Alumni Artist-in-Residence 2023: Paul Peng

Hell in the Summer, graphite on paper, 28 in. by 20 in.

Peng discusses breaking free from artistic blocks, moving beyond the studio, and finding freedom in the 9-5.

When I sit down to call Paul Peng, he first appears on screen beaming a smile. Peng confesses he’s just finished another virtual meeting; “If I seem a bit tired at the start of this call, it’s because I am.” I’m charmed by this candor, his willingness to disclose what’s going on in his world. This same earnestness carries us through the rest of the call, a two and a half hour conversation, which spans in focus from his studio practice to DDR competitions. It’s 1:30 p.m. on a Wednesday, the most notorious slog hour of the work week and I too am a bit tired, however, the energy soon takes off. It’s not long until the general spark of the conversation has us both alight.

It’s been six years since Peng last attended Ox-Bow. In that time his relationship with his studio space, artistic practice, and career have changed significantly. A longstanding element of Peng’s practice is cartoon work, but his associations and explorations of this work have proved adaptive over the years. From 2017 to 2022, Peng rooted his work in exploring similarities between cartoon and mark making. By exploring their shared nature, Peng produced a number of works. This investigation he pinpoints as a significant shift in his practice. He noted laughingly that others might not be able to notice the shift, but he viewed it as a driving force that propelled him forward. However, in 2022 that curiosity found its end. Peng initially tried to continue the exploration, but realized the effort was forced. The question had gone stale.

Ground, graphite on paper, 38 in. by 50 in.

Peng next began to focus on object oriented ontology, most typically associated with sculpture, and applied it to his drawing practice. The goal was to create drawings that were actual objects and not representations. Peng produced a number of works based on this investigation. He laughs as he recalls, “I made some very strange drawings,” and ultimately realized “cartoons are representational, no matter how much I don’t want them to be… they are.” In retrospect, he recognizes it as a strategy to break free of his block. While it successfully did that, it more importantly made Peng realize that this was just another fashion in which he was “radically changing how [he] made art to match how [he] thought about art.” Now “instead of trying to change my art to match the way I think,” Peng recognizes, “I need to change the way I think to match my art.” This is the philosophy that Peng leans into today, an attitude that produces work indisputably authentic to the artist.

In similar spirit, Peng enjoys investigating how space affects his practice. Some of his favorite drawings of late have been produced in coffee shops. Though he still keeps a studio space, he finds freedom in pursuing his work beyond those walls. To only produce work in the studio, he finds, limits the scope of what he can produce. Just as thoughts can restrict artistic expression, so too can spatial influences.

Like many artists, Peng has juggled a number of jobs to pay the bills. After graduating from his MFA program, he navigated a variety of part time teaching contracts. He resisted committing to a nine-to-five for fear of the toll it would take on his artistic practice, but Peng found the financial pressure of these part time contracts to be a burden that still siphoned energy from his creative goals. He came to the conclusion, “I can't continue living life in fear… under this assumption that having a full time day job would like completely drain… because I'm already experiencing that through this weird part time gig.” So in 2018 he picked up a job in coding.

In undergrad Peng had studied computer science alongside studio art. “And no I didn’t do it as a safety net,” he chided. He insisted that for the sake of his soul, he needed to study computer science. He truly loved the world of math and programming. When he returned to it in 2018, he experienced an incredible relief as a he realized, “my life is big enough for more than one passion.” 

Over the past few years Peng has been creating more and more space for his variety of interests. He first felt this sense of permission at Ox-Bow as a student. “Ox-Bow was the first time where I experienced this environment where art didn't feel like it was in a zero sum game with the rest of my life,” Peng said. As it turns out, Peng lives a life filled with an abundance of pursuits, two of the more recent ones being DDR competitions and trips to amusement parks. He disclosed, only half joking, he might organize a trip to the local coaster park in Michigan this summer. As he anticipates his return to Ox-Bow, Peng hopes for equal parts work and play. Just as much as time in the studio, Peng looks forward to time to “frolic on the meadow” and venture out on the lagoon with canoes, to let art and life sit in an unencumbered exchange with one another, and to delight in whatever arrives. 

Birthday, graphite on paper, 38 in. by 50 in.

Photo of Paul Peng. Image courtesy of the artist.

