Artist Interview: Kayle Karbowski
You lie your body down. Your close your eyes. Your consciousness surrenders itself to the realm of sleep. The walls of rationality, routine, and habit through which you perceive your daily life temporarily fall aside. Your mind is allowed to give you dreams that show you all of the feelings, meat, and urges that are too strange, too unfamiliar, or too (seemingly) illogical to be seen in the light of day while you are awake and trying to make sense of the world. They show you that you are more than the small sliver of identity you know throughout most of your waking life.
This is how I experience the work of artist Kayle Karbowski. It strips away the various mental filters that typically limit my perception of life, and it catalyzes a fuller, deeper, more vibrant experience of myself. When I was delving into her work to prepare this interview, I looked at her site and her videos for over an hour. Afterward, when I took off my headphones and turned the lights back on, I felt like I was exiting a mind-warping wormhole, coming out the other end with different vision. I was looking at the same familiar body that I refer to as "me", sitting in the same apartment that I see every day, but my felt sense of myself and the forms around me had been entirely altered–disoriented and re-oriented by the phenomena of Kayle's art. Pink body hair. Oracular 8 balls. The Void. The unknowable. Mazes. Cryptic forms of ambiguous origins.
You can find her work on her site (kaylekarbowski.com) and on her Vimeo page (vimeo.com/kaylekarbowski/) and you can read her thoughts about her work below.
BEN JON MILLER: Can you recall and describe a work which, while you were making it, you didn’t fully understand? In hindsight, what do you think led you to make that piece?
KAYLE KARBOWSKI: I mean, I’d say that is essentially the case for everything that I make– the things that I end up liking/showing people, at least. I think of making art as a way of exploring an idea/imagery etc. and that’s why I make things in the first place. Most of the things I make start with a singular object or interaction or thought that I’m fascinated by, like, almost to the point of obsession. The moon, a magic 8 ball, the 3D maze Windows ‘98 screensaver, a banana peel, the color beige, black holes, trying to merge the sound of hands and arms rubbing against each other with the sound of waves of water to an indistinguishable point– these are all examples of things that I at first had a really surface level or simplistic fascination with– that I basically just wanted to make a cool image or vignette with– turned into the work that I show the world. I work through my interest in the thing, continuing to build upon it, abstract it, try to complicate it, to the point that I can complicate and build up my understanding of the thing or idea. So ultimately what people end up seeing is how this relationship manifests.
This is easiest for me to see/explain through my video work. I think of my videos much more of a maze rather than a line– simply put, they’re non-linear. But they are non-linear because they are trying to provide an experience–a feeling–not tell a story or make a point. The experience from A (0:00, the beginning of the video) to B (x:xx, the end of the video) is meant to jump around within your mental space, much like a memory or a dream. The participant (viewer, audience…) is encouraged (and expected) to freely associate between images, colors, interactions, etc. and come to their own terms with them. If you want to know what my work is about, it’s about the relationship I’ve built with my subjects–how they relate to my past, present, future. And it’s meant for you to explore yours. And that I think is a statement in itself, relating to the idea that “the personal is political”... which is to say that by me (or you) sharing my (or your) experience we may be able to find that we may have more in common than we think. That everything is filtered through our perception of our reality… both in the socio/political sense of privilege, visibility and power in our society as well as a more metaphysical sense of who/what we are in relation to the other things around us.
B: When I see your work, a few of pieces seemed suggestive of what some folks call The Void. This might just be a projection of my own fascination with that term and all that it implies, but I am curious - What does The Void mean to you? What role has it played in your art?
K: A hole, an abyss, something we cannot access, mystery, the deepest depths, the unknown, a tunnel, a path to somewhere else, a black/opaque window, the color black, endlessness, sublime, that which we cannot define, a blank spot, unknowable. That’s a list of what I think of when I think of “The Void” and it sends shivers down my spine and I love it.
A void in thinking or a concept–[I am] embracing that in the way that I work. Essentially using that as the basis of the work, creating a brain map around the concept until I have a thing that I want to call art. That’s again why I think of my work as maze-like and also why I still haven’t quite figured out how to simplify my ideas into a few words for a specific piece of mine. I’m coming at it from so many different angles and continue to find more even after I call the piece “done”.
