Stephen Lapthisophon: An Artist in Conversation ()
This piece delves into the artistic practice of Stephen Lapthisophon, a Dallas-based artist and writer renowned for his ephemeral works encompassing performance, sound, and installation. Using unconventional materials like coffee and pigmented animal fat, Lapthisophon’s mixed-media works on paper pulsate with a raw enrgy. On the eve of his participation in the group exhibition “For Dear Life: Art, Medicine, and Disability” at the Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego, Lapthisophon engages in a conversation, shedding light on his artistic journey, inspirations, and the profound influence of poetry and film on his creations.
The Interview:
Gabriel Martinez (GM): What has fueled your artistic fire? Who or what has left an indelible mark on your creative spirit?
Stephen Lapthisophon (SL): My inspirations have been a constantly evolving tapesty. While paintings and works on paper currently dominate my practice, installations were my sole focus for a significant period. The ephemeral nature of these installations, often crafted from found objects, resonated deeply with me.
It all began with a show at the Nancy Lurie Gallery in Chicago. The logistical constraints of shipping my work led me to create the entire exhibition on-site, using found objects. This experience ignited a passion for transforming spaces through fleeting, site-specfic interventions.
My fascination with ephemerality stems from my admiration for installation artists of the past years. Exposure to early Russian modernism, particularly the installations of Alexander Rodchenko, during my time in Austin significantly shaped my artistic sensibilities. The performative aspect of these works, their ability to exist as fleeting moments in time, continues to captivate me.
Later, while pursuing comparative literature at Northwestern, I delved into the writings of the Frankfurt School, which further fueled my interest in the political implications of creating art with ephemeral and humble materials. My travels through Europe exposed me to the works of Arte Povera artists, further solidifying this infuence.
Among American artists, Robert Smithson holds a special place in my heart. His expansive practice, encompassing writing, creation, and even the act of “not making,” deeply resonates with me. Smithson’s exploration of ephemerality, the inevitable decay and disintegration of materials, mirrors my own artistic concerns.
Poetry, too, plays a pivotal role in my creative process. The unexpected juxtapositions, the disjunctions that create a unique rhythm and flow, find their way into my installations. I strive to challenge viewers’ expectations, often leaving them questioning the finished state of a piece.
The body, its limitations and potential, seems like a recurring theme in your work. Would you agree?
SL: While I don’t actively engage in theoretical discourses surrounding the body, looking back, I recognize its presence in my work. Many of my pieces explore physical limitations, the boundaries of what bodies can and cannot achieve. My drawings and paintings, for instance, often reflect the limits of my reach, the physical act of creation.
My upcoming exhibition, “For Dear Life,” directly addresses themes of health, medicine, and disability. This show echoes my earlier work, “Reasonable Accommodation,” which explored similar concepts through installations that challenged viewers’ movement and perception of space.
Although not explicitly performative, my works on paper and paintings are infused with a sense of action and gesture. The process of creation involves pouring, layering, and manipulating materials, actions driven by instinct rather than preconceived notions. These gestures, though seemingly quotidian, become imbued with a different significance within the context of art.
It’s fascinating how you embrace the unexpected, allowing the work to unfold organically. How do you determine the starting point and, more importantly, the endpoint of a piece?
SL: My installations emerge from a dialogue between materials and a vague notion or a snippet of language that captures my attention. It’s about embracing spontaneity, responding to the materials and letting the work guide me.
Similarly, my works on paper and paintings begin with intuitive gestures. Pouring has become a favored technique, freeing me from excessive deliberation. I resist creating overly programmatic work, preferring to leave room for mystery and open-endedness.
My process is about embracing the unknown, allowing for moments of serendipity and surprise. I believe that art should spark wonder and invite multiple interpretations rather than offering a singular, definitive explanation.
The text fragments that occasionally appear in your work – are they drawn from personal experiences? How do they find their way into the peice?
SL: Collage lies at the heart of my creative process. I incorperate saved scraps of paper, found text, or even phrases overheard while working. The act of writing, of making marks, is deeply intertwined with my artmaking.
Sometimes, the text directly relates to the work, while other times it’s purely about the aesthetics of letterforms. Text functions as a bridge between representation and pure mark-making, highlighting the physical act of creation.
These textual interventions offer a glimpse into my thought process, capturing fleeting thoughts and ideas that arise during the creative process. They are not meant to be deciphered literally but rather experienced as fragments of a larger, often chaotic, internal dialogue.
As someone who has collaborated extensively with poets, I see a strong connection between your work and the world of poetry. How do you percieve this relationship?
SL: I strive to infuse my work with the same ambiguity and open-endedness that I find captivating in poetry. The way a poem can shift unexpectedly, creating a sense of disjunction that is felt rather than explained, resonates deeply with my artistic sensibilities.
My goal is not to narrate or describe literally but to evoke a particular feeling or atmosphere. Poetry achieves this through tone and affect, and it’s something I aim to capture in my work as well.
Like a carefully crafted poem, my pieces invite viewers to engage with their emotions and interpretations, leaving space for individual contemplation and resonance.
Your background in film is evident in your work, particularly in your book “Writing Art Cinema.” How does this medium influence your artistic practice?
SL: Film has undoubtedly shaped my artistic vision. I’m drawn to the power of film to establish a distinct tone and atmosphere. I enjoy weaving references to popular culture, particularly cinema, into my work. It’s a way to introduce an element of familiarity while also subverting expectations.
Film, like art, offers a shared language, a way to connect with viewers on a deeper level. While my references often lean towards older films, I believe they still hold relevance in our contemporary world, prompting reflection on how our understanding of the past shapes our present.
Conclusion:
Stephen Lapthisophon’s artistic practice is a testament to the power of ephemerality, the beauty of disintegration, and the evocative potential of everyday materials. Through his installations, mixed-media works, and writings, he invites viewers to embrace the unknown, to find meaning in the fleeting moments, and to engage in a dialogue that transcends language. His work, much like a haunting poem or a thought-provoking film, lingers in the mind long after the encounter, prompting contemplation and a renewed appreciation for the ephemeral nature of existence.