Matt Allison
MS: can you talk a little about your background? How did you long have you been doing this and what lead you into it?
MA: My creative background is similar to a lot people our age: An early aptitude for the construction paper/ crayon combo, a preteen obsession with reading and drawing comic books, and then total immersion in skateboarding/ punk rock, hip hop/ graffiti writing subcultures. In high school, I had an incredible art teacher who would let me hide out in the supply closet to look at slides and old Art in Americas. That was kind of I found out that you could be an artist for a job. Not like a cartoonist or an architect, but someone who makes works of art, professionally… I’ve been trying to figure out how that actually works ever since.
MS: like most emerging artists, you’re balancing a day job and studio practice simultaneously. What’s your studio schedule like and when do you find yourself most productive?
On an average week, I do my best to allot around 25 hours a week to my creative practice. That’s one full work day in the studio and a few hours each day during the work week. Whether I like it or not, my brain starts moving around 7 am, so I generally try and get things done then. Other hours are spent in my own head; mulling over ideas, problem solving, and planning things out. That way, when I am physically in the studio, I am ready to work. Since the need for a day job has always been a part of my reality, I just do my best to maximize the time I have. Long train commutes are great for getting the stuff done that the Internet would otherwise distract you from.
MS: when we’ve spoke about your work in the past, much of the critique has revolved around your 2-d work. Most of this work ends up included in larger installation based projects. Do you feel that there’s a disjunction between 2-dimensional and 3-dimensional approaches in your practice? Are there distinct steps leading towards common goal, or is everything approached with the same attitude?
MA: I very rarely envision my work as singular, autonomous pieces of “art.” Instead, I see each thing I make as a part of a larger whole, so it’s no real leap for me to use an earlier work as raw material for a new work. In my mind everything remains connected. If those connections aren’t immediately apparent, that just makes the work all the more engaging for those who experience it. It’s a struggle enough to see a piece to completion, and I certainly don’t need to make it harder by limiting myself access to use/ reuse my own work. I am fascinated by the idea of a work becoming more layered and more complex because of its relationship with another. Within the bounds of my own process, I invite that natural evolution.
MS: The act of collecting seems important to many artists that I know. The objects are always different, but the process seems connected to their creative lives. Many of your installations and sculptural work seem to be archives of related objects. Do you feel that collecting applies at all to your studio life?
MA: After I finished art school, it quickly dawned on me that I would be the one solely in charge of sustaining my art making. I figured that if I could get my creative process as close to the other things that I enjoyed doing, it would be that much easier. I’ve always loved (every aspect) of collecting things, and over time I just found more and more ways to make art out of doing it. Now after combining these two habits for a while, I find it makes sense on a bunch of different levels. With collecting there’s the time equity that comes with the endless searching and the wow factor of “where the hell did he find that?”; both of which translate really well into the context of experiencing art. I’ve never been much of a fabricator, so using objects that already exist just makes that much more sense. And because so much of the stuff I work with comes from thrift stores and second hand shops, my material costs remain low and I don’t feel forced to make work that needs to sell to succeed… not that I’d mind a sale from time to time.
MS: How much weight does the found object play in what you’re trying to achieve? I know that this tradition is present in your work, but how do you exercise it specifically? Is there a Dadaist ethic at work here, or do you gather things based on a certain criteria? are you critical of the things you acquire, or does chance dictate what makes it’s way into your sculptures?
MA: My relationship with the objects I make art of is a tricky one. Certain things I use specifically because of my relationship to them. These are things that I value because of the experience surrounding them, and want a sense of that incorporated into my piece. Things like gifts, mementos, souvenirs and other stuff I choose to keep in my life, art or no art. Now obviously the term “found” seems to arbitrary to describe that. On the other hand, a big portion of the objects I incorporate into my work are much more anonymous. These are chance encounters with something on the rack at the thrift store or happening to walk down the right block on the right day. I’ve never been able to fully articulate why I am attracted to somethings over others, and its probably best left not analyzed. Honestly, somethings just catch my eye and seem to have the potential to be something bigger then itself. A lot of the time I have no immediate clue what it will be used for, but somehow (even if its years down the road) it will end up being the exact piece I need to complete the puzzle.
MS: I know improvisation is important to you. How do you prepare yourself and your materials before constructing a piece?
MA: I wrote a text piece a while in the middle of “A Future Memory” project a couple of years ago. I was trying to describe how I was relating to the world at the time, and somehow the line about improvisation came out of that.
“Things fall apart, perhaps into noise, perhaps not. Other times things are quite under control, only in a completely random way. There are circumstances when not caring about a lot of things is ok, because you focused a lot of attention on one thing. There are also circumstances when this is not ok. An improvised approach is only possible though a fully prepared approach.”
My ultimate goal is to maintain a state of preparation. I move through the world as an artist, so I have to continually be on point. There are no “on days” or “off days.”
MS: What were your early influences like and how have they changed in recent years?
MA: I remember the first time I saw an image of a Rauschenberg. I was in that supply closet in my high school that I mentioned earlier. I looked in the slide viewer (it wasn’t even projected) and it was like this secret world just opened up and let me in. It was foreign and scary and grimy and dangerous and looked like it could fall apart at any minute. I was just so shocked and wanted to be a pat of it so bad. Over the years, I studied his work so much that I actually began to internalize his way of problem solving. I am lucky enough to see his work in person from time to time now, and they just make sense to me. And its certainly not because I am that good; its because my moves were learned through his.
More recently, I have been trying to assess how my own personal tastes affect the art that I make. I used to be very “oh, I would never use that sort of line” or “no way, not that color,” but I am really trying to chip away at that. My goal is to see everything as an available tool, and it’s just my job to find a way to use it that’s authentic to my experience. I am not designing interiors or cooking meals for people, so my concoctions don’t always need to be in perfect harmony. Its allowed me to open me up, and discover things that I would have shut myself off to before because I didn’t “like” it.
MS: What outside the art world influences your practice?
MA: Talking over beers. Food culture- in both its professional form and shared amongst friends and family form. The alternate reality stylings of MF DOOM and Phillip K Dick. Sunlight filtering through tree leaves. Composed music. Jazz music. The skateboarding of Bobby Puleo. Interesting clothing ensembles. Watching movies. Having been raised Catholic. Electronic music. Everything about the ocean. The successes of those close to me
MS: Any last thoughts?
MA: Yes. Thanks To Katie for a life of collaboration; To my parents for accepting something that even I still don’t understand; To my friends who have supported me through words, patronage and a constant willingness to try something new; and to my brothers for never giving up.
Special to Matt Allison for taking the time to talk about his work and post on Volume. To see images and learn more about his work visit http://www.afuturememory.com/












