Lynne B. Clark
I’m excited to share my interview with Los Angeles-based mixed-media artist Lynne B. Clark. Lynne’s dioramic work is distinctive — she thinks of them as 21st century “cabinets of curiosity” where she explores her ideas and narratives.
Tell me about your background.
Beloved Detritus - Los Angeles 2.0 by Lynne B. Clark
I was the kind of ‘70s kid who was always making things: drawing, cutting, pasting and collaging with paper and ModPodge; saving, scavenging and sometimes pocketing tiny bits and bobs that I thought no one would miss; and cajoling teachers into letting me do dioramas instead of written reports. There was something incredibly therapeutic about creating self-contained environments or mini-worlds over which I could have total control. As a young introvert in an extrovert's world, making art helped me express myself and make sense of the world and my place in it.
I majored in Studio art/Art history and minored in Spanish/Latino Studies at Scripps College, a small liberal arts women's college that is part of the Claremont Colleges consortium in Claremont, California. There, I studied figure drawing, watercolor, ceramics, and fiber arts, all of which gave me a really well rounded arts education. What excited me most were my mixed-media classes with Paul Darrow, the wonderfully talented and kind teacher and artist. His entire studio classroom was filled with all types of remnants from a local junkyard — metal parts from broken machines, old fabric and clothing, wooden boxes, books from the trash, and detritus of all kinds. We students were essentially set free to make and build whatever 2-D or 3-D piece we wanted, as long as we could talk about what we made in a meaningful way during our weekly critiques. I really enjoyed working with items that had been discarded or overlooked; that attraction to found objects has continued to stay with me in my artistic practice today.
Chutes and Ladders by Lynne B. Clark
Like many of us with art degrees, I graduated without a clue as to what I would do next to support myself. Fortunately, I was able to find work in the field of non-profit fundraising and spent over a decade at the UCLA Fowler Museum of Art as its Director of Development. The Fowler's world-class collections comprise holdings of ancient, traditional, and contemporary cultures from around the world. It was such a treat to work with the Museum's amazing curators, artists, objects, and exhibitions and actually get paid for it! I learned so much, and at the same time, was inspired aesthetically by the artistic diversity of objects from global peoples, cultures and religions.
Later, after getting married and becoming a new mom to two sons in quick succession, I launched my own small consulting business to help area museums and arts-related organizations on their fundraising strategies. With this change came extra flexibility and freedom to dedicate my time and attention to creating art once again. Soon I was a featured fiber artist at the Annenberg Community Beach House Gallery and then, in 2017, became a member of a local women’s co-op gallery in Santa Monica.
Chutes and Ladders (detail) by Lynne B. Clark
What ideas are you exploring in your work and how does working in multi-media help you explore those ideas?
Much of my work tends to look at facets of childhood and adolescence, notions of beauty and plainness, youth and aging, and guilt and shame, as well as mental health and gender/self-identity. Because I see these ideas as so multi-faceted, I’ve always felt that mixed-media — with its endless textures, shapes, and dimensionality — is the best way for me to explore and express them. I have always been interested in how the things we collect, use, play with, consume, and discard both reflect and are informed by the social constructs of these ideas, so I suppose it’s no surprise that found objects and narratives are often integral to my work. Because the objects and materials I work with are “used,” they already have their own embedded narratives. I like extending their real or imagined narratives or inventing new ones.
I think of my dioramas as 21st-century "cabinets of curiosity" and they are perhaps my favorite place to explore ideas and use narrative. My earliest works played with anecdotes from my colorful family history, my loving yet tenuous relationship with my mom, failed romantic liaisons, and how depression, which has run in my family for generations (but is never discussed), was part of my DNA. Other works celebrate childhood whimsy and fantasy. Rather than a full narrative, I think of them as a launching point for a pick-your-own-adventure story. They spark joy for me. I think we sometimes forget how important that is. More recently, my work has become larger and of a more personal and intimate nature, examining issues of gender and equity and the messages we learn or tell ourselves as women at all stages in life.
Describe your process.
The objects that make up my artwork come from back alleys and trash cans, thrift stores, and yard sales; I try to avoid buying new things as much as possible. Some items I've had sitting around for 20+ years; other times, friends and strangers give me tiny objects or items magically appear on my doorstep. I am usually working on at least two pieces at any time. I always feel like the objects themselves tell me what to do with them. I like to lay out the objects on a large table in my studio and move them around continually until they find their “homes”/ the right place to "live."
Chutes and Ladders (detail) by Lynne B. Clark
Who are some of your influences?
Artists like Duchamp, Cornell, and Rauschenberg first opened my eyes to mixed-media and object-centered art in a big way. Soon after, I fell in love with the grand wood sculptures of Louise Nevelson, the intimate quilted narratives of Faith Ringold, and the sculpture and mixed-media work of Betye Saar and her daughter Alison Saar, who both explore the Black experience in a unique and personal way. Other work that inspires me includes the monumental recycled metal "tapestries" of El Anatsui, the wildly imaginative Soundsuits of Nick Cave, and the patchwork quilts by the talented women artists of Gee's Bend. Equally inspirational to me are Mexican ceramics, especially Trees of Life, colorful African print cloth, and the Botánicas found across Los Angeles, where you can buy tiny talismans to ward off evil, candles for good fortune, and all other matter of medicinal, healing, and religious needs and services.
What ideas are you exploring in your work and how does working in multi-media help you explore those ideas?
