01.20.04
Today's special guest, Ms. Julie Comnick! (wild applause) Julie is a good friend, a Golden Bear, and an art star. She has been called "excellent," "outstanding," "particularly relevant," "a creator of succinct, enigmatic parables," "a suggestive arranger of objects," and "an adequate crafter." We love her, and here are some second opinions.

HK: Welcome to the Kitchen. How are you today?

Julie: Great, except I'm off coffee this week, so I have a dull headache.

HK: Is that purely masochistic, or are you trying to get off the stuff permanently?

Julie: Purely masochistic. I was trying to do a week long detox plan, but broke down and had a beer last night. Coffee first thing tomorrow morning.

HK: You may have noticed that I followed you from Columbus to Olympia, and then to Seattle. Did you move to Bozeman, Montana just to shake me?

Julie: Again, purely masochistic. I was hoping you'd follow me again, but you shook me by moving to D.C.! In fact, I moved into your Seattle apartment when you moved, so you ditched me first.

HK: Ah, yes, I forgot. Okay, onto the art! Many readers know you by your wonderful, rather scary, and extra large size art. Yesterday I wrote fan Bob, "i just got a bunch of new stuff from julie comnick. yay!" and he wrote, "oh awesome. what'd she send you? more animals eating themselves alive for the living room?" So my question is, how'd you get into wildlife art?

Julie: Ah, yes, the "wildlife" question. Wildlife animals have taken various roles in my work, but it has never been about wildlife specifically. I started including animals when I was in graduate school in Montana, and I took a liking to vultures and other raptors. Their roles in the paintings were symbolic, referring to the imminence of death without outright depicting it. I became fascinated with the turkey vulture's sense of smell, and its fuzzy pink phallic head. The preoccupation with birds evolved into incorporating dogs, both wild and domestic. Again, the work has never been of or about merely the animals, but the animal's role within a larger narrative. It is the association of animals, objects, and people that create the narrative in each piece.

A while back a couple from Charlottesville, VA bought a few of my drawings from a gallery here in Chicago. Part of the sale included flying myself and one of the gallery owners to Virginia to spend a weekend on their idyllic farm, so that I could meet a "fellow wildlife artist" whose work they collect. The artist's large, bronze sculptures of flapping hawks and frisky otters decorated much of their property, indoors and out. Needless to say, my work has been included in wildlife art collections nationwide.

HK: Ha ha, excellent. Ooh, we have our first caller. It's Tess, from Portland. How do you know this chick?

Julie: I knew Tess from her preadolescent days in Columbus, Ohio. At her house was the first time I had lentil soup.

HK: It's where I first had tofu. Okay, Tess has many arty questions, so here we go.

Tess: hallo! here are some questions of interest to myself - do your paintings start with an image in your head or a subject concept, or are those the same thing?

Julie: Well, Tess, the ideas come about a number of ways. Sometimes I'll have an idea of what I want an image to be about, or what I want it to look like, and I'll seek out models or references to support that vision. Other times, I'll see an object or individual that will spark an idea, and I'll go from there. Regardless, the image usually changes or develops as I search for reference materials or do research. Often I'll run into something along the way that will shift the scope of the painting.

Tess: this grouping of paintings (in absentia) incorporates lovely colors, more vivid colors than the last batch (within earshot), maybe with the exception of cadence. also you're covering more of the canvas. why the transition?

Julie: The main transition I see is some of the recent paintings having "atmospheres" as the backgrounds, rather than a solid colored ground. The concept is the same, that the objects/people/animals are arranged on the painted ground without reference to the actual ground or horizon. As far as vivid colors, maybe I've become a bit more brave, but it's probably due to the crappy lighting in my living room/studio. They look a lot brighter in proper light.

Tess: what's the deal with no horizon lines or defined planes? how would you explain this element of your work to non-art people (is there a whole group of artists who do this? how fundamental is it to how you define your paintings?)

Julie: The absence of a horizon line or defined planes is one of numerous aspects of my paintings that is concerned with absence itself. Whether it is a depiction of a hole in the ground, an empty confessional, or a lack of horizon line, leaving things out of the painting causes the viewer to consider the meaning that the empty spaces hold. Further, eliminating elements from the painting that don't directly pertain to the narrative help us focus on what that narrative actually is. Many of my images depict otherwise mundane situations, but by isolating them within the painting they become significant, and they shape the content.

HK: I do believe you cut and pasted that direct from your artist's statement!

Tess: what's with the pit/burial theme?

Julie: (can I skip this one?)

HK: Tess, she just answered that.

