#PASSION: “BUT SUBMISSION IS THE SISTER OF DOMINANCE. THEY DON´T EXIST WITHOUT EACH OTHER.” – IN CONVERSATION WITH ISABELLE ALBUQUERQUE

#PASSION: “BUT SUBMISSION IS THE SISTER OF DOMINANCE. THEY DON´T EXIST WITHOUT EACH OTHER.” – IN CONVERSATION WITH ISABELLE ALBUQUERQUE

Interview Antonia Schmidt

All images courtesy of the artist

Isabelle Albuquerque is a multidisciplinary artist known for her diverse work spanning sculpture, performance and music. Her art often delves into themes of identity, the body, sexuality, and the human relationship with technology and the natural world. Albuquerque is celebrated for her ability to transform personal and collective experiences into compelling visual narratives that engage and provoke thought in the viewer. A central element of her work is the exploration of the human body as a site of power, vulnerability, and transformation. Albuquerque uses the body not just as a subject, but also as a medium to probe questions of autonomy, boundaries, and the entanglement of humans and desires. Albuquerque’s approach to art is deeply interdisciplinary, drawing on art history, mythology, religion, and speculative fiction. With Numéro Berlin, she speaks about her relationship to sculptures, fears, and the meaning of ritual.

Antonia Schmidt: Your mother and grandmother are both artists. Is that how your relationship with art began?

Isabelle Albuquerque: My great grandmother and sister are also artists, so yes, art has always been entwined with my deepest relationships and how I relate to the people I love.

How has it developed since?

There is this quote from master Hokusai: “Until the age of 70, nothing I drew was worthy of notice. At 73 years, I was somewhat able to fathom the growth of plants and trees, and the structure of birds, animals, insects and fish. Thus, when I reach 80 years, I hope to have made increasing progress, and at 90 to see further into the underlying principles of things, so that at 100 years, I will have achieved a divine state in my art, and at 110, every dot and every stroke will be as though alive.” That, I think, perfectly describes it. You’re always trying to make something alive, but you may not be alive long enough to get there. Ha

You started out as a performer and musician and only later started making sculptures. Can you tell me more about your early beginnings?

Yes. When I was younger, most of my work came through my mouth and song. I did music and performance with my partner, and it was a kind of expression of our love through the body. I think of my sculpture as an extension of my music. I often see the material I work with like musical notes or tones. For example, I experience walnut and most hardwoods as deep bass notes, whereas when I work with something like brass, it feels more like a high note. And I’m always trying to create a kind of harmony between the different materials/notes.

Why did you choose the medium of sculpture back then?

When I started making sculpture, I had a company and was working in an office in a strip mall and sculpture came over me – or maybe through me – almost violently. I started getting to the office at 4 am and mixing plaster in the public bathroom. The office was full of computers and I was making all of these phalluses and breasts and then smashing them with a hammer. The dust was getting into all the computer hardware! I did this kind of making and destroying for a few years. I felt more like sculpture was using me as a medium then I was using it as a medium. But the power in our relationship is more balanced now. And I don’t destroy my sculptures any more. I love them.

What is it you want to represent, in your own words?

Often, I am trying to find a form that can hold some of the ecstasy and some of the loss and some of the love and some of the tears and some of the terror that are part of living on this planet.

Your works play with the female body and seem to give it empowerment and self-determination. Does this stem from the denial of female agency in art history?

I think of my work as existing on a kind of feral timeline and I often dip in and out of art history, retelling our most influential narratives and myths from the perspective of the woman or with the woman in the perspective of power. It’s a small shift, but it changes everything.

The bodies in your sculptures often assume submissive positions. Are you afraid that they will be perceived as passive beings?

The bodies are my body. And, of course, I am always afraid. Afraid of everything. But submission is the sister of dominance. They don’t exist without each other.

The series “Orgy For Ten People in One Body” is based on your own body. I wonder what the difference is between working with your own body and with models?

I don’t know as I’ve never worked with models. I can’t imagine asking someone else to take the risk that is required for these works. It’s important to me that I’m the one carrying that.

What is your definition of desire?

The part beyond language and what you have been taught. A kind of gnostic knowledge.

And of passion?

Fire. Blood. Cum. Dirt. The energy in your body at the core. Like the lava in a volcano.

What role do these two play in your creative process?

A central part.

You work with different materials for your sculptures. How do you choose the material you use?

I like materials that beg you to touch them. I am drawn to materials that are alive. Hair – full of DNA. Wood – with the story of its life drawn across its surface in its rings. Bronze – and the way it rings when it is hollow and hit with a mallet.

Your sculptures refer both to myths and to art history. What role does artistic research play in your work?

Research is a big part of my process. When I first started sculpting and was working at my company, my main role was as an image researcher for a young artificial intelligence that was learning how to paint the human form. Part of my job was gathering thousands of images of nudes from throughout time for the AI to learn from. Often, when I start a sculpture, I gather thousands of images for me to learn from and still sometimes look at them through a non-human lens.

Do you have a favorite episode in art history?

Right now, I am especially focused on The Fall of Man.

The press release for your solo exhibition “Sextet” at the Nicodim Gallery begins with a quote from David Wojnarowicz. I was wondering how his work has influenced you?

I’ve been reading David’s writings since I was a teenager and often feel his spirit close to me in the studio. In the quote he is referring to, he is talking about a desire to have multiple bodies so that he can more fully experience his brief time on earth, and I relate to that.

Do you have a ritual? What does a day in your studio look like? How do you work?

Rituals change depending on what sculpture I am working on, as I often take a kind of method approach to the characters and beings in my work. This week has begun with a long drive along the Pacific ocean to a foundry where I work outside of town, then drinking coffee and pouring metal.

What is it that no one talks about in an artist’s life?

How thin the veil can get.

A few years ago, you and your partner founded a design and production studio, OSK. How did this idea come about?

We started Osk over a decade ago. We first conceived the business as a way to support our performance practice, but it soon became its own entity and we ended up building an AI who was our main collaborator.

How do you manage to combine your private and business lives?

I stopped working at the business a few years ago. I wasn’t able to combine them

What are you currently working on? Are there any projects or exhibitions that we should be aware of?

Right now, I am preparing for a two-person booth with Celeste Dupuy-Spencer for Frieze Los Angeles, where I will be showing a new series of reliquaries. Later this year, I will be presenting a new large scale sculptural installation as part of the Getty’s Pacific Standard Time. And there will be a few books and events throughout the year for my new book, Orgy for Ten People in One Body.