Beyond The Crane sat down for a one-to-one interview with local artist Niki Cervin. From early inspiration from Cy Twombly and graffiti to solving and understanding specific challenges in her process and facilitating that intimate relationship between the viewer and the painting.
Photos: Niki Cervin, Youngjae Lih
BTC: Beyond The Crane NC: Niki Cervin
BTC: Tell me: What is it that you do?
NC: I work as an artist, more specifically with painting.
BTC: How did it start? (e.g., an event, person, or something else)
NC: My interest in painting emerged in 8th grade. I was heavily inspired by artists such as Robert Rauschenberg and Cy Twombly, as well as graffiti. Back then, I was fascinated by painting as a trace of a physical act and was particularly drawn to lines. Area 08 from 2000 was the first graffiti film I saw, and I remember being as intrigued by the painters’ movements as by the piece itself. How they used their whole bodies, stretching their movements to reach the top of the train, then crouching to paint the lower part—their motions were focused and deliberate, like an improvised choreography. In 2001, Pike and Nug made the film So Fresh I Can’t Take It. It was the best thing had ever seen.
BTC: Why do you do what you do? (Your driving forces?)
NC: Because it’s incredibly exciting to dive into something unknown and try to understand it without any set frameworks or rules.
BTC: What does your process typically look like? (Projects/planning/collaboration/etc.)
NC: I usually lock myself in the studio for about a year, obsessing over something I’m trying to understand. In recent years, for example, I’ve worked with broad brushes, ranging from 20 cm to 150 cm, which I’ve constructed myself. The wide brushstrokes fascinated me because they created uncertainty for the viewer about who or “what” had made the work. The perception of a human hand seemed to diminish as the width of the strokes increased. For me, the works thus became more autonomous, appearing more like independent entities rather than indexical signs of me as person.
To reinforce this “discovery,” I exhibited the works in dialogue with the See Through series, which was created using more traditional brush sizes. The exhibition was titled In Relation and was later shown at Sulfur’s studio collective, at Konstnärscentrum Väst in Gothenburg, and at Galleri Pom in Mariefred.
BTC: How do you know when a work/project is finished? (On being done, being satisfied.)
NC: A series is finished when I personally feel that I’ve solved or understood the specific challenge I faced when the series was first conceived. For me, it doesn’t make sense to continue when I no longer feel that I’m learning anything. Then I move on to something new.
Is it important to you that the viewer knows about/understand the process/challenge behind a series of paintings?
That’s an interesting question. I believe a piece of art should be able to stand on its own, and not be dependent on, for example, an exhibition text. However, one might want to offer the viewer contextual information that can broaden the framework of the work or exhibition.
I like the idea of facilitating an intimate relationship between the viewer and the painting. Unlike video, performance, sound, or text — which all have an aspect of time that painting lacks—you don’t move with the work; rather, the work moves with you, at your own pace.
To answer your question :), I don’t find it important that the viewer understands the process behind the series. Sometimes I like to include a text just to emphasize something—though I probably shouldn’t, now when I think about it. The painting itself should be enough.
BTC: How do you put yourself into what you do? (Is it important? Should people immediately recognize your work as yours?)
NC: I want people to experience my painting as something separate from me personally, as a self-standing entity. Since I work with different series, the aesthetic expression can vary, and I don’t have a consistent style. It’s not important to me that anyone recognizes it as my work.
BTC: Will it always be painting as your (visual) expression NC: I hope not, it would be interesting if the practice organically developed beyond painting. Time will tell.
BTC: What inspires you? (Anything and everything that inspires.)
NC: It can truly be anything: an article, a particular artist, being outside watching animals, compositions in a park, a song, a flower, a storm, a film, a theory, others’ thoughts and experiences, etc.
BTC: What is it like being a creator in Malmö?
NC: At the moment, it’s a bit shaky with the Sorgenfri area undergoing changes. The studio collective Sulfur, where I have my studio, is located in the affected area, along with other studio collectives like Bunkern, XX. We still don’t know what will happen with the buildings where we work. In total, it affects about seventy artists. A working group has been formed with members from all the collectives, and there is good communication with the municipality. Of course, we hope that our building (the old Addo factory), which has been a workspace for artists for the past thirty years, will continue to serve as a studio collective for a long time. It would be valuable for Malmö’s cultural life and the city of Malmö.
BTC: What is your favorite place in Malmö and why?
NC: Right now, I’m pretty tired of asphalt and traffic noise, so I prefer to hang out in areas with animals, streams, fields, gravel roads, and trees.
BTC: Looking ahead: Where are you heading?
NC: Since this spring, I’ve been working on a new series and hope to finish it in about a year. hardly know what it’s about at the moment but am being guided by faint tactile and visual visions.
BTC: Why do you still do what you do?
NC: I have to give the same answer as to the question about driving forces.
