Q:             Hi Alison, thanks so much for showing us your work.  I just wanted to warm up by saying I found myself staring at your images, thinking, smiling and shaking my head because you deliberately call out the irony within our education system and beyond yet in very few words. 

A few pieces that make I found thrilling are Everything Must Go – Always and Forever installation. The way you showcase vague business lingo in Temple’s art school is blind truth regarding the institution’s drive towards providing students with the new building, despite what is preached.

Your ability to see everyday things for what they truly are with your own two eyes is art in itself. Can you tell us why you prefer simple messages with deep meaning rather than outwardly convoluted pieces? What are your intentions for the viewer?

A:              Ah, Gian, thank you very much, you're giving me way too much credit, but I definitely appreciate the encouragement during this hellish time known as midterms.

I think a lot of my work is very minimal or simplified in form because I want to give people a chance to bring their own opinions and questions.  I also just find a natural ease in working simply because I’m afraid of being too heavy-handed or beating people over the head.

I often [approach] something with my own questions of frustration which is where I think my relation to the viewer ties in.  I had someone once describe my existence as a question mark directed at the world and so the things I make and put out into space are never punctuated with a period.

Ultimately, I think my sole intent as a maker is to [spark] some sort of conversation. I hope that people reconsider what they think the work addresses and maybe ask it a question back.

Q:             Let’s spearhead The Potential for Rationality. First off, have you ever read any of those books? Second, what made you choose those books in particular? You’ve got a pretty eclectic spread of nothing in that stack. Do you think that it’s weird how we’re being taught the contents of The Potential for Reality when each subject is more of a life lesson rather than a timed exam?

A:  I have never read any of those texts with the exception of the Habermas book. He has a very important influence on me.  His view on rationality through conversation is where I drew the title of the piece.  But as far as the others, for me it had less to do with the content of them and more to do with the actual titles put together as a narrative. “The Potential for Rationality” helped me address many issues I have with institutions.  Especially in regards to how we all come together as a community in the face of the "reality in economics” and other such matters.  But also, just how inaccessible or unrealistic it might be to get answers from a book, something that I myself struggle with constantly. 

I think I'm in love with this piece because of how many open-ended questions came about for me.  Actually, no, I hate it because of that. 

Q:             The blankness of This Existence is Material gets to me. It makes me think of how empty people become when surrounded by false images, and how we neglect to recognize reality. The Free Library cart wouldn’t have that sexy reflection if someone didn’t gloss the floors. I think the greatest part of this piece is it reminds me of learning the “banking” concept in a business ethics class. 

What are your overall messages in The Existence is Material? What do you like about using negative space to help magnify your messages?

A:             This one isn't supposed to be a metaphor for emptiness! Haha, I'm joking, obviously after stressing the importance of the viewer's perspective for eighteen paragraphs above, you can totally [interpret] it any way you’d like.  Personally, what I was intending for this piece was for it to be a positive contribution and was hoping the empty cart would inspire a reaction to add or engage with the work.  But really, I actually didn't give enough and simplified it way too much that the lack of direction was its detriment, and this is why I find the piece to be unsuccessful.

Q:             Also displayed is your poem entitled I Think Starbucks Might Be Hiring.  Your words are vivid and depressingly accurate.  Do you think it’s odd how many of the individuals guiding us have little to no experience in what they’re talking about? Or how easily it is for students to forget the pure priorities of life, like having to remember to e-mail our mothers rather than having it be an initial thought and at least a phone call?

A:              I wrote that list poem at a really low point recently when I was struggling with the why’s in life and I think I was trying to drive at how human we all are and how difficult that is to handle sometimes.

Maybe not, did that make me really sound like an artist?  Like, I'm wearing all black, with a beret and I [just] reached for the sky and pulled my fist down?

I actually think that poem is really sadly hilarious when I read it again, which is probably an accurate description of how I view the world.  I mean, just how absurd it is that I make [art] about communication and I am one of the most difficult people to communicate with?

