Melanie McLain

Interview by Francesca Gavin

How you do experience space? American multidisciplinary artist Melanie McLain plays with the social dynamics and psychological experiences of the places we inhabit. Working with installations, performance, sculptures and videos–and often a fusion of these elements–she creates experimental locations that examine the limitations and possibilities of the body. Behind her work is a fascination with our psyche, how intimacy functions and the social structures and hierarchies of semi-public spaces. McLain has exhibited widely at venues including the ICA Philadelphia, Socrates Sculpture Park, and most notably at the Museo Tamayo in Mexico City, where she has lived for a number of years. Following McLain’s recent selection to the short list for the 2020 Foundwork Artist Prize, we connected to discuss her practice that exists in the intersection of art, design, architecture and movement.

Francesca Gavin (FG): Let’s start with your background. Did you always want to be an artist?

Melanie McLain (MM): I grew up in Tallahassee, Florida. I never really thought about being an artist because I didn't really like painting and drawing. I always was doing weird things—taking things apart and putting new things together. It wasn't until college when a friend of mine who was in art school came over to my apartment, saw all these little things I had made and was like, "Oh, you're an artist." I was like, "I am?" All of a sudden something just clicked. And then from then on out, it just went from there. I switched my major to art.

FG: Where were you studying?

MM: I studied at University of Florida. It's actually known for sciences. I ended up finishing up school with a degree in psychology and a degree in fine arts, focusing in sculpture.

FG: Obviously there is a very sculptural aspect to what you do. When did you start incorporating the body, like the living body, in what you do?

MM: In my second year at art school, I had done a few performance pieces or installations. I started doing things with video of myself, but not much early on. It suddenly occurred to me that I don't have to be in my performances. It sounds so obvious, but there was something that always felt the artist is the performer. In grad school I really started experimenting with that and using other people. Once that clicked, I felt like that just became a regular part of my practice going forward.

FG: Some of your work is about the intersection between objects and the human form. What do you like about the contrast of those two elements?

MM: I haven't necessarily thought about them as a contrast. I think about design and architecture as things made for the body in a way. Architecture on a large scale is made to house the body. It's made to direct the body and to move it through a space. I think it all kind of comes down to that. How the body interacts with space and objects is just as a regular part of being alive. Design and architecture also play into elements of control. Who is designing what and for whom? How it does shift the way we think and feel and behave in a space? How textures and colors form the layout of a space. It can affect our social interactions. I feel like it affects every aspect of our lives on a very subtle level. Sometimes it's obvious and sometimes it's affecting us subconsciously. It's not just physical—it's the psychological, the physical, the behavioral, emotional, all really tied into space and object.

Slow Contractions, 2019

Wood, formica, fabric, zippers, hand warmers

42 x 96 x 42 in.

FG: Some of your architectural reference and design references seem to be draw on modernism—that Bauhausian meeting point of function and aesthetic. Was that always an influence? Mexico, I might add, where you live is a place that has its own heritage of modernism.

MM: I've always been drawn aesthetically to that sort of design. I think some of it is just intuitively where I go. Some of the materials I use are sometimes very related to the body industry, like doctor's offices, spas. I'm starting to move out of that and also think about corporate institutional spaces that tend to have these very clean, organized lines. Color, is a very intuitive thing for me. I think that also happens with the design.

FG: You also seem to be using a lot of tiling. There's a textural element too. This shiny, slippery vibe.

MM: I started getting into tile when I made a piece that was like a large enclosed room that was heated and humidified. It had a performance and a video. I really wanted the floor to be tiled. I started liking this aspect of the relationship to these spaces oriented to the body, the sterility of these spaces. I was drawn to the tile because of the grid, but I was also very interested in terms of its relationship to a locker room—where it makes you simultaneously think about both sweat and messy bodies. And this ability to clean up the space somehow gives us comfort in these spaces to feel safe, to feel like it's hygienic. When thinking about the psychology of these spaces, these textures and materials that referenced the body industry became very prominent because of how intimate it is, physically intimate. How doctors and massage therapists touch you. You take off your clothes in front of them. I started thinking about what context leads us to feel safe and comfortable.

FG: Do you want to describe how the performative aspect of your work functions? Where do the ideas and choreography come from in your process?

MM: Well, it's been shifting somewhat. In the beginning I was really focused on choreography that was centered around, for example, a video. One of the first large installations I did with performance, it was a face massage that was choreographed to a video. I was talking about these body-oriented spaces, about creating a sense of vulnerability, but also comfort. And how the performance and the space and the whole context helps create that. The space was designed so that the other people in the space have walked down a ramp and are at eye level with you while you're receiving a face massage. There's this layering to this combination of vulnerability, comfort, intimacy, but in this semi-public situation. The last couple of performances I've done are more improvisational. I'm working with dancers where I give them a set of directions and I let them find a natural way of moving through the space and relating to the audience and relating to the other performers.

