Interview with Laura Burke

Francesca Capone: Your compositions feel referential to memories, macro snapshots of narratives, dreamlike and almost cubist. Where does your mind go while you are drawing? Do these surreal groupings represent objects from your memory or the physical world?

Laura Burke: I use a combination of memory, and reference images, but the two hold the same weight. I’m never working to perfectly represent either/or, there’s too much urgency. Sometimes I attribute it to laziness, because I rarely push myself to fully capture a reference, I just want to do enough to communicate what’s necessary. I’m attached to the idea of building a poem- attempting to group objects and colors together that the viewer can decide if it’s sad or happy.

Building a poem is such a beautiful concept! And the sense of urgency does feel apparent in the work. Some forms of poetics can be quite urgent, or rather, say more with less, almost like an image. Is there a feeling or vibe that you are trying to impart on the viewer? Would you say it’s dependent on your mood? Or is it something outside of your self/ identity?

I don’t know if it’s possible to build a drawing independent from your identity. I got caught on Barthes’s quote “What I hide by language my body utters.” Drawing feels like the end product of body language, making it difficult to not be honest. It’s pretty woo-woo, but sometimes I go out of my way to avoid a vibe, especially during the winter. The general malaise that comes with overcast makes it hard to produce anything but kind of sad drawings, which isn't something I want to impart on the viewer, I want to protect them from the possible sadness that might be coming from my end. But if I can make it in the same mindset as it being a poem, maybe it’ll communicate some kind of narrative akin to what was happening at the time, if you look for long enough.

Can you share with me about your practice? What’s your relationship with drawing?

It’s silly, but half of the time I’m just looking for a conduit for the color. Something worthy, or fitting for what already exists. There are patches of color on several pieces because I couldn’t think of an object to carry it, so it had to sit by itself. That’s why I gravitate toward flowers, ceramics, needlepoint and paintings, generally they’re carriers. I never kept going from drawing, I borderline obstinately cling to it. There’s something deeply intimate about the confluence of body and paper that occurs when drawing, especially for something that eventually becomes closed and visual. Its origin is very corporeal. It’s tactile and close in nature, making it difficult to cover pathos, which is probably why I gravitate to neutral, beautiful imagery.

Where do you find inspiration? These pieces have a tuned observational quality that feel rooted in focused contemplation, while also feeling playful and spirited. How long do you hold onto a composition in your mind before penning it down?

I recently forgave myself for using the same images over and over again. It used to feel like cheating. It’s not so much a composition that sits in my mind, as a grab bag. They get filtered out, usually, but for a period of time I have the same go to’s. Then it becomes about how to get started, what to grab for to start the process.

So how do you typically start? Does one object lead to the next in a way that surprises you or is left to chance? Or do you have a vision and render it holistically?

It’s always a big surprise. Some of the worst beginnings to pieces end up being my favorite if I can make myself back off and go to bed. Lately it’s been starting with either these made up flowers I do on almost every piece, or with chunks of colored pencil scribble. Those usually act as an anchor for me, then I can spin rotate the paper accordingly. Pretty often the end product exists in a position it didn’t start with.

Who are some of your favorite artists? What influences you the most?

It’s hard to keep track. I love Agnes Martin, Frank Stella’s protractor paintings, Louise Nevelson’s prints, Rauschenberg, Shirley Jaffe, Leon Golub, Hockney. Dead people, is a general theme. But I’m so excited by what’s being made now. I’m a fan girl for Matthew Brannon, who does these beautiful screen prints all about the Vietnam war. I research WWI as a hobby, but can never find a way to tie it into my work, and he’s found this amazingly sincere way to marry his clearly in depth and niche interest with his practice.

Interesting that you mention Brannons work, which is very narrative. Your work is quite narrative too, but in a different way- like the narrator has moved out and left only these objects behind. The viewer has to interpret it  in their own way in order to read it. Is this something that happens consciously or unconsciously?

Oh man, that's exactly the response I’m hoping for. One of my best friends said to me two years ago after I got dumped- “I’m so sorry, but your drawings get so good when you’re sad.” When I was working with undergrad students, I always did my best to ask them to expand past their own current emotional standing. I wanted them to use whatever emotional duress was taking over, but choose interesting content and subject matter outside of their specific personal stories. I used to only make drawings directly related to my personal life, but then it became so much more fulfilling to communicate in a drawing with nuance. Cups, windows, fruit, flowers, as much as they can be indicative of class, are generally things that everyone encounters. They can tell a story of me getting dumped so much better than I can.

I’m not surprised by some of your favorites :) I definitely see whispers of Hockney’s drawing style in your work. Do you think that place influences content for you? Might your imagery change when you move to New York?

That’s so cool!!! I’m sure place is playing its part. I’ve lived here my whole life, and as much as the content of my work harkens back to flowery language and art history, its definitely a result of having lived nowhere else. I hope it changes with the move! The medium doesn't change, but the imagery does, maybe once I’m somewhere else I’ll find a niche.