At the show with the artist: Peter Sutherland asks Maia Ruth Lee about energy

We met Peter Sutherland last March, in New York City, in order to collect elements and impressions to write a story about him and add CFA’s voice to those who have supported his photography practice during the last few years. We had an early lunch together, in a nice small cafe in Soho, located just a few steps away from the New Museum – where we quickly visited together a solo show by Pia Camil at the ground floor that didn’t impress either of us. He ordered a plate of strawberries with yogurt and drunk still water while we had a delicious pad thai with a blond beer. We have talked about the art fairs happening in New York City that week and the way things are quickly changing after the rush of the last two years. We discussed about all those things that artists ought to do nowadays to be recognized by the art system, and how private collectors are becoming more and more influential while museums, on their side, are following the market instead of leading it with their activity. We also talked about the difference between being an artist and being a photographer and we suggested that, in the Instagram era, it’s all about the role that you want to play. Perhaps you don’t need anything else to be a photographer but to be dramatically convinced that you are a photographer, and act like Terry Richardson or Ryan McGinley, just to name a couple of characters in the comedy.
Sutherland did not comment on it. As his pictures may prove he is not just a good observer, but also a good listener.
After forty minutes, we left the cafe with no clear ideas about what to write. It does happen with photography, which is a very narrow medium to discuss about, especially if the photographer prefers landscapes and inanimate objects to human beings.
But two days later, while we were spending our last few hours in town visiting some galleries, we bumped into a convincing two-dimension wall piece composed of an electric heat blanket partially covered by a piece of heat sensitive fabric. A pale green regular serpentine appeared as the blanket’s factory-made heat coil was switch on. It was a simple metaphor, but an open, effective, poetic and well executed one. “It’s a piece by Maia Ruth Lee” said Emily Davidson, at that time still working for Canada Gallery. The name ringed a bell. “Perhaps you know her, she is Peter Sutherland’s wife” she told us.
Of course we knew who she was, as Maia is a frequent human presence animating Sutherland’s storytelling which he regularly shares with his audience through his books and engaging Tumblr account. She is the photographer’s wife, and an artist herself. Sometimes, we would add, she is also the second character behind the camera, or probably the immaterial support of the immaterial image itself. And considering the attention Sutherland pays to this aspect, when the immaterial is turned into material by the act of printing, it should be clear that the kind of relationship his images express is not just based on a visual interest in reality. Fire, mountains, trees, cans, cars, stickers. As recurring subject matters of Sutherland’s camera they are turned into vital symbols by the active presence of the different supports they are put in dialogue with; that is to say perforated vinyl sheets, plywood, crystals. In this case, we thought that a dialogue between husband and wife would be more meaningful than any interview. That is why we asked Peter to question Maia about that piece of art we saw in New York, a poetic representation of energy, empathy, mental and physical well being.

What do you hope the future holds for you in terms of art?

I think what fascinates me about being an artist is that it is ever-changing. I see so many careers develop in New York, and I see myself as an observer most of the time. The city is my school, and I feel lucky to be here, now, doing what I’m doing. In terms of what that future holds for me, I hope I can still be making things when I have children, when I am older, side by side with my husband who is also an artist I admire.

What is your studio practice like and how do you feel when you are creating art?

I love my studio practice especially when I have a set schedule. I find it hard sometimes to stay focused on one project so I will often times work on various things at a time. Sometimes I will paint for hours sometimes I will work on some graphical elements on the computer. I listen to a lot of podcasts, some of which are TED radio hour, Radiolab, This American Life, New Yorker Fiction, On Being, Stuff you should know and Surprisingly Awesome. I pack my lunch to the studio, a double decker lunchbox – with brown rice and soup.

You had a piece on exhibition at Canada gallery in NYC a few weeks ago, what about it?

“The Economy of language” was formed from an idea that came in a dream. Pali Kashi curated me into the Canada show, to accompany many other interesting works by wonderful artists.

What is the piece made of and why do you think you made it?

The electrical heat blanket under the heat sensitive fabric activates a writhed pattern that brings the source to the foreground. This ‘drawing’ is a unique pattern in each electrical blanket. The medium of heat/touch sensitive is interesting to me as heat and touch are both sources that are born from an energy transmitted through the body or electrical; they are evidence of power.

How has the reaction the piece been?

I think the reaction was good, but I’m sure many people were confused by it. Ephemeral work like this is sometimes hard to wrap your head around, I think because the way we formally interact view with artwork is that the artwork is often times absolute and completed. I like the fact that this piece doesn’t just engage with just the electricity flowing through it, but with the temperature of the room as well. In a way the “The Economy of language” is a living object in the room, producing a direct response to its environment.

November 21, 2022