LEARN MORE
You can follow David’s latest work on Instagram at @nikicervin
Beyond The Crane sat down for a one-to-one interview with local artist Niki Cervin. From early inspiration from Cy Twombly and graffiti to solving and understanding specific challenges in her process and facilitating that intimate relationship between the viewer and the painting.
Photos: Niki Cervin, Youngjae Lih
BTC: Beyond The Crane NC: Niki Cervin
BTC: Tell me: What is it that you do?
NC: I work as an artist, more specifically with painting.
BTC: How did it start? (e.g., an event, person, or something else)
NC: My interest in painting emerged in 8th grade. I was heavily inspired by artists such as Robert Rauschenberg and Cy Twombly, as well as graffiti. Back then, I was fascinated by painting as a trace of a physical act and was particularly drawn to lines. Area 08 from 2000 was the first graffiti film I saw, and I remember being as intrigued by the painters’ movements as by the piece itself. How they used their whole bodies, stretching their movements to reach the top of the train, then crouching to paint the lower part—their motions were focused and deliberate, like an improvised choreography. In 2001, Pike and Nug made the film So Fresh I Can’t Take It. It was the best thing had ever seen.
BTC: Why do you do what you do? (Your driving forces?)
NC: Because it’s incredibly exciting to dive into something unknown and try to understand it without any set frameworks or rules.
BTC: What does your process typically look like? (Projects/planning/collaboration/etc.)
NC: I usually lock myself in the studio for about a year, obsessing over something I’m trying to understand. In recent years, for example, I’ve worked with broad brushes, ranging from 20 cm to 150 cm, which I’ve constructed myself. The wide brushstrokes fascinated me because they created uncertainty for the viewer about who or “what” had made the work. The perception of a human hand seemed to diminish as the width of the strokes increased. For me, the works thus became more autonomous, appearing more like independent entities rather than indexical signs of me as person.
To reinforce this “discovery,” I exhibited the works in dialogue with the See Through series, which was created using more traditional brush sizes. The exhibition was titled In Relation and was later shown at Sulfur’s studio collective, at Konstnärscentrum Väst in Gothenburg, and at Galleri Pom in Mariefred.
BTC: How do you know when a work/project is finished? (On being done, being satisfied.)
NC: A series is finished when I personally feel that I’ve solved or understood the specific challenge I faced when the series was first conceived. For me, it doesn’t make sense to continue when I no longer feel that I’m learning anything. Then I move on to something new.
Is it important to you that the viewer knows about/understand the process/challenge behind a series of paintings?
That’s an interesting question. I believe a piece of art should be able to stand on its own, and not be dependent on, for example, an exhibition text. However, one might want to offer the viewer contextual information that can broaden the framework of the work or exhibition.
I like the idea of facilitating an intimate relationship between the viewer and the painting. Unlike video, performance, sound, or text — which all have an aspect of time that painting lacks—you don’t move with the work; rather, the work moves with you, at your own pace.
To answer your question :), I don’t find it important that the viewer understands the process behind the series. Sometimes I like to include a text just to emphasize something—though I probably shouldn’t, now when I think about it. The painting itself should be enough.
BTC: How do you put yourself into what you do? (Is it important? Should people immediately recognize your work as yours?)
NC: I want people to experience my painting as something separate from me personally, as a self-standing entity. Since I work with different series, the aesthetic expression can vary, and I don’t have a consistent style. It’s not important to me that anyone recognizes it as my work.
BTC: Will it always be painting as your (visual) expression
NC: I hope not, it would be interesting if the practice organically developed beyond painting. Time will tell.
BTC: What inspires you? (Anything and everything that inspires.)
NC: It can truly be anything: an article, a particular artist, being outside watching animals, compositions in a park, a song, a flower, a storm, a film, a theory, others’ thoughts and experiences, etc.
BTC: What is it like being a creator in Malmö?
NC: At the moment, it’s a bit shaky with the Sorgenfri area undergoing changes. The studio collective Sulfur, where I have my studio, is located in the affected area, along with other studio collectives like Bunkern, XX. We still don’t know what will happen with the buildings where we work. In total, it affects about seventy artists. A working group has been formed with members from all the collectives, and there is good communication with the municipality. Of course, we hope that our building (the old Addo factory), which has been a workspace for artists for the past thirty years, will continue to serve as a studio collective for a long time. It would be valuable for Malmö’s cultural life and the city of Malmö.
BTC: What is your favorite place in Malmö and why?
NC: Right now, I’m pretty tired of asphalt and traffic noise, so I prefer to hang out in areas with animals, streams, fields, gravel roads, and trees.
BTC: Looking ahead: Where are you heading?
NC: Since this spring, I’ve been working on a new series and hope to finish it in about a year. hardly know what it’s about at the moment but am being guided by faint tactile and visual visions.
BTC: Why do you still do what you do?
NC: I have to give the same answer as to the question about driving forces.
LEARN MORE
You can follow David’s latest work on Instagram at @nikicervin
Niki’s Website