Have you ever looked through old vacation photos and instantly recalled the feeling of sand underneath your toes? Well, imagine being able to exponentially trigger that feeling through a large-scale installation. That’s basically what artist Letha Wilson aims to achieve through her weighty, majestic sculptures.
Seeking to make her photographs less precious, she subjects them to a series of controlled processes. Photographic paper is held down with rocks in the darkroom, C-prints are scored and pleated to create fan-like shapes, concrete is poured below and on top of the images, in rectangular molds—the list goes on. With a process as extensive as Letha’s, she has to be meticulous, and her attention to detail is astounding, even down to the color of her nails matching her latest works. Yet even with minimal variables, happy, visually striking accidents can occur.
We managed to catch her at a particularly industrious time in her new studio in Dumbo, with her second solo show now up at Higher Pictures, and upcoming shows at both Jack Hanley Gallery in New York and Brand New Gallery in Milan.
CECILIA SALAMA: What first made you realize that, as a medium, photography fails to encompass the image it is supposedly capturing?
LETHA WILSON: It was when I looked at these photographs from family hikes in Colorado—these beautiful vistas—and how ultimately the small, captured images where on one hand is an instant reminder and trigger, but on the other hand, fully unparalleled to the actual experience of being there.
Are you skeptical of all photography or just landscape photography?
In my case I’m specifically looking at landscape photography. And I think the skepticism is experienced in tandem with a kind of wonder. It’s a love/ hate relationship with these images of nature. I am drawn to them, adore them, they make me want to go there—but not being there brings a sense of disappointment. The physical part of the experience is missing. The other four senses are not usually considered in a photograph.
What makes you enjoy the physicality of installation and sculpture, and even analog photography, more than digital processes?
The foremost interest is what will the work be in real life and in person. As an art lover I’ve always been drawn to and inspired the most by sculptural work. I think it creates so many more questions than it solves, and there are so many possibilities for it. So can a photograph be brought into this realm? How? And why?
What is the weirdest experience that’s happened during one of your outdoor trips?
I was camping by myself in Kodachrome State Park, Utah, and I hiked this trail leading up the mountain as the sun was setting. I was taking all these photos at the top but when I turned around to go back, I couldn’t figure out how to get back down. I freaked out that I’d have to spend the night up there!
Who are your influences currently?
I’m always supported and also pushed by some great friends of mine who make art such as Kate Steciw, Amy Feldman, Ethan Greenbaum, Rico Gatson, Carolyn Salas, an
Seeking to make her photographs less precious, she subjects them to a series of controlled processes. Photographic paper is held down with rocks in the darkroom, C-prints are scored and pleated to create fan-like shapes, concrete is poured below and on top of the images, in rectangular molds—the list goes on. With a process as extensive as Letha’s, she has to be meticulous, and her attention to detail is astounding, even down to the color of her nails matching her latest works. Yet even with minimal variables, happy, visually striking accidents can occur.
We managed to catch her at a particularly industrious time in her new studio in Dumbo, with her second solo show now up at Higher Pictures, and upcoming shows at both Jack Hanley Gallery in New York and Brand New Gallery in Milan.
CECILIA SALAMA: What first made you realize that, as a medium, photography fails to encompass the image it is supposedly capturing?
LETHA WILSON: It was when I looked at these photographs from family hikes in Colorado—these beautiful vistas—and how ultimately the small, captured images where on one hand is an instant reminder and trigger, but on the other hand, fully unparalleled to the actual experience of being there.
Are you skeptical of all photography or just landscape photography?
In my case I’m specifically looking at landscape photography. And I think the skepticism is experienced in tandem with a kind of wonder. It’s a love/ hate relationship with these images of nature. I am drawn to them, adore them, they make me want to go there—but not being there brings a sense of disappointment. The physical part of the experience is missing. The other four senses are not usually considered in a photograph.
What makes you enjoy the physicality of installation and sculpture, and even analog photography, more than digital processes?
The foremost interest is what will the work be in real life and in person. As an art lover I’ve always been drawn to and inspired the most by sculptural work. I think it creates so many more questions than it solves, and there are so many possibilities for it. So can a photograph be brought into this realm? How? And why?
What is the weirdest experience that’s happened during one of your outdoor trips?
I was camping by myself in Kodachrome State Park, Utah, and I hiked this trail leading up the mountain as the sun was setting. I was taking all these photos at the top but when I turned around to go back, I couldn’t figure out how to get back down. I freaked out that I’d have to spend the night up there!
Who are your influences currently?
I’m always supported and also pushed by some great friends of mine who make art such as Kate Steciw, Amy Feldman, Ethan Greenbaum, Rico Gatson, Carolyn Salas, an