Artist in conversation: Danielle Gadus
“ I try to focus less on the ‘art world’ and more on what is inspiring, engaging and interesting to me right NOW.”
Meditative in nature, I see my work as the residue of process. A process of connecting within, tapping into flow and exploring the duality of intentional action/letting go. My process begins with an impulse. I approach my practice with no expectations, inviting entropic phenomena to help shape or alter material. I often rely on impulses of nature or changes in the direct environment to impact form. An element of chaos arises in these moments of spontaneity, and a process of allowing the unknown to unfold uninterrupted occurs.
I explore the subtle qualities of experience. Experiences such as texture, sense of time, perception of light or response to movement. Utilising both organic and industrial mark-making tools allows me to work with the nature of the material and test the extent of my own intervention, exploring a flow of control, engagement, and letting go.
I'm fascinated by spaces and how they directly inform our experience. Utilising varied techniques of structuring composition to include spatial surroundings, I explore how one's attention and energetic focus can move into different realms and alternative perspectives.
What initially inspired you to become an artist, and how did you develop your unique style?
I feel like it was a natural impulse to begin creating. I think most people are artistically inclined. I had a professor in college talk about the responsibility to answer the “creative calling.” That really reframed how I approached making things and how I shaped my lifestyle. I’ve developed my style by ‘zooming in’ and focussing on specific sensations. A reductive colour palate has allowed me to explore the dynamic properties of dual, mono color or high-contrast scenes, for example. Through the process of making, I’ve been able to continually shed strategies that don’t serve the overall practice and fine-tune/refine ones that do. I’ve also drawn aesthetic inspiration deeply from artists who came before me. Such as those involved with Zero NY, fluxus, light and space, or more ephemeral performance artists. I’m also heavily inspired by phenomena I experience in nature or within community, which has also impacted the style in which I create.
In terms of subject matter, what themes or motifs do you frequently explore in your work, and what draws you to these topics?
For me, at the end of the day, it’s really all just about felt presence. Whatever strikes one's connection within themselves or with others. By reducing the amount of visual noise, I hope people are more sensitive to their own feelings. Focussing on subtle qualities of the experience hopefully also heightens this awareness. I feel as though there’s a huge wave of dissociation from the body of a culture full of people who look at a screen all day. When you’re alone on your phone, it’s easy to sink into the illusion that you are isolated or accept increasingly divisive ideologies. By coming into presence, I hope to promote the calming of the nervous system leading to peace and connectedness.
Can you discuss a specific piece or project that challenged you as an artist, and how you overcome those challenges?
Recently, I was invited to set up an installation at an event in Arizona. With limited time to set up, limited access to the space prior, and the natural obstacles of travel, I really had to come up with ingredients for a finished piece and trust that it would come together. Sharing the non-traditional gallery space meant being adaptable and flexible. As someone who has created a creative ethos around having ‘no plan,’ my thought process was challenged as I was forced to navigate expectations of directors and curators. It also seemed like an impossible mission to walk into the space, and craft something together in such a short amount of time. Creating the ‘ingredients’ in advance and having a few flavours to choose from satisfied this need to be prepared, but also allowed me to remain authentic to my process of engaging with play in the unknown. Ultimately, the installation looked nothing like I expected it to, but I really enjoyed the journey to get there.
How do you stay connected with other artists and keep up with new developments and trends in the art world?
At this point, living in New York City, I feel as though it's easy to get swept up in thinking about art and analysing the trends here vs. other major metropolitan hubs. I make a concerted effort to ignore this and foster organic connections. I find that the more I practice authenticity within myself and my work, truer and deeper relationships form with ease. In terms of connecting with artists, I really aim to have a sense of openness within my friendships and who I surround myself with. I try to focus less on the ‘art world’ and more on what is inspiring, engaging and interesting to me right NOW. Otherwise, the research or relationship feels like a forced act. I prefer to connect with people who are amplifying a genuine vibe. With that being said, if there is a creator whose work I admire, friends recommendation I trust or just something I have an inkling may be cool—I try to show up and support openings, shows, events, happenings, etc. It’s really important for me to balance solo introspection with being out in the world, surrounded by people in real life. So as much as I’ll gain a sense of the current culture when I’m online, I aim to keep my eyes open when I’m walking down the street to get a sense of where the currents are flowing.