I think it’s really important for us as a species to become comfortable with the idea of the unknown/unknowable. Relish in it. Celebrate it. It’s therapeutic in a very real way for me–to take something I don’t know or don’t understand and explore it... but then at the end saying there’s no definitive answer for it anyways. It’s not nihilism, I’m not saying there’s no point to anything. I’m just saying I don’t think Point B really exists. Or if it does, there’s also a Point C, Point D, Point R2-7000…
B: When I think of my relation to the art I’ve made and when I observe others’ relation to their own art, it often seems that people create forms or experiences that their psyche needs or craves. The art we give birth to somehow allows us to perceive and manipulate phenomena that reflect, benefit, or challenge our sense of being. Conscious and unconscious aspects of ourselves, internal tendencies and wishes–these psychological sinews come through the work and give us a chance to work with them. It’s almost as if the work is an independent entity that comes through the creator’s mind, heart, or what have you and delivers the work to them. If you could play a thought-game with me and imagine your work in this way, what does your work give to you? What do you imagine this hypothetical entity wants to give you through your work? How have the contents of its givings influenced your perspective and your life?
K: I suppose this is the way in which I think about my work–that I’m a receiver or a medium of some sort… or actually that I’m a synthesizer… is there a difference between a medium and a synthesizer? The difference is that a medium somewhat suggests that there’s minimal filtering happening. Such as, air is a medium for sound waves. Air’s existence gives sound waves particles to travel between and through. The things that make up the particles that make up air (air being the thing humans breathe on the planet Earth) affect the waves differently than they would through different air, or no air at all. I’m more like the particles or a specific particle. I’m the thing or have the thing that makes the particle behave a certain way. I’m a filter that changes the composition of the particle or many particles into new or altered ones as opposed to a vessel to take a particle from one place to another. My mind is the hypothetical entity. I don’t know if it’s my subconscious or unconscious or conscious self (insert existential crisis here)… probably a combination of all three. Meant to alter or question my understanding of my past, present and future. Again, using myself as a template or platform for others to reflect on my reflections and compare/relate/interpret their understanding of themselves/others through it.
Giving me the acceptance and freedom that comes with a belief that our purpose as humans is to fuck around with ideas and information until we have new ones. That’s like, the scientific understanding. As Kurt Vonnegut says “we are here on Earth to fart around, and don't let anybody tell you different.” Then there’s the spiritual/moral/humanistic (why does this have to be separate from “scientific”?) reality that we should enjoy the time we have “here” (being conscious? sentient?) and that we should help others have the opportunity to do so, too. But how do we best do that? I’m not particularly answering that last one with my work. I very much so believe in activism and it’s a very important part of my life, but I’m not overtly trying to solve or point to specific issues. I’m more interested in being political through form than through language.
B: I think we are each specifically attracted to that which helps us learn about ourselves and the world. This could be an attraction to the color blue, the moon, a particular field of work, a sport, shoes, a person, anything at all. I believe you’re a fan of Twin Peaks. What is it about that show that pulls you in? Where does it take you?
K: I fucking love David Lynch. There, okay, I said it. Some may call me a cliché. I don’t frickin’ care. Part of why I love him in particular is that he is somewhat of a mainstream director. Twin Peaks was a way for David Lynch to seep into American culture without the mainstream really knowing, like a fucked up but not sociopathic Andy Warhol. It was on the air, on ABC on Sunday nights in 1990-1991 AD (it aired during Aries season). I’ve read (although I haven’t found concrete evidence of this in the 5 minutes I spent on Google) that it was one of the top-rated shows in the US the year of 1990 AD. So among Roseanne, Full House, Cheers, Murder She Wrote, Unsolved Mysteries and America’s Funniest Home Videos sits the dreams of David Lynch (and Mark Frost) via Twin Peaks. The structure of the show makes it a soap opera-esque mystery drama, yet the content of it goes from high schoolers doing drugs and getting themselves in trouble soon turns into a story about the spiritual/psychological happenings in a small town. My experience with Twin Peaks has led me to see the show as commentary, or another lens through which to view small towns and the suburban, as well as the Hollywood-ized mentality around tragedy and trauma that is actually pretty toxic.