But, no, I'm reconsidering that humanity statement and even if it sounded trite, I honestly meant it.  I place so much importance on pedagogy; I have almost all of my professors' cell phone numbers on speed dial, as well as doctors and my mother, but no one has answers. We're all really scared and struggling and we just need to communicate with each other or we're never going to get through, even if communicating is fucking scary.  Again, we're back at questions. There are always questions, Gian, always and forever.

I feel like I'm not actually addressing anything you're asking.  Do you want me to start over?

Q:            Alison, you’re definitely the first Pudding artist to rely on words and their geographic placement to display a message. What draws you to the art of words? If there was one place in the world to display your words in any magnitude, where would that place be?

A:             I've kind of had this obsession with hanging a banner from the Comcast Center.

Words are fucking difficult.  But I love them.  I'm interested in words as symbols, as a form of language, but I'm also drawn to text solely as material.

The thing about working with text that makes it so alluring and yet still outrageously terrifying is that it has this way of walking a fine line between being the exact function of the exact message you are trying to convey, and also being an obvious, miserable failure. In the end, the artist has this awful dilemma on her hands. Do I use simple language to create accessibility or do I trust that someone needn't be beaten over the head?

Q:             Everything Must Go seems to touch on Christo & Jean-Claude’s work. Did the team have any inspiration in your thought process in creating your Everything Must Go series? Did you get in trouble for polluting?

A:  I know nothing about Christo & Jean-Claude except, ya know, that they wrap things.  We had to watch a documentary on them in high school art class and they both seemed like real assholes.

In any case, Everything Must Go was really important to me in I was coming into art as a photographer and attempting to bridge the gap to sculpture.  I knew that I wanted to set up scenes or stages that I could make things on, but also so that the final work would function as an image. The series of photographs was just that, and those items were placed in front of the camera and then removed afterwards.

I would like to work more like this in the future, but I am someone that takes an enormous amount of energy and thought and time to make even the smallest anything. [Therefore] carting things out into the world, setting up a scene, and then photographing it is an endeavor that is capable of making me spontaneously combust.

Q:             In your digital video I Don’t Know What’s Going on, but Everything is Going to Be Okay, you use young children to show how relevant the economy is to the pure mind. Do you think this is a positive or negative for our youth? Did you move the table knowing the outcome?

A:             That video is really important to me just because it's the only thing I've ever made that's gone completely awry, I mean honestly, that project was a total nightmare, but it ended up being something really insightful.  I can’t give myself any of the credit because it couldn't have been planned.  But I mean, every time I show it and Lewis hits his face, at least one person in the room cries.

Everything Must Go Once More out in Elkins Park seemed to address Tyler School of Art shutting down and relocating but also Bear Stearns had recently collapsed and it felt like everything was shutting down.  But that installation didn't feel like enough, and so I went into the video project way over my head, wanting to make something about the economy, yet having very little knowledge of the intricacies of how an economy actually works.  So it felt like using children was perfect, you know?  Like both Lydia and Lewis being completely incapable of even pronouncing the word "economy” for example. Our society at that time was crumbling down around us and no one outside of Wall Street brokers and economists could actually explain what was going on.

But I had no idea what I wanted them to say. I just wanted them to make sense out of it, by using the symbol of kids being innocence and pure.  And so, obviously, it just kind of ended up not working at all and collapsing into hysteria.  On top of that, Lewis ended up genuinely hurting himself and so the entire project had to be abandoned.

But I went through the footage later, and lo and behold, here comes the purity of the child soul, I start hearing these metaphors about big fish eating little fish and things crashing down. 

Q:             Thanks again for taking the time, Alison, your words and work are much appreciated. In closing, what can we expect in the future and are there any other outlets where we can keep up with your progress?

A:             Thanks for asking me questions Gian - I'm sorry I always use the phrase "I think," and swear way too much, and that I'm also just insane.

Right now I'm building an art gallery on wheels, conducting interviews about art, attempting to institute my own school-wide mandatory reading list, and navigating a quarter-life crisis.  This keeps me busy.  But I have hopes next semester of actually just creating my own institution and methods of circulating information and so I guess we'll see where that goes.

You can visually follow my exploits here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/alialioxenfree.