Frame 61October 16, 2023

Emily Perry

Frame 61October 16, 2023

"I find imperfect repetition powerful”

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

I graduated with a Sculpture degree from Brighton university in 2014. It was a pretty special environment; a super small, experimental programme with brilliant tutors. I did lots of experimenting with materials, but quickly became excited about using my body as a tool of expression, inspired by female performance art from the 1970s and my tutor, Leah Capaldi. I think I was really working through something deep and personal at that time, and that exposure and overexposure of myself reveals itself and impacts my work still now. As a socialist feminist, I began thinking about the process of making, more than just the artwork itself, and started considering the collaborative, relational processes of making live works between artist, performer, and audience. After graduating, I moved to Berlin where I found opportunities to host experimental events to exhibit my live works. Drawn to the critical, political reputation of Goldsmiths, I left Berlin in 2016 to study MFA Fine Art there. Goldsmiths was a time of stimulating discussions and contextualising my art practice, it was also where I first met seventeen who represent me. Alongside my art practice, I am currently a psychosynthesis therapist in training, and an English as a foreign language teacher. I live in Amsterdam with my dog and partner (in that order).

Your work often engages with the concept of repetition, whether it's in the looping format of GIFs or the repetitive actions of female labour. How does this repetitive element serve to amplify the messages you convey about gender, capitalism, and societal expectations in your art?

Yes, repetition is a big one for me. In Woman with Salad (2016-ongoing), women animate patriarchal, sexist, reductive stock images of themselves that are created to be consumed by capitalism. Their ridiculous performance; dumb, relentless enthusiasm; and sarcastic, robotic delivery, mocks and subverts female agency. I use repetition as a tool for humour: I like artworks with a dark sense of humour. Woman with Salad is at first a one-liner, then when you’ve been in the gallery for an hour, and you notice that the women are still going, the performance becomes a grotesque cycle in which we are all complicit. I find imperfect repetition powerful - this is where liveness is key. We see the women tiring and their actions changing slightly over time. I find the repetition of politics / social justice / history depressing. I think women, and marginalised groups are saying, pretty much, the same things we’ve always been saying. I think feminists in the 1970s made a similar gesture to the contemporary identity movements of BLM and Trans rights. The feminist struggle seems like the same fight as it was 50 years ago, but now the issues are more hidden, insidious and complicated. I’m currently training to be a psychosynthesis therapist and I’m learning about how we’re all repeating old survival patterns from childhood. As a therapist and artist, I am keen to also include how we are intimately entangled with our, often toxic, contexts (political, social, economic, environmental), which we cannot help but engage with and repeatedly perform. I am also curious about the repetition of rituals as a wellness practice.

Your piece 'Boys on Film' presents a unique juxtaposition of teenage boys, reminiscent of classical statues, within domestic settings. Could you share more about the concept behind this work and how it explores themes of youth, identity, and perhaps even isolation?

When making Boys on Film I was thinking about how my teenage self remains a big part of me. At the time, that angsty, insecure, inner narrative continued to play on repeat in my mind. I was interested in how we, from my lens in a western society, conceptualise teenage girls in comparison to teenage boys. I was reflecting on my relationships and the profound impact of my adolescence. I was observing myself and others wondering how qualified to be adults we all were! I recorded my behaviour and thought patterns, then enhanced the repetitive reproduction of clichés until eventually my teenage self was exposed as ridiculous. The piece explores self-deprecation which feels inherently female. The group of teenage boys and I, did five workshops where we discussed identity and gender. I learnt about their experience of masculinity and femininity. After all this input, their authentic voices were not heard, they instead became vessels for my words. Hearing my female voice through theirs was simply powerful. The boys were lounging, like Greek-Roman statues, teasingly hidden behind domestic curtains, similar to the ones in their mothers’ houses, they were speaking and singing through holes specially made to reveal their lips. By scripting and objectifying young men, I think I was highlighting the ubiquitous objectification of young women.

"In 'You’re On Mute,' you explore the idea of 'gender-blind lockdowns' and the performance of normalcy. Can you expand on how this performance reflects the unique challenges faced by individuals during the pandemic and the ways it intersects with broader gender dynamics?

