While visiting the Humboldt Park studio of painter Gwendolyn Zabicki one may note a sense of disorientation. On the surface the space appears to be a traditional painter’s studio, organized around utilizing the best natural light. Yet, in time, one will notice unseen activities are currently in process. These invisible items imply a need to take pause and reflect. This week the COMP magazine caught up with Zabicki to discuss her youth in Chicago, the roll mirrors play in her aesthetic practice, her time spent in contemplation, and her upcoming exhibitions and curatorial efforts.
Gwendolyn Zabicki, Clean A Mirror with Vinegar, oil on canvas, 2017
You are a “true” Chicagoan, born and bred. You even have a touch of that distinct Chicago accent. So, can we jump in by discussing your youth and what informed your decision to pursue a career as a painter? Are there any specific individuals or experiences you see as influencing your way of looking at and creating work?
There was one experience I had as a young person that taught me to look carefully and influenced the way I work. It was caused by looking at an advertisement on the side of a carton of Dole brand Pineapple-Orange-Banana juice. My parents used to buy this juice, and it sat on the table during breakfast when I was a kid. I had been to museums and I had seen important, iconic artwork, but I couldn’t relate to any of that. It just seemed like museums were full of pictures of naked people fighting. The advertisement on the juice carton was for a promotional contest. You could win a pair of baseball tickets if you sent in the UPC code on the bottom of the carton. The advertisement showed a grandfather and a grandson at a baseball game. The grandfather was holding a baseball mitt up into the air like he was going to catch a fly ball and the look on his face was of pure joy. He was in ecstasy. The grandson next to him was maybe five years old and as a child model, not as good at faking emotion. He didn’t look upset, but looked a little bit bored. The disparity between their emotional states is what stood out. I looked at this image every day for weeks and one day I thought, oh my god, this moment that I am seeing is the moment just before the grandson says some awful, nasty thing to his grandfather. I am seeing the last perfect moment, the moment just before he stabs him in the heart and says, “I’m bored. Baseball is stupid.” I thought maybe the grandfather couldn’t afford baseball tickets and only got them because he won them and that all he wanted was to share this special thing with his thoughtless, ungrateful grandson. This could play out in two ways. The best thing would be if they both forgot this moment, like it never happened. If the grandson remembered someday what he did, by the time he was old enough to apologize, his grandfather would be dead.
Gwendolyn Zabicki, Fingerprints on a Mirror, oil on canvas, 2018
I was about ten or twelve years old at that time, and I had said nasty things to my mom. At that age I was embarrassed to be seen with her, not because of anything she did, but I was embarrassed by everything, to be seen at all. I snapped at her once in the grocery store for buying generic butter. We did not have a lot of money at the time and the generic packaging was so awful back then. I was ashamed to be poor and I was ashamed to be ashamed. All of this, this entire narrative was contained in that image on the juice carton, in the subtle expression on that young boy’s face. This picture was devastating. I had to turn it away. This image was really my first deep read of anything. Because it sat on the table every morning, I was in a place to analyze it. When I was a little bit older, I learned that there was a whole profession of people who made images and who studied them and obsessed over them. Even though this early experience with careful looking was a painful one, being an artist was a good fit for me. I liked the feeling of discovery, when an image slowly reveals its meaning to you.
Gwendolyn Zabicki, The Door Is Open, oil on canvas, 2018
In your practice, mirrors play an important roll in your aesthetic investigation. I’m wondering how you decided to center your attention upon this item that implies illusionary and reflective dimensions?
The paintings of mirrors came out of a larger series of paintings about cleaning. The cleaning paintings focus on the many daily, tedious and nearly invisible systems that (mostly) women put in place in order to maintain a clean and functioning household. These paintings deal with surface – shiny polished wood, streaky wet mirrors, wrinkled plastic bags, and porous sponges. They also reflect what is just beneath that surface – that women give their families thousands of hours of unpaid, unseen physical and emotional labor. Learning to paint is about learning to see – to notice the hue, saturation, and value of the objects around us. But I would add that painting is also about learning to acknowledge the things that are right in front of us and to care about them.
Gwendolyn Zabicki, Infinite Recess, oil on canvas, 2018
The mirror paintings are momentarily confusing. They depict things that are intrinsically hard to see and even harder to care about – reflections distorted by drips of vinegar, smudgy fingerprints, mirrors reflecting mirrors reflecting windows, and the room that contains the mirrors. It takes a second to figure out what it is you’re looking at. My hope is that this disorientation causes the viewer to see the paintings with fresh eyes. When a system functions smoothly it is hard to appreciate it. It’s only when a system is broken or distorted that we notice it at all. These paintings are very much about empathy. I want to notice and be aware of all the things that I missed.
Gwendolyn Zabicki, Two Mirrors, oil on canvas, 2017
When I think about your studio practice, I tend to focus upon the time you spend thinking about and creating space on a canvas. Your approach in terms of application and thought appear to be time consuming. Can you share with us your process?
Monday through Friday I wake up at 8, drink coffee, putter around the house, and respond to emails. Then I walk to my studio through beautiful Humboldt Park, and get to work around 10, 10:30. I spend a lot of time moving mirrors around, waiting for good light, trying out different things. Each painting is made from observation. I spray the mirror with vinegar, look at it for a bit, and then paint. Spray, look, paint. Spray, look, paint. Spray, look, paint. I have started putting the paintings in front of mirrored walls and a mirrored floor. It’s like a 70’s disco in here. If I am teaching, I leave my studio at 3:30 to head down to the Hyde Park Art Center. Weekends are for tennis. It’s pretty sweet – I can’t complain.
Gwendolyn Zabicki, Winter Mirror, oil on canvas, 2017
What’s the plan for 2018? Are there any specific works or series you hope to call closure to this year? Do you have any upcoming exhibitions?
I have a lot coming up in 2018! First of all there is Women Painting Men at the Riverside Arts Center. It opens May 20th from 3 to 6pm and runs until June 23rd. I have a solo show at Roman Susan Gallery that runs September 1st to September 22nd and I’m curating a show at the College of DuPage titled On Anxiety that runs from September 1st to October 13th. The opening will be Saturday September 8th from 3 to 5pm. Finally, I am co-curating an exhibition at The Illinois State Museum that opens October 20th. It is a selection of work from the collection of Diane and Browne Goodwin, wonderful supporters of emerging artists in Chicago.
Gwendolyn Zabicki, Big Mirror, oil on canvas, 2017
For additional information on the paintings of Gwendolyn Zabicki, please visit:
Gwendolyn Zabicki – http://gwendolynzabicki.com/home.html
Women Painting Men exhibit – http://www.riversideartscenter.com/women-painting-men/
Roman Susan Gallery – http://romansusan.org
On Anxiety exhibit – http://www.clevecarneygallery.org/on-anxiety/
Chicago Woman – http://chicago-woman.com/profiles/influencers/artist-of-the-week-gwendolyn-zabicki/
Chicagoist – http://chicagoist.com/2013/02/03/interview_painter_gwendolyn_zabicki.php
Gwendolyn Zabicki, painter, Chicago, 2018
Artist interview and portrait by Chester Alamo-Costello
