Cabin life is something not necessarily associated with living in New York, and yet artist Paul Jacobsen has found a way to bring the two together. Mia Kim of Wilder Quarterly interviewed Jacobsen last week.
In the backyard of a Red Hook brownstone is the single room abode of artist Paul Jacobsen. The outdoor space is abundant with trees that seem to reach the sky and bruised peaches, shed from the tree next door, dot the ground. The sound of water running through a fountain serves as the perfect complement to this verdant sight. Inside Jacobsen’s dimly lit home, which he refers to as “The Back Shack,” a similar feeling of otherworldly tranquility exists. Also apparent is the lack of modern technology—there is no television or computer in sight and a trio of axes rest against the wood-burning stove. He revels in the natural surroundings and follows a slowed beat to paint landscapes, paste together collages, and dream up his next cabin construction. Over a glass of sweet iced tea, I spoke with Jacobsen about his work, the necessity of the natural world, and how they both help to maintain his sanity.
Mia Kim: You grew up in both Colorado and New York. How have the two landscapes influenced you and your work?
Paul Jacobsen: The mountains and forests of Colorado have often been the subject of my work, and seeing their beauty has consistently recharged and uplifted my spirit. As for the city landscape, I do my best to ignore it.
MK: How did your time assisting Rudolf Stingel in Italy affect your decision to create art with man's relationship to nature as a theme?
PJ: This was when I fell in love with painting and came to believe that it could convey spiritual ideas. Also, Italian cities are ones that I did not want to ignore. The handmade palazzos and churches awoke in me an understanding of what John Ruskin said of the Gothic—that it is the expression of man's pleasure in labor and the physical world.
MK: Why do you choose to depict the natural world through paintings?
PJ: At an early age, I found I was skilled at drawing and painting and enjoyed doing both very much. But at some point, as an artist, you stop producing and have to make political and social decisions before continuing. As human beings we must gather food and build shelter and this inevitably alters and leads to the destruction of the natural environment. But through creative work some beauty can be restored and even enhance the human experience.
MK: I spotted a typewriter, record player, lots of books, and firewood in your house. How does living a low-tech life relate to the concept of your work?
PJ: Marshall McLuhan says that primitive man has no unconscious mind and that schizophrenia is a necessary consequence of literacy. I keep my place a low-tech zone to escape the anxiety and distractions induced by technology. My work has dealt with themes of returning to a time before all forms of technology: a post-collapse, Pre-Raphaelite, hunter-gatherer world.
MK: Can you tell me about the collages you’ve recently been working on?
PJ: The collages have been a way for me to free my conceptual constraints and let randomness and fun enter into the process. Some of these collages contain over 300 densely arranged images, which I have been collecting from outdated books.
MK: Is there anything else you'd like to pursue in addition to painting, cabin-building, and collage?
PJ: I've been considering a project that involves learning as many different crafts a