The ‘gender blind lockdown’ refers to the disproportionate effect that the 2019-2021 coronavirus lockdown measures had on women. That period neatly highlighted existing gender inequalities such as (un)equal pay, and how the societal burden of domestic labour and childcare are still predominantly shouldered by women, across socio-economic backgrounds. During the pandemic I noticed I was lowkey harassed by men more than normal. My friends and I put that down to more men hanging out of doorways with nothing to do during lockdowns other than shout at women on the street. Online scammers targeted women via social media and online game platforms. You’re on Mute sees a lone woman neurotically performing being normal at home. I was so aware of my performance at that time, with the pressure of allowing my colleagues into my bedroom (because who had a home office?) and being newly, constantly confronted with my own face on zoom. I was aware we were all trying to be normal while floundering in our isolated, lonely, unknown new normal. The You’re on Mute performer interrupts her news style lecture to welcome and offer coffee to new audience members, keen to be a good host. This self-deprecating, female ‘people pleaser’ character is an archetype I like to play with.

Tell us a bit about how you spend your day / studio routine? What is your studio like?

I am all about observation so I need to be out and about living life to have anything to make art about! Being shut away in a studio is not really my style, but I have always valued having space to think, experiment and meet people. At the moment, that space is a small study in my home, full of books (mainly about art, therapy, anti-capitalism and feminism), scraps of paper, and loads of fabrics I’ve collected. I do crafty things such as making paper cards from cardboard packaging (old card cards!) and clothes for my baby niece / dog, as a kind of active meditation that helps me think about the details of my next artwork. When meeting new people I like to walk with them; I find walking side by side a good way to dive straight into deeper conversations as it is non-confrontational. Maybe that’s why my dog and I are so close! I work on a project basis, usually with an exhibition in mind, but always continue other work at the same time. It suits me very well to never be solely working on just one thing at a time. I am, almost, a qualified therapist, so I spend time studying and seeing clients. I also work as an English as foreign language teacher for adults and children which is fun. It is my experiences and relationships that impact my thinking about art.

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

Last night I got to see the brilliant play, Godot is a Woman, by Silent Faces. A friend recommended it to me after seeing it at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, and I was thrilled to get the chance to see it while in the UK. It was fantastic! It’s a hilarious play that questions Samuel Beckett’s Estate rule that forbids women from performing his most famous play, Waiting for Godot. It reminds us - and we need reminding - that it is not only men who can represent humanity! The female and non-binary performers of Silent Faces were an absolute joy to watch. I was in awe of their hilarious work and left the theatre feeling empowered, uplifted and inspired by the joyful connecting power of liveness.

The Sara Cwynar photo collage exhibition at FOAM, Amsterdam, has also stuck with me recently. I was allured round the exhibition, overwhelmed by the sickly, intrusive images of female consumerism. I felt at once, confronted, complicit in something gross, and yet enjoyed the works like a kind of guilty pleasure.

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

I’m thinking about emotions as atmospheric and the idea that ‘the individual’ is spread out. With that I plan to make a piece that explores archetypal subpersonalities and individual authenticity as a collective phenomenon, as ever with a focus on the live, shared present moment. I hope to exhibit next year at seventeen or elsewhere. As a bit of a curve ball, I’m dreaming up a proposal for a public sculpture in my neighbourhood in Amsterdam, which is fun and requires a totally different approach to making. I am looking forward to the ‘Artworks and Artists in Context’ conference at The Women’s Art Collection in Cambridge in March where I hope my performance, Narcissus Nature Morte Mukbang, that I exhibited in the collection last year, will be discussed. (If you don’t already know about the WAC, you have to! It’s the biggest collection of art by women in Europe and it’s housed in the most beautiful building, designed by Chamberlin, Powell and Bon – architects of the Barbican.) I’m always genuinely interested in talking to new people, so if you’d like to connect, please get in touch.

emilylouiseperry.com

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All images are courtesy of the artist
Date of publication: 16/10/2023

Frame 61