"Design and architecture also play into elements of control. Who is designing what and for whom? How it does shift the way we think and feel and behave in a space? How textures and colors form the layout of a space. It can affect our social interactions. I feel like it affects every aspect of our lives on a very subtle level."

FG: You only use female performers?

MM: I've only worked with women for the past seven years. It's because of the power dynamics I am addressing and the vulnerability I ask from the viewers. For me the performers inhabit the space as if it's their own, giving them a certain power and control over the space. I like that it is women in this role. Women, often dancers or acrobats, are trained to own space with their bodies, to feel comfortable extending and taking up space. This play with vulnerability and control is another reason why as the artist I don’t feel comfortable performing in my own work. I've had conversations with people about the relationship to power and the fact that my performers are always very physically abled, with more flexibility and agility than the average person. This is something I still think about and whether I should be pushing the choice of performers in another direction. For now, I still feel it's important to work with performers who have a similar build and physical ability to me, so they can relate to the forms in a similar way I do when creating them. But I am open to that changing and developing depending on where the projects take me.

FG: How have you choreographed performers recently?

MM: In the current show at Museo Tamayo, we really worked on how to form that connection between the two performers to where they become synchronized, even if they're not looking at each other. Their movements start to mirror each other or be in a similar kind of fluidity. The movements tend to be slower. They move around the sculpture and create a certain tension with their body and the sculpture. I think a lot about the tension and how the sculpture plays into that.

FG: There seems to be also something geometric in that process too. As if they are echoing the linear nature of the architecture.

MM: Yeah. My sculptures and installations develop simultaneously with the performance. I use my body a lot to find the performance and the piece. I have a background in acrobatics. Finding other people who have a similar flexibility or physical ability as me becomes important, because so much of it is built around my body and how I think about moving my body through the space. These linear geometrics mixed with some of the curve of bodily forms—it all has a logic around the body. I have certain positions or movements or interactions in mind when I build something. Working with the performers, that expands and grows and they find their own connections and I discover new things I didn't even think of.

Slow Moving Pressure Photo Series, 2019

Digital color prints

20 x 30 in.

FG: Is there an aural element? Is there a sound side of it or is it intentionally sound-less?

MM: There has been in some works. Usually the sound comes from either a video or from the performers. I've had them do very audible breathing or different bodily sounds. There was another performance where there was certain synchronized breathing between the performers and one where they were sort of hitting their body or the heel of their foot against the sculpture to create a little bit of a knocking sound, as if responding to each other.

FG: Do you want to tell me, do you always conceive of something as a whole? Or are the elements such as video, sculpture, photography or performance function as single works?

MM: Performance and the sculpture develop simultaneously—I can't separate those. I started just recently working with photography, which is based around the performances. I'll find these moments and take photographs of parts of the performance, sometimes staging the performers in a spot. They have come after the fact but are still tied to it. Especially the way that the sculptures sometimes crop the body. They become flattened, cropped images like compositions.

FG: In a lot of your pieces, there seem to be holes or orifices. Do you want to tell me what you like about those cavities?

MM: I like making spaces that crop the body. I like making these forms that feel like they have a sort of function, but without a performance you might not necessarily totally understand that function. A space where the performer slides through or somewhere where they kind of stick their knee through, or stare out of. They end up all being tied to some sort of idea of movement or body position or interaction. The viewer becomes a part of the performance. They enter the piece.

"My sculptures and installations develop simultaneously with the performance. I use my body a lot to find the performance and the piece. I have a background in acrobatics. Finding other people who have a similar flexibility or physical ability as me becomes important, because so much of it is built around my body and how I think about moving my body through the space."

FG: Since so much of your work is kind of made to be activated, how does it function for you after the activation, after the ephemeral gesture?

MM: The work definitely changes without the presence of the body. Sometimes I really like that. Without the performance the function is ambiguous, but as soon as there's a performer or a person in there that ambiguity is lost. I think that's something that I think about and play with.

FG: What are you depicting within the videos? Is it like a meta layer where you're seeing a depiction of the performance while there's a performance going on against photographs of the performance? I'm curious how the videos function.

MM: I haven't made any video in a while. I think I'm more interested in the live. The videos end up being very related to the performance—I would say the types of actions and movements. There's usually bodies involved. I think they become another way for the body to be involved, another layer to kind of add to the psychological aspect of experiencing the body of the performer who is interacting with the viewer through eye contact or touch. The viewer is also watching these other bodies move or interact in space. The videos become another way to set the tone of the piece, whether it's through a stillness in their movements, a strange static-ness, staring, or a specific kind of synchronized movement. It becomes a way to just add another layer to that experience, of how we experience other people and bodies psychologically.

FG: What are some of your current influences?

