About the artist: “Her practice and research investigate methods that compress complex experiences, histories and ethical dilemmas into simple gestures through projection, moving image, sound, sculpture and performance.”
Jen> It all started during an artist residency in regional Victoria at an agricultural college. I arrived there in spring when the fields were bustling with new life and the crops were in full bloom. I spent many days with heavily pregnant cows at the schools robotic milking shed, hoping to witness a birth. Before this, I had worked with cattle in early 2022 when creating an artwork for the Gertrude Street Projection Festival featuring licking behavioural patterns. Materiality plays a large part also, as my research led me to bovine by-products, which in turn led to cattle gut harp strings. Tendrils tend to grow along the way and the artwork develops naturally as I follow my interests.
For instance, the idea for Sediment, came from wanting to translate sound to an animal. Snakes essentially hear through vibrations in their jawbone so they have an embodied auditory experience. I was interested in capturing the visual traces of their encounter translated further through the medium of film.
Jen> Raising a glass with friends and family and sharing the work with them is always special. That said, my projects never feel like they have concluded concretely, I think that the ideas always have potential to be explored further. The project may pause for an exhibition to share current outcomes; however, the work will continue.
Jen> The theme of regeneration is in tune with my practice—it evokes biorhythms, life cycles, finding beauty in finality and catching the fleeting poetic experiences that punctuate our existence. My artworks are vessels which hold these moments. When you share your work with others - are there any key emotions or reactions that you want them to have? What and why? Intrigue is important for moving image work. Unlike, say, a painting where a viewer might take a minute to observe its content before moving on, a video artwork often requires the audience to sit and watch and consider it over longer period – my works are around 10 minutes each in length. That doesn’t sound like much, but it is when in a gallery where people typically experience artworks by wandering around them. If interest is piqued early on, the audience are set to experience their own associations that the work conjures. I’m more curious about how the work is operating without me saying a word, “What does it bring up for you?”
Jen> Smartphones are an excellent resource for notetaking, recording sound, image documentation and filming. I remember watching the feature Tangerine (2015) which was shot completely on an Iphone and thinking it was remarkable. I loved the attitude behind it—Don't have a lot of resources? Make the work anyway. That’s very punk rock.
Jen> This May I was in Paris presenting at the International Symposium of Electronic Art, which brings artists from around the world together to speak about their practises. That was an amazing experience. It’s delightful to discover that people on opposite sides of the planet, who speak different languages, are making similar lines of inquiry in their work. Symposiums, conferences and artist residencies are all important for international exposure and context. They give structure and dedicated time to expanding my way of thinking about art globally, across cultures.
Jen> Any and all of the artists involved with Fluxus activities in the 60s and 70s—like when Nam June Paik jumped into the audience in the middle of a piano concert to cut off John Cage’s necktie, signalling that his performance was over—as soon as I read about these artists I was hooked. They dared to be cheeky while also being brilliant.
Jen> When I was fresh out of high-school I got a job as a film projectionist and after the cinema closed for the night I used to ride my bike home along the Tamaki Bay coastline. I grew fond of being close to the ocean at night, when the sea is black and the only thing that can be heard is the tide. It’s utterly peaceful. If I’m away from water, I’ll be somewhere with a single malt from Islay in hand listening to records.
Jen> While a student, the late Australian artist John Nixon said to me, “If you’re not enjoying art school, you’re just an arsehole,” which made me laugh. He wasn’t inferring that I was an arsehole, rather that if artists take it all too seriously, we will miss out on the fun and the magic of it all. Sage advice. He is deeply missed.
Jen> Being constantly surprised by where my work takes me. There is so much serendipity in making art and it gives me an appreciation for details I wouldn't otherwise give any notice to. Say, the various shades of aged steel observed on a backyard shed might inform the colour grade for my next film.... making art is about being responsive. If you pay attention, the artwork will find you.
Find out more about Jen at https://jenvalender.com or @jenvalender