61April 29, 2020

“My practice is rooted in the observance of the formation of groups, and social clustering within space.”

Could you tell us a bit about yourself and your background? Where did you study?

Growing up in Switzerland definitely influenced the visual language from which I draw inspiration. Particularly, the slower pace, this given space and time to play with a wide range of materials, both in our home as well as outside in the countryside, has informed my work. Growing up surrounded by nature led me to pursue a BA in Scientific Illustration at Zhdk Zürich Hochschule der Künste in Zürich. After two years into my Bachelor, I decided to gain a new perspective by initiating an exchange to study Illustration at the Hochschule für Angewandte Wissenschaften Hamburg, Germany, where I transferred and from where I received my Bachelor’s degree. Afterwards, I moved to London to study and received my MFA in Printmaking at the Royal College of Art in 2017. It was vital for me to study Printmaking, not because I am necessarily a traditional printmaker. It is more due to the reason I gain huge inspiration from the various processes of printmaking and hoped to incorporate this style into my own work. Studying, working and living in three different countries not only allowed me to get to know all these different places, but it also provided me with the luxury of meeting amazing people and form friendships.

Today, next to my artistic practice, I work as a freelance educator, which I really enjoy. It also hugely contributes to my own development as an artist. Since I graduated from the Royal College of Art, and when I started working in my studio in Stratford, London, I have realized, that I feel this great freedom and joy of working, experimenting and discovering again.

What draws you to a certain material and inspires you to work with it?

It’s the pure fascination I draw from certain materials. I can be intrigued by the texture of a material, its weight or its haptics, a particular surface. I am captivated what happens when I join or force two things together, when the material takes over and creates its own language. It is a constant balance of when to direct and intervene, or when to let go. Sometimes I get surprised by a pairing, and I discover new things. This in itself is very thrilling and rewarding. A central part of my practice is about the combination of different surfaces and the interplay between them, for example when spray paint mimics tape.

All the materials I choose relate to my current theme, what I want to communicate. My practice is rooted in the observance of the formation of groups, and social clustering within space. I use a variety of media to create a visual suggestion of the complexities of society. Layers blur, and embossing and debossing alternate, illustrating the intricate and labyrinthine nature of human interaction with society. My wall-based sculptures invite the viewer to step back and consider the ways in which societal convergence and organisation take place.

I am also drawn to use materials, or particularly processes, I am unfamiliar with, because then I am not able to control or regulate the process as much as I would like to, hence inevitably imperfections or errors occur. Additionally, when I have a process in which I have to work quickly, for example when working with jesmonite, whose drying process is rapid, it won’t allow me to intervene much. The reason I like to work with these imperfections is that my main goal is to create work, which feels on the verge of finished and unfinished – controlled and uncontrolled - to create work which makes you feel something, where there is just something a little bit off or that has an underlying tension.

You have stated that you draw references from history and literature. Are there any specific moments in history or literature that you say the majority of your art is inspired by? Or does it consist of numerous references?

My work is inspired by a wider range of references. I draw inspiration from books, newspaper articles, or also often on google expeditions. I also get a lot of ideas or input from being and talking with friends. However, I can say the core idea always circles around seeing and interpreting dynamic relationships and transferring them into material metaphors. The theme of stereotypical behaviour forms a central part of my practice, in relation to both social structures and group dynamics. Questions like how we adapt to our surrounding, fall into patterns, form a hierarchy, or attach one’s identity to another interest me. I am questioning how these social constructs can be altered through architectural constructions, environmental changes or mental illness.

For example, my latest body of work evolved from the core idea of the phenomenon of Hikikomori. After a conversation with a friend, I was immediately intrigued by this topic. Hikikomori are people who withdraw from society to seek isolation, but it is also the name of the phenomenon itself. Overstimulation, frustration and the pressure to communicate simultaneously on multiple levels, the fear of missing out as well as the pressure to perform and succeed professionally are among the key factors for the phenomenon of Hikikomori. Today there are an estimated million Japanese „modern-day hermits“. Although this phenomenon originated in Japan, it is branching out to European countries as well. Often Hikikomori choose their bedroom as their retreat, whereas these controlled spaces are being heavily equipped with digital devices to communicate with the world outside from their four walls, escaping into a virtual space. It is particularly this contrast of our interconnected world, the sharing, one could say oversharing, of personal data and the radical withdrawal from it, which I find fascinating.