Much of my work tends to look at facets of childhood and adolescence, notions of beauty and plainness, youth and aging, and guilt and shame, as well as mental health and gender/self-identity. Because I see these ideas as so multi-faceted, I’ve always felt that mixed-media — with its endless textures, shapes, and dimensionality — is the best way for me to explore and express them. I have always been interested in how the things we collect, use, play with, consume, and discard both reflect and are informed by the social constructs of these ideas, so I suppose it’s no surprise that found objects and narratives are often integral to my work. Because the objects and materials I work with are “used,” they already have their own embedded narratives. I like extending their real or imagined narratives or inventing new ones.
I think of my dioramas as 21st-century "cabinets of curiosity" and they are perhaps my favorite place to explore ideas and use narrative. My earliest works played with anecdotes from my colorful family history, my loving yet tenuous relationship with my mom, failed romantic liaisons, and how depression, which has run in my family for generations (but is never discussed), was part of my DNA. Other works celebrate childhood whimsy and fantasy. Rather than a full narrative, I think of them as a launching point for a pick-your-own-adventure story. They spark joy for me. I think we sometimes forget how important that is. More recently, my work has become larger and of a more personal and intimate nature, examining issues of gender and equity and the messages we learn or tell ourselves as women at all stages in life.
Earthbox by Lynne B. Clark
Describe your process.
The objects that make up my artwork come from back alleys and trash cans, thrift stores, and yard sales; I try to avoid buying new things as much as possible. Some items I've had sitting around for 20+ years; other times, friends and strangers give me tiny objects or items magically appear on my doorstep. I am usually working on at least two pieces at any time. I always feel like the objects themselves tell me what to do with them. I like to lay out the objects on a large table in my studio and move them around continually until they find their “homes”/ the right place to "live."
Who are some of your influences?
Artists like Duchamp, Cornell, and Rauschenberg first opened my eyes to mixed-media and object-centered art in a big way. Soon after, I fell in love with the grand wood sculptures of Louise Nevelson, the intimate quilted narratives of Faith Ringold, and the sculpture and mixed-media work of Betye Saar and her daughter Alison Saar, who both explore the Black experience in a unique and personal way. Other work that inspires me includes the monumental recycled metal "tapestries" of El Anatsui, the wildly imaginative Soundsuits of Nick Cave, and the patchwork quilts by the talented women artists of Gee's Bend. Equally inspirational to me are Mexican ceramics, especially Trees of Life, colorful African print cloth, and the Botánicas found across Los Angeles, where you can buy tiny talismans to ward off evil, candles for good fortune, and all other matter of medicinal, healing, and religious needs and services.
Share three artists you are loving on Instagram right now.
Melanie Bilenker - I'm obsessed with Melanie's miniature portraits made of human hair
Dwora Fried - Dwora makes cool dioramas that are simultaneously political and poignant
Claudy Jongstra - Claudy is an amazing fiber artist and advocate for a healthy planet and is finally being recognized for her genius
Can you divulge the best advice you have received as an artist?
From the writings of the venerable Sister Corita Kent (1918-1986):
The only rule is work. If you work it will lead to something. It's the people who do all of the work all of the time who eventually catch on to something.
Don't try to create and analyze at the same time. They are different processes.
Nothing is a mistake. There is no win and no fail. Only make.
Mother’s Trophysercie Given by Lynne B. Clark
What’s one of the best things someone has said about your artwork?
A woman once described my work as "wistful, kitschy, and full of memories, but modern at the same time...like eye candy for the soul. "
Erin Davies, a writer and longtime friend, has described my work as "capturing what it means to be human, filtered through (her) signature lens of beauty, compassion, and wit."
What are you working on now?
Like many artists right now, everything has come to a bit of a standstill for me. My first one- woman show was cancelled just one day after it opened in March 2020 due to Covid-19, and, sadly, the gallery space itself has now closed for good.
I’m very proud of the central piece I created for that show, which is also the largest piece I’ve ever made, entitled "Chutes and Ladders: The Female Edition”. I think of it as a visual history of my life specifically and many women's lives in general. It spans girlhood to teen-hood to womanhood, to becoming a wife, and then a mother, and so on. The piece plays like the actual Chutes and Ladders game, where milestones and accolades can send you up the few available staircases and mistakes, criticism, and self-doubt send you hurtling back down the many slides, causing setbacks and delaying progress. A variety of written messages are included along the way, all of which I have heard at some point in my life: Aren't you a cute little girl?; Beauty is skin deep; You'd be so pretty if you only wore make-up/lost weight; Speak up!; Stop talking!; You're not Ivy League material; Sometimes men cheat, but they really shouldn't tell you; You can have it all; You can't have everything and expect to have children, etc.
Another work is titled "Mother's Trophy: Service Given." Here, you'll find tiny high heel shoes and baby bottles sitting below a "skirt" of Cub Scout badges you earned for camping and candy sales. Above is a spinning disc topped with Prozac pills and actual trophies for businesswomen (in short skirts no less), athletes and cheerleader/majorettes; and a working slot machine to try your luck at motherhood.
I’m hoping to find a new home for this show once the pandemic subsides.
Since last March, I've been taking commissions to draw people's homes and to create custom work. As you'll notice on Instagram, I'm a member of the Ten Woman Gallery, where I continue to sell dioramas of all sizes--often featuring animals in humorous scenarios, giclee prints from my alphabet bird collage series, handmade vintage tin jewelry, and a felt mouse here and there. For the past four years I’ve been a board member of reDiscover, a non-profit organization dedicated to developing children's creativity through hands-on making with sustainable materials.
Describe your dream project.
I would love to organize a collaborative and participatory show that includes a diverse group of artists who each exhibit personal Chutes and Ladders games, with enough works to fill an entire room. On a table below each work would be a simple life-size drawing of the piece where visitors would be encouraged to sit down and play against/with each other using die and game markers.
You can follow Lynne B. Clark on Instagram @LynneBClarkStudio.