Paul Peng (b. 1994, Allentown, PA; pronounced “Pung”) is a contemporary artist who makes non-representational and cartoon drawings based on what it feels like to be a real person. This feeling comes from his adolescent experience witnessing and participating in an internet-based folk art tradition of sad closeted teens drawing pictures of themselves as anthropomorphic fantasy creatures, anime monster boys, and other cartoons of things that they are not. Paul is currently interested in how his art practice directly extends this tradition: how his work, born from queer teen anguish, exists under conditions where that anguish used to exist but no longer does.

Paul graduated from Carnegie Mellon University in 2017 with a BCSA in Computer Science and Art, and has also studied classical drawing at Barnstone Studios in Coplay, PA (2013) and experimental drawing right here at Ox-Bow (2017). Alongside his art practice, Paul is a roller coaster enthusiast, a programming language design hobbyist, and an aspiring long-distance runner and competitive DanceDanceRevolution player. He currently lives and works from Pittsburgh, PA.

If you have news or stories you’d like to share about your time at Ox-Bow or beyond, you can contact Engagement Liaison & Storyteller, Shanley Poole, at spoole@ox-bow.org.

Alumni Artist-in-Residence 2023: bex ya yolk

The Mother and the copy, the copy, the copy, the copy…, 2022, paper, poplar wood, walnut stain, wood glue, 11x 26 in.

Book binder and maker bex ya yolk speaks to their passions: queering the maternal complex, broadening the cannon, and (of course) bookmaking.

“Thungry is a neologism,” Artist bex ya yolk explains, “a combination of two words: thirst and hunger.” THUNGRY is also the name of yolk’s independent book bindery. That evocation, hunger and thirst, encompasses how the bookmaking process started for yolk. “It’s kind of a compulsion,” they share, “I’m not a religious person, but I felt called to make books.” The process began in undergrad through their studies in graphic design. Yolk noted laughingly that most artists might make one or two artist books over their career to capture a specific exhibition or collection, but yolk had stumbled into making a whole practice out of book bindery.

Amidst the indie press community, yolk finds a distinct importance and sense of hope. “The publishing cannon in America, in capitalist America, is failing,” yolk says. In contrast, they see indie presses stepping in to fill the gap, “They’re carving out ways to exist and move forward,” and the contributions of indie presses and binderies are broadening the canon. It is yolk’s desire that THUNGRY will elevate and partner with queer and BIPOC artists. Collaboration, yolk specifies, is a core part of the work.

In general, collaboration is not uncommon in the world of indie presses. For yolk, partnerships keep the work engaging. There is a loss of control that they understand to be daunting, yet essential. They find that within collaborative work “it becomes more experiential, you’re excited about the literal joy of making, which gets lost when you’ve been doing this [alone] for a couple years.” To add a collaborator is to lose certainty, and thereby reinsert mystery. “We do this to connect with other people. Very simply, I am doing this to have someone else be like, ‘Yeah, me too,’” a moment and affirmation, which happens organically and in live time with collaborators.

Book Belly (the first prototype)/ 2021, acrylic, screenprint ink, zinc-plated wood joiners, nylon straps, matte, sealant, 13 x 45 x 7.5 x 1/8 in.

In addition to yolk’s bindery, they also have a rich research and writing practice rooted most substantially in exploration of the maternal complex. Their work asks, “What does it look like when that maternal narrative or that internal need is still there, but it might not be performed in this way that is traditional.” They call the theory they’re developing “the new maternal,” another facet of which includes degendering and queering the maternal. Yolk describes the maternal at its core as a care ethic of protection and nurturance. Even giving attention to something (a person or creative practice) qualifies. By this definition and in yolk’s words “everyone has the propensity for the maternal.” Plant care, teaching art classes, feeding the cat, walking the dog all become a part of the complex. 

The research has led to deeply speculative work for yolk. “I’m not really looking for an answer,” they admit. “It’s about posing questions.” This too seems to echo their collaborative work. The stories of others propel yolk forward. They spoke candidly of trauma they faced in the medical system and how what they encountered inspired them to speak loudly about what many AFAB and non-binary people face within the medical system. “I don't have any shame or embarrassment about the things that I've gone through in the healthcare system… I'm very open about that… because if I do [stay silent] they win.” By speaking out, yolk is finding ways not only to empathize and connect with others, but also to resist and destabilize the system that perpetuates this traumatization of AFAB and non-binary people.

