We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Michelle Thomas Richardson a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.
Hi Michelle, thanks for joining us today. What’s been the most meaningful project you’ve worked on?
My most meaningful project would have to be Seeing Doubles, the culminating exhibition of my time at Tarleton State University as their Artist-in-Residence for the 2022-2023 academic year. For the exhibition, I continued to build the Screen Series, which responds to the 24-hour news cycle and the cyclical nature of history as portrayed through the media. Nearly 100 individual works echoing devices dating back to the 1890s forms a space that comments on the ongoingness of social issues with a feminist edge. Each piece acts as a singular moment in time which together play as a universal rerun, building today’s American landscape year by year. The concept of recycling stories and images over time evolves as a physical mass [using stacked cardboard boxes]: a construction, a makeshift altarpiece, a landfill. The resulting interior space houses a short hand-drawn animation in an intimately scaled space similar to an average safe room or walk-in closet. Layering contrasting elements, the work alludes to a dichotomic reality that teeters between periods of time, modes of sacred and secular, and mediums of art.
While this might seem like an easy choice because it is the latest installation, it is significant to me because it holds many firsts for my studio practice. It was my first residency, and with it, my first funded idea. It was my first architectural installation truly building my own space, and it served as an introduction of new media within the work. Many of the individual works in Seeing Doubles were the results of experimentation with firsts creating patterns from my studio’s developing iconography – in particular the Ruby Series – evidenced in drawings, surface works, and sewn, stuffed patterns. The installation made so many new connections between ideas and bodies of work, which is exciting because it offers a whole new world of possibilities. It is the first time I had [TSU student] assistants to help make and install artwork, which I am still grateful for! This is especially true because, perhaps most importantly, it was my first solo show since becoming a mom. It was one of my proudest moments to bring my family to “come see Mommy’s art show” – in fact, it was my twins’ first art show!
Seeing Doubles led to a subsequent exhibition titled (store)Front at Box13 Artspace, a wonderful artist-run gallery in Houston, Texas. I would say this is the first truly traveling exhibition/installation, though they were different iterations. Viewing the work in a new, more intimate context allowed me to see and think about the work differently. As a starting point, the gallery window acted as a dividing plane that played with perspective, teetering between dimensions of space. Placing my work in this space drew parallels to art history and periods of time using the existing architecture of the gallery: the interior echoed the Rothko Chapel (1971), a mere 15 minutes from the space; the exterior echoed television stores from the 1950s and 1960s. With this in mind, the store(Front) became a collision of worlds past and present.
My work’s foundation is connections in space – it was all about seeing the space fully. Nearly 10 years later, that investigation has expanded to include time in a multitude of ways. However, it is the perspectival shifts that are becoming more and more important to my work. Overall, this last year has felt like a next-level of making that I can’t turn back from. That in itself is meaningful to me. The connections between time, space, art history, mediums, series of works, and the momentum that is building up are sincerely exciting. To me, the possibilities within this body of work are endless and the deep-dives into technique that this work has inspired will only lead to more. One thing is for sure: every time a new installation goes up, I live with it for a bit, and then I’m ready to keep pushing towards another. It may take longer to achieve large scale work these days, but I’ve found a richness in that space as well.
As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that, can you take a minute to give our readers some of your background and context?
Overall, my work today investigates perception of our lived environment(s) primarily through immersive installations. The foundation for the work I make today probably began when I was a first-year architecture student. I decided to change to a fine arts major, thinking I would never use anything I learned in architecture classes again, but the abstract, detailed ways we learned to think about space stuck with me and reappeared years later. It all started with a 2two-sided fabric drawing that ultimately fit a wall, corner to corner and ceiling to floor. Suddenly the work was also architectural, a plane of space, a soft flat sculpture, and it changed everything. My work became very site specific after that, where the exhibition space itself became a part of the work and perspectival shifts were top of mind.
Then, about six years ago, I became a public art project manager, at a time when the word “public” was becoming all-to-important. Public art changed my perspective on space, particularly noticing the time and history it holds. I began to embed content that connected current events to historic events within a carefully considered installation space. In recent years, this has developed further through multiple series of smaller works that become “playdough” for larger installations. The ideas and the materials not only lend themselves to repetition but are transferable and makeable into something else. Though most of my work is temporary and experiential, I hope some future installations may become permanent.
Can you tell us about a time you’ve had to pivot?
In March 2020, not only did everything shut down, but I had just moved to a new home and found out I was pregnant. I couldn’t make much art during that time, but I did a lot of other art-related things: I read books pertaining to things I wanted to do in my own work; I took an online bookmaking class which has inspired several new projects; and, I completed a small sketchbook for The Sketchbook Project, which included a number of ruby patterns I later used in the exhibition Seeing Doubles. When the twins arrived, I read to them every night for bedtime. There for a while, I would read them one of their books, and then I would read them an art article from my phone. I continued to find small ways to stay engaged, in whatever manner I could. And I kept close some wise words from my major professor Annette Lawrence, who once told me, “It’s ok to not have anything coming up. Life gets busy. Your studio will be waiting for you when you are ready for it.” And that statement rang so true. Last summer, I saw the TSU residency opportunity come up. It was my first proposal application in some time, and I am so glad that I chose to wait for the right time for me to jump back in. It’s not important what you are or are not doing, or how often, it’s just important that you do something.
We often hear about learning lessons – but just as important is unlearning lessons. Have you ever had to unlearn a lesson?
A lesson that came with some unlearning is how to sustain an art practice, which is different for everyone. The mentality I’ve spent time unlearning is whatever you just finished is instantly “old.” In school, you make work at a fast pace – you experiment, explore concept(s), etc. (and you maybe don’t sleep as much as you should). But as soon as you show something once it feels “old” and, to me, that is not sustainable. Artworks you’re proud of should get some mileage – exhibit it a few times in different places, with different artist groupings, and in different types of exhibitions. Put your work in different visual conversations that can be seen by new viewers with fresh perspectives. You’ll be surprised at what you learn about your work. Not to mention, you deserve to see it in the world!
A step further in sustainability is unlearning that once something is finished you have to keep it (and store it) forever. For me in particular, as soon as the first piece of the installation is removed it is no longer art; rather, it is material. Though I have images and notes, any future installation would never be in the exact same space, so the artwork will never be the exact same – this acknowledgement has been key. Some small works that may have been part of an installation are stand alone artworks and some are supplemental only; some supplemental material can be kept and repurposed, and some cannot. Earlier installations certainly have a sentimental quality that is hard to let go of, but as time goes on, I’ve focused my energy on making work that is part of a larger whole and by viewing my studio holistically, my practice has become much more sustainable. I can still focus on large-scale work, but I’m not limiting myself to only that. By working on pieces that are building blocks (literally in some cases!) towards big ideas, my work can be in conversation with work by others, can be collected on occasion, and can be developed at a pace that motivates me to continue [because I can see myself moving the needle]. During a season of life where studio time is unpredictable, this helps me tackle big ideas in manageable ways and that is invaluable to me.
Contact Info:
- Website: www.michellethomasrichardson.com
- Instagram: @mtrichrdson.studio
- Facebook: Michelle Thomas Richardson