At the moment I am hooked by two books. One is “The Secret Lives of Colour” by Kassia St Clair, which explores the history and context of colour. The other is “Rage Becomes Her: The Power of Women’s Anger” by Soraya Chemaly. It thematizes the justification of women’s anger and its necessity as well as its societal and cultural implications.

Do you have any rituals or listen to any type of music to get you into the headspace to create?

Walking along the canal to my studio in Stratford helps me to gather my thoughts. Usually, when I arrive at the studio, I make a coffee, check my mail and maybe get a bit lost while googling this and that. I work in different phases.

My practice stems from my experimental engagement with materials. I mostly start with a rather extensive research phase. While simultaneously sketching and arranging numerous components in an almost scientific method I try to illustrate an emotional discourse and displacement. At some point I need to see all my sketches, which means that I am either taping all the pieces of paper with the sketches on the wall or I lay them out on the floor. They all have the same size. Then I start to select and mark the ones, which I will realise.

When I am in production mode, the appearance of my studio shifts rapidly. I start by laying out materials and tools quite meticulously on the floor. This might look chaotic, but it’s actually the opposite. There is a system behind it, and I cannot start working before everything is laid out the way I need it to be. Hence, the installing, arranging and placing, takes up more time than the actual manufacture of the work. Although when everything is set, it allows me to bounce from one work to another. A friend of mine once described it as a performance itself.

What artwork have you seen recently that has resonated with you?

Whenever I get stuck whilst working, I fetch one of Isa Genzken’s books and I am happy to have one in my studio. I even once travelled to Amsterdam with a good friend of mine to see her largest retrospect, “Mach Dich Hübsch!” at Stedelijk Museum. It was mind-blowing. I admire the diversity and visionary aspect of her work. My other go to artist is Ida Ekblad. Whenever I look at her work, it makes me want to produce work myself. There is so much joy and energy in her diverse oeuvre.

The last show that had a long-lasting impact on me is one by Hyon Gyon, which I saw almost a year ago at Parasol Unit. The madness, energy and anger used as a catalyst to produce work was clearly visible in each of the works. Additionally, I was intrigued by how she worked with different materials and how she employed them. Her small bronze sculptures are exquisite.

How do you go about naming your work?

Sometimes I find it quite tricky to name a work, to find the right words, which are not revealing too much but make the viewer curious. This rarely comes to me quite organically while working on a piece. I used to gather names or phrases on a piece of paper, which got filled up while doing my research, going about my daily business, overhearing conversations or just general readings. For the most part I actually have a work in progress name and then decide on another, an actual title as soon as the work leaves my studio. I find that naming works is about finding the right balance of how much direction for the interpretation of the work I want to give the viewer. I prefer to leave it as open as possible, to provide enough room for other thoughts. That is why I have decided to name my A4 and A3 sized wall-based sculptures based on the date they were created. Simply for the reason that they are centered around the experimental engagement of materials – illustrating a flash of thoughts on a particular day.

Is there anything new and exciting in the pipeline you would like to tell us about?

Some works of mine are currently on display at MK Gallery in Milton Keynes, though due to the present situation they are understandably not accessible.
Now I am very excited to change media. I have found a way to work with textile and canvas, which is very new and stimulating for me. Simultaneously, I started to work on a series with photographs extracted from work in progress images. I am also discovering new ways of making my larger wall-based sculptures lighter, which is simply fantastic, because they can be quite heavy.

In light of my previous works, playing with materials and different surfaces, I extended these experiments in order to illustrate the glacier surface changes. Hence, I have a project called “Darkening Glaciers” with Martina Barandun. It is my first art and science collaboration, for which we successfully received funding by the BAK Kulturfonds, Stiftung Kulturfonds - Pro Arte/Gleyre, Switzerland. This grant enables me to participate in a one-month residency at the Vermont Studio Center in the USA, though at the moment it is unclear if this gets postponed due to the spread of SARS-CoV-2. We shall see what happens.

bianca-barandun.com

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All images are courtesy of the artist
Date of publication: 29/04/20

Frame 61