Yolk also sees the maternal manifesting within the physicality of books themselves. A book can be seen as both a womb and a shelter. While yolk describes this similarity as a coincidence, it’s one that they’ve embraced within their work. Consequently, feminist theory has woven itself into many of their recent books. This can be seen explicitly in their works “Womb Cage” as well as the wearable “Book Belly,” while other pieces are more intrinsic in their maternal nature such as “Texture Notes,” which was created with handmade paper that yolk produced during their first summer at Ox-Bow.

Womb Cage Book, 2021, muslin, PVA, thread, polyester stuffing, basalt + limestone, 11 x 13 x 1.5 in.

Throughout conversation with yolk, they kept returning to the idea of connecting with others: “If we're really gonna strip away all of the pomp and circumstance… at the core of it, it's about connecting to someone else or a group of people,” yolk says. This summer they hope to continue to do just that through their work as an Artist-in-Residence and as co-faculty for Riso-Relations & Bookish Behavior. They cite books as a powerful material, an object which has been tied for millennia to the human experience. Yolk plans to investigate the intersection of performance and storytelling. They’re asking the question, “How can we explore storytelling through sculpture or dance or movement or sound or voice?” in hopes that their time at Ox-Bow can be, perhaps not a firm answer, but (even more satisfyingly) an exploration of this inquiry.

Headshot of bex ya yolk. Image courtesy of the artist.

Yolk feels this is a project destined for Ox-Bow. “I felt comfortable proposing this as a thing that could only really flourish at Oxbow… because I’ve already spent time there and understand its culture.” Part of this process, yolk feels, is a method of giving back to the campus, which significantly nurtured their own practice. Ox-Bow in turn waits eagerly in hopes of all that this project will surely evolve into.

If you have news or stories you’d like to share about your time at Ox-Bow or beyond, you can contact Engagement Liaison & Storyteller, Shanley Poole, at spoole@ox-bow.org.

Alumni Artist-in-Residence 2023: Mia Rollins

Alumni Mia Rollins talks process, permission, and the spring board that Ox-Bow provided for their work.

Mia Rollins is an artist whose work utilizes video installation sculptures to experiment with optical illusion, investigate scientific hypotheses, and journey into the mystical. While Rollins’s work takes big bites, it never seems to be more than they can chew, even when they go, in their words, “knocking on the door of a nuclear reactor.”

Early in undergrad at Brown, Rollins considered studying physics or environmental science, but it was ultimately the arts department that lured them. It was in the studio that they felt compelled to explore scientific principles and theories that had almost tempted them into a career of lab coats.

Prodigal (I-440W), May 2021, video projected on salt and cake installation, 1 x 7 x 7 ft. (as installed, dimensions variable), 3 min 45 sec (loop).

While Rollins incorporates and utilizes various aspects of their past in their work – their pursuit of becoming a professional figure skater, their father’s obsession with camcorders, their affection for physics – they still rank their first summer at Ox-Bow as one of the most significant pivot points in their career.

“My first time I went was really a huge shifting point in my practice… the Visiting Artist while I was there was Dario Robleto.” Rollins had been an admirer of Robleto’s work since age 15 when they listened to his feature on Radio Lab. “It was the first work to make me cry just conceptually,” they shared. During Robleto’s first visit to Rollins studio at Ox-Bow, the admiration was returned. Rollins still sounds giddy when they describe that initial interaction.

“It was one of those weird things... He watched one of my pieces and he was like ‘That was the best work I’ve seen in years.’” From then on, Robleto and Rollins became fast friends, while Robleto also served as a mentor to Rollins. He gave them one particularly impactful piece of advice: to knock on doors. He confided with Rollins that after 30 years, no scientist had ever knocked on his door, and that many scientists he’d called had said no, but a few said yes, a few had opened their doors.

Headshot of Mia Rollins. Image courtesy of the Artist.

Liberated by Robleto’s advice, Rollins started taking initiative. “That motivation changed everything for me. I went back to Providence and I just started doing that… talking to researchers at Brown University who were studying the brain and dementia.” That initiative propelled them forward. “The nuclear reactor residency came out of knocking on a door of a nuclear reactor,” which further down the road led to a NASA Grant. According to Rollins, “It was totally all due to meeting [Robleto] at Ox-Bow.” While not every situation ends in NASA Grants, Rollins time at Ox-Bow encapsulates much of what residencies strive to provide: a time to build community with other artists, to take risks in one’s practice, and to leave not just refreshed but emboldened. 

