What’s my research process like? Usually, if it’s a project where there’s no preconceived theme, or the commissioning agency doesn’t have a set idea of what they want or what they want to express, and it’s truly a blank slate, then I’m pretty attentive to any kind of spark of anything.  It’s not necessarily that I go research history–well, I do, but I don’t have a set philosophy on that.

For instance, Pete, in Chattanooga–that’s a good example.  I had no idea; they had no idea.  Nobody had any idea what should go there.  So I went there and visited the site, met with community members. I was going down the traditional path of, well, let’s look into the history of the site and the neighborhood, and I was struck by a lot of things. And I learned, which is good–to understand the place.  But I try to remain open, and that’s when I heard the people who lived there talk about this itinerant peacock, and at first it was just fun, to watch them talk about and hear the stories of this peacock that showed up out of nowhere–nobody knew where he was from, where he was going, why he would appear. And that was what really got people interested.  And that got me thinking, I think because a peacock is a pretty strong form.  It’s got color and line and everything else, so it seemed as good of a reason as any to do a piece of art, no matter what happened to Pete.

So for me it’s important to just remain open and listening and not have too set of an idea.

The other problem is that it’s not just a concept.  You can come up with a concept in your mind that makes a lot of sense, but that’s not the art.  I try as I move forward to become more open to non conceptual thinking, or not thinking at all, in fact.  Thinking’s great, but it’s just a small part, I realize. And people are generally not comfortable with that.  They need a reason, they need an explanation, they need to say, oh, I see, yes, that makes sense, nice, great.  But there are some other levels beyond that, and that’s what I would really like to tap into.  I would really like to one day have a project where I really feel comfortable almost only on that level.  Not to feel an obligation to an articulated concept that has a beginning and an ending and a neat little story, but one that is more mysterious. 

And as I move on with the work, I’m more consciously aware of the mystery, of the unknown, of the things that don’t make any sense, that don’t add up. And I’m more consciously trying to infuse that into my work, or just let it be there without trying to destroy it and ask it for an answer.  Because I think that’s where it’s at.  And I think we’re living in a time where that’s not really widely celebrated.  I think we live in a time where people want answers.  Everything’s data, and it’s clean, and you can check boxes off, and so on paper you end up with something that should be great, it all adds up, but somehow it’s not.  Or it is, but it only is so much and that’s it.  I just have faith in the actual artist, and maybe not knowing, even, what they’re doing on a conscious level.  And if you think about it, that’s what makes something interesting.  That’s where the mystery is. 

RE: Pete