How do you incorporate feedback from critics and audiences into your artistic practice, and how do you balance this feedback with your own artistic intuition?
I love criticism. I’d like to see more of it within art. I think there’s so many ‘yes men’ floating around these days. To me, criticism is just a way to open up a portal into a new perspective; connecting dots that haven’t been drawn before; assessing where the work sits in relation to the world in time and space. It’s crucial for me to remain open minded to this, but preserve a sacred space of free play while creating. It’s easy to be paralysed out of fear of making the wrong decision. By having this incubated space to play with new ideas, materials, etc, I’m able to prioritise my intuition and further clarify my voice/vision. I also always try to gain a deeper understanding of the individual sharing the feedback and the preferences and biases they may have. It’s creation and awareness first, criticism and analysis second - always.
How do you stay motivated and inspired despite any setbacks or creative blocks you may encounter?
Really just trusting that it’s a ride in the long-term. I may feel down or off course now, but I know the rollercoaster will pick back up again eventually. Recently, during times that I have felt unmotivated or uninspired, I’ve tried to sit with the feelings (whereas in the past I’d tried to immediately ‘fix the problem’ and get back into the creative groove). Usually there’s something coming up that I have to learn, something I may be avoiding, or sometimes it’s just my mind’s way of letting me know I need to rest. Practicing a sense of grace with these feelings and allowing them to be there has been helpful. But, if I’m in a deep rut - I call on friends or move my body. Being with others, laughing and sharing insights are one of the best ways for me to reengage. Something as simple as dancing or going on a walk can help me shift gears as well.
How do you manage to balance stillness and chaos in your work to create such energy-filled pieces?
I don’t know if there really is ever true balance! I feel like the tension of stillness and chaos in my work is a natural reflection of how I encounter the world. The stillness allows for the chaos; the chaos allows for the stillness. Two sides of the same coin in constant motion.
How does Zen tradition influence your creative process?
Freedom. Mindfulness. Play. Acceptance. ‘As it is.’ Engaging with the sublime. Allowing. Allowing for nature. Emphasising a state of flow. Prioritising intuition. Highlighting the essence. Generally in my process, I will engage with an entropic quality that I have little control over. Setting up loose conditions shaped by intentional motions and completely allowing the outcome to unfold. For instance, in shibori-stitch resist, I stitch a pattern into fabric. With each puncture, I intentionally set an area that will remain untreated with dye. Ultimately, I don’t know how the material will respond as the outcome is varied every time. Or maybe I’m collaborating with an unpredictable material such as sunlight or wind. Zen influences my process in an innumerable amount of ways, in addition to a vast array of spiritual and scientific practices and processes. When I’m in the zone of creation, most of these influences are subconscious and I’m fully in motion.
How do you feel about exhibiting your artworks with The Holy Art Gallery?
It was really exciting to have the opportunity to show my works internationally in London, Paris, Milan and Brussels. It was also my first time sharing digital work. As I predominantly create site specific/temporal installations, sharing the work in video format allowed me to think deeper about how the work can exist through time and within various spaces.
Looking ahead, what are your long-term goals and aspirations as an artist, and how do you plan to achieve them?
I’m in the middle of pursuing a MFA here in Brooklyn. This process has nudged me into a state of constant questioning, aligning and realigning. As of now, I’m really enjoying the experience of studying and continuing to lift the veil on the institution of both the art market and art school. Long term, it’s important for me to create an open space for people to gather that’s committed to fostering an interdisciplinary set of practices and supporting work that has little commercial viability. Whether this space exists within its own building, as an installation within a gallery, or both, is yet to be determined. Before I even realised that you could make a career out of being an artist, as a kid I realised the power that art has to communicate (whether through cuisine, sound, mark-making, etc). I also had the experience of discomfort within many traditional museum and gallery settings and knew there had to be alternative ways to get the messages across.