MM: I am very interested in psychology, specifically social psychology. Sometimes getting into very scientific articles about it. Sometimes just me observing certain interactions and my own sort of emotional and psychological states and shifts with other people or within a space, being very aware of different kinds of power dynamics that are created. I'm a pretty short person, just five feet one inch. I think that even just experiences that I've had where you're around other people that are taller than you, there's almost an automatic diminishing of confidence that is very subconscious. Sometimes I notice it around a bunch of towering figures. I feel smaller. I feel more invisible. I feel more shrunken. I feel like I have to give extra effort to feel like I have presence. So there's a lot of that kind of just observance of my own psychological shifts in certain situations, both socially and spatially that play into the work a lot.

FG: What are you reading at the moment?

MM: Invisible Women. It's about how design is shaped and is created often by men. How negatively women have been impacted by designs made by men. I found myself getting very emotional reading this because it's something that I think we as women know, but seeing it all laid out on a page, one thing after another, realizing how power dynamics are created and reinforced within the context of design. That's been super interesting.

Prepersonal, 2016

Acrylic sheet, wood, cast silicone, resin, stainless steel, lacrosse ball, latex paint, iPad, and headphones

72 x 60 x 36 in.

FG: The survival of women and structure of society is so skewed for a patriarchal system. It's fascinating... Can you tell me about the role of color in your practice, as that very much influences our psychological engagement with architectural space?

MM: Color is something I more intuitively feel out. I'm not consciously thinking about the psychological aspects. I'm often thinking of these very kind of beige, creamy, sort of off-white, yellow colors that I often see in doctor's offices. That are kind of muted and subtle. Of course, no color is neutral. With this piece I just did at Museo Tamayo I was thinking a little bit less about gyms and locker rooms, though I do think the color still reminds me a lot of medical spaces. It's very similar to the color of scrubs worn in the United States hospital system. These bluish greens, I find I have this kind of love-hate relationship with them. I love the color, but then I start to become sort of nauseated by it. It's this very weird feeling. That may translate to some people or may not. It's interesting to me to think how those different color palettes are having a different psychological affect on different people.

FG: Are you always making your work relating to a site-specific context?

MM: No, not always, but I tend to work better when thinking about the spatial intricacies of a particular space. Tactile Formation (image at the top of this interview), a piece I created for Socrates Sculpture Park, was very specific to its location outdoors in a public park, next to the water, with a view of the city across the water. Seats were designed for viewers to look up at the sky and the performance even involved placing sunglasses on the participants. However, a piece I made on a similar scale, Damp Gestures, is an enclosed room that is heated and humidified. I installed this piece in two very different spaces and while I had to adapt the structure slightly in the second space, it was largely able to create the same experience.

For my freestanding sculptures, it helps me to think about exhibiting them in a particular space, even if ultimately they are exhibited somewhere else. The architecture of a specific site, how people move through the space and how they may approach the sculpture helps me generate and flesh out ideas. Sometimes when I don’t have a space in mind, I think about a sculpture in relationship to other sculptures that form an installation or space together. Eventually the other sculptures may not exist or they may not be exhibited together, but the act of creating this site in my mind inspired the idea.

"My process is rooted in the body and psychology and usually begins by thinking about specific body positions or how one person's body is spatially oriented towards another."

FG: What sparks your process?

MM: My process is rooted in the body and psychology and usually begins by thinking about specific body positions or how one person's body is spatially oriented towards another. I think about my body interacting with a space in a certain way and how that will be perceived by or relate to the other people in the space. Other times I may be thinking about how a part of the sculpture will block the view of part of the body and how that impacts the social dynamics within the space.

I find that I also need to be hands on—I need to be moving. If I'm feeling creatively stuck or need to develop momentum in my process, sometimes I just have to get on the floor and move. This may involve me on my floor positioning myself in a way I imagine the performers doing and trying to feel what type of eye contact and tension I can create between two performers or viewer and performer.

FG: Do you have a physical side to your practice where you're essentially doing yoga stretches? Is there an experimental mat area?

MM: I definitely like open floor space and I usually have a yoga mat around. But I also like a space that I can readjust, so I don't have a permanent floor area. Usually at some point I am on the floor and moving and thinking about the work or I've taken some videos of myself that are quite humorous where I'm like propping my leg up on certain cardboard boxes to try to see a specific position. It does become very physical for me in that way.

Francesca Gavin

Francesca Gavin is a curator and writer based in London. She is the author of six books including Watch This Space, 100 New Artists, and Hell Bound: New Gothic Art. Gavin is the art editor of Twin, editor-at-large at Kaleidoscope, and a contributing editor at Art Papers, Semaine, and good trouble. She was the co-curator of the Historical Exhibition of Manifesta 11 and curated exhibitions internationally including at the Palais de Tokyo and Site Sheffield, among others. Gavin has a monthly radio show on NTS, Rough Version, focusing on the relationship between art and music where guests have included Adam Pendleton, Aria Dean, and Oscar Murillo, among others.