Tess: why not make paintings of dimensions more appropriate to fit into the homes of your friends?

Julie: Oh, but they do! Mike Bova has a big one that he hauled from Olympia to NYC, Jenny has one on the way, and you yourself have one that as I recall, with my permission, you cut in half.

Tess: Conviction & Occupation could be classified as political paintings. do you have apprehensions about entering that realm or are all subjects equal? do you see your role as a commentator on your world as similar to, or aspiring to be similar to other painters, or do you prefer not to anticipate how the history books will classify you & your work? :)

Julie: I agree, a few of my recent paintings and drawings are more political, or at least engage in current political discussions. While I have always admired artists who embrace political causes and aren't concerned with current art trends, I think my own work is primarily allegorical, using a specific scenario to refer to a larger theme in a non-conventional sort of way. These themes range from the personal to political.

phew. these were tough.

HK: All right, we'll ease up for a bit. You have a pretty nifty website.

Julie: And so handy! Now when someone next to me on the plane asks me about my work, I can skip the interview and simply refer them to my stylish website. From friends, I have received numerous complements on it's non-pretentious flare! I'm serious, Jenny, I think you could make a bundle off of doing these for other artists. Jesse's website is seriously my favorite of artist's websites I've seen, and her work deserves it, I love it.

HK: Well thanks. That was a very successful compliment dig. So, what are you doing for a job these days?

Julie: I got a job at the Chicago Historical Society as an exhibits preparator. I know, sounds fancy, but I'll spend my days in a small cement room with no windows. It's a temporary four month position to start, and hopefully by then I'll be moving out of this town.

HK: Congrats, from all of us working in windowless basements. Okay, our next question is from Jill, our resident famous children's book illustrator/writer. Jill, go ahead.

Jill: OK it's not a fancy question but it's one I'd really like to know the answer to: How do you choose the image you're going to paint? What's your process for coming up with an image worth painting? (same question stated two ways).

Julie: Tess asked a similar question, but I'll give you a more specific response. First I should say that I hardly ever have arty dreams, just this once... So, the other night I had a dream that I was in a class that had a visiting artist giving a presentation, and she showed us this slide of a still life with a man in the middle. She asked for interpretations, and I raised my hand to answer but when she called on me I couldn't remember her name and was too embarrassed to give my interpretation, so I never said it. But, my interpretation would have been: "what would the man have to be doing to make us know he is listening?" Then I woke up and really wanted to make a painting that implied sound, and a guy listening. So I decided to do a painting, which I haven't done yet, of some sort of explosion outside of the picture plane causing the people in the painting to panic, and then a guy trying to shush them to listen to the radio, on the other side of the painting. That's it, really.

HK: Cool.

Rebecca: hey jenny! how ya doin' kiddo? ask julie who she looks at in terms of other artists. how she feels about parting with work when she sells. john currin: totally overrated?

Julie: Agreed: John Currin, totally overrated (although, I have to say he's been a hard one for me). A lot of artists I look at either work in a different medium or have different content in their work, but these are a few I love. Of course they're primarily white men, some dead: Leon Golub, Ed Ruscha, Gregory Gillespie, Eric Fischl (his 80's work), Ben Shahn (his allegorical work), Juan Munoz, Jeff Wall, Ed and Nancy Kienholz, Kerry James Marshall, Bruegel...

On the rare occasion that I sell something, or even give a piece away, I'm happy. Currently my old paintings either get taken off the stretchers and rolled up, or stacked against the wall, so I don't see them anyway. I love to know that someone likes the work enough to look at it all the time.

Tess: oh yes. ask her how the hell it's going with the new guy!! maybe only new to me...

HK: well, it's been a couple years, dear. it sounds like it's going great. he's cute and handy.

Tess: okay, then ask her when she plans to leave that hell hole and return to her first love, the pacific northwest.

Julie: The new guy is two years as of last weekend, and HK is right, cute and handy as can be. We've vowed to leave Chicago next fall and head for greener, lusher pastures, but first we're taking a practice trip to the Northwest in February.

HK: Alright, before we let you go, tell us about your adorable little cat, Gai Pan.

Julie: I could go on endlessly about my adorable cat, Gai Pan, and usually do. Her favorite film is Winged Migration, which I highly recommend all cat owners rent and watch with their felines.

HK: Listen to the lady, people, she knows cats. Julie, thanks for visiting with us. You are a wonderful artist and a prolific beer drinker. Some day you'll be famous, and I'll have to sell my flamingos for gin. Thank you in advance. We love you.

Julie: Cheers!