If you have news or stories you’d like to share about your time at Ox-Bow or beyond, you can contact Engagement Liaison & Storyteller, Shanley Poole, at spoole@ox-bow.org.

Header Image: Sominum (Transmission I), June 2022, video projection on sprayed haze clouds and parametric, arcylic dishes, 12 x 10 x 10 ft. (as installed- dimensions variable), 7 min 15 sec (loop).

Archive Deep Dives with Abbey Muza

Dogfight, Chewey and Baby, 2022; silk, wool, cotton, organza, enamel, wood; 26” x 48”

Artist Abbey Muza.

Congratulations to Abbey Muza (2022 Fellow) on their Fulbright-Harriet Hale Wooley Residency at the Fondation des États-Unis. Muza is currently participating in their Artist Residency in Paris, France, where they have begun a series of tapestries inspired by queer artists and writers of Paris. Much of Muza’s residency involves diligent research in the archives, similar to the work they conducted while at Ox-Bow as the Leroy Neiman Historic Preservation Fellow. In a Q&A Muza shared they were “delighted to learn that Ox-Bow’s history is actually linked to what [they’re] looking at in Paris.” The beloved caretaker of Ox-Bow, Mary Kay Bettles lived on campus for years with her partner Jean Palmer and Jean Palmer’s sister, the feminist writer Margaret C. Anderson – founder, editor, and publisher of The Little Review – eventually decamped to France and joined the bustling literary scene of Paris in the 1920’s, which Muza is now researching today.

Photo Caption: Archival Photo. Mary Kay, Jean Palmer, and Norm Deam enjoy a canoe ride on the lagoon.

Mary Kay’s Legacy

Jean Palmer and Mary Kay Bettles lived at Ox-Bow in one of the many quaint cottages scattered at the edge of the Tallmadge woods. The cabin the couple called home is now named the Mary Kay in honor of the woman many referred to lovingly as the Sheriff of Ox-Bow. Nowadays, the building is used as housing and studio space for Faculty, Students, and Visiting Artists… though guests might share the space with an unexpected visitor. Many individuals on campus have claimed to have encountered the spirit of Mary Kay in the cabin. Fittingly, the place has also become a staple feature at Ox-Bow Goes to Hell. This past weekend Artists participating in Residence Evil, dressed the cabin up in the spookiest of fashions creating a haunt we’re sure our visitors will remember for many moons to come. 

Photo Caption: Mary Kay crouches down to pet her dog on the meadow. Archival Photo.

Fun Fact:

Did you know about Mary Kay’s love of dogs? She was especially fond of her German Shepherds. Next time you’re on campus, pay Mary Kay’s old home a visit: you’ll find her tribute to one of her dear four legged friends behind the cabin.

If you have news or stories you’d like to share about your time at Ox-Bow or beyond, you can contact Engagement Liaison & Storyteller, Shanley Poole, at spoole@ox-bow.org.

Sharon Louise Barnes Awarded Fellowship by Los Angeles’s Department of Cultural Affairs

Image courtesy of Sharon Louise Barnes. Photo by Bria Goodall.

This year, Alumni Sharon Louise Barnes (2019 Longform Resident) was awarded the City of Los Angeles (COLA) Individual Master Artist Program. During her appointment, Barnes delivered a lecture entitled “Resistance, Resilience, and Radical Beauty” for the Los Angeles Municipal Art Gallery. In her lecture she shares about her latest work and the inspiration behind them, including excerpts of poetry from Gwendolyn Brooks. Barnes’s ongoing collection Seeds of Wind is centered in what the Artist calls “poetic materiality,” which she describes as “an evolving practice using discarded materials, abstraction, and poetic visual language.” 

Each year the Fellowship culminates in a collective online exhibition of the artists’ works. The collection is currently live and Barnes’s work is available for viewing. Hear more about Sharon Louise Barnes in COLA’s 2022 Design Visual Artist Feature.

We’re so thrilled to see the work of Sharon Louise Barnes being celebrated and honored in Los Angeles and beyond. Congratulations, Sharon!

If you have news or stories you’d like to share about your time at Ox-Bow or beyond, you can contact Engagement Liaison & Storyteller, Shanley Poole, at spoole@ox-bow.org.