Although I didn’t grow up in a small town like Twin Peaks, I grew up in the white-picket fence suburbs of Chicago. Like, John Hughes films are real and I don’t know if it’s his interpretation of the suburbs of Chicago or if the suburbs adapted to be as much like John Hughes films as they could. I suppose I just really want to see David Lynch’s adaption of “Sixteen Candles”.
B: How does the study of astrology affect your awareness of yourself, others, and the world?
K: At a young age someone informed me I was a Scorpio, “the most evil sign of the zodiac”. As a child that was known for bossing around my friends and seemingly born with an interest in horror films, it’s needless to say I was immediately intrigued. True to my Scorpio nature (and now that I know more about astrology, I’ll blame it on my Aquarius Moon and Mercury/Venus in Sagittarius as well), I had to find the other side of Scorpios. The truth. There’s no way I was destined to be a bad person, right?
Once I learned the basics of the 12 signs, my study of astrology ebbed and flowed throughout the rest of my life, seemingly appearing back at the front of my mind in times of major identity crisis. Fast forward a few years and I’m in art school and adulthood hits, there’s a bunch of new people to get to know and critical thinking becomes the focus of my academic studies. As I began doing friends’ birth charts and was faced with the question over and over again, “so what does that mean about me?” I realized that my interest in astrology wasn’t about learning my star-aligned destiny, it was [about learning] a possible destiny. Being a Scorpio didn’t mean that I was a sex-obsessed, secretive, and vindictive person. Having my Moon in Aquarius didn’t mean I was doomed to forever over-rationalize my feelings away. Instead, my birth chart provided me a mirror to see myself in. A mirror I could reach into and reorganize the pieces until they felt right. I could shape my past, present, and future into who I wanted to be, not who I had to be.
As with everything in the occult, the validity astrology holds in our physical plane isn’t really what matters. It’s what it does in our minds, in our guts, in our hearts. How do we see ourselves as part of the larger whole of society? How do we see ourselves when we’re alone with ourselves?
B: How has your creative practice altered or added to your experience of life?
K: I suppose it’s somewhat cheesy to say, but my creative practice is my life. Not in the way where I’m like, “Oh yeah, I’m always in the studio experimenting with material and making new work,” but in the way that I don’t see a line between the work I make and the rest of my life. Creativity in general is such an odd concept to me, and maybe that’s just part of my privilege of having it. I personally don’t really even think of myself as that much of a “creative” person. I’ve always thought of myself more as a receiver of sorts. I take information in, I internalize it (whether it be in a conscious or subconscious way… or anywhere in between), and I give it form. So I guess maybe it hasn’t really added or altered much, just given my way of operating in the world a name.
What helps you maintain your connection to creative ideas and inspiration? This could be a habit, an intention or motive, a material, a place, a person, a book, or anything else.
My constant internal struggle over escapism and activism, student debt, and my insatiable need to prove to everyone who doubted my ability to make a life out of art wrong. :)
But really… I’d say my tarot practice, my dreams, consuming really bad and really good speculative fiction and all of it in between, listening to/watching music videos of late 90’s to early 00’s pop. I have a deep drive that I have a hard time putting words to… but I think I really just want to make my fantasy into a physical reality… and that maybe if I can bring my fantasies to life I have the power to change more. That’s the thought that always brings me back to making.
B: What kind of experiences would you like audiences to have through your work? This could be broadly open-ended or specifically intentioned.
K: I once heard another video artist say something like, “being political through form”, and that’s how I see my approach to how I want people to experience my work. I purposefully make things in a meandering way and I don’t really have any desire to be didactic. I show you images, textures, words, symbols, interactions that I have arranged in a certain way according to how I feel and think about them but I don’t really care if you feel the same way. Our experiences in life will give them different meanings. Although, I often find that when I talk to people about my work, they relate to it in one way or another. Semiotics are cool.
Are there any challenging aspects of your creative practice (or your life) that you enjoy or appreciate, despite the difficulty? How do you respond to those challenges when they arise?
I don’t want to say I’m a masochist, but I do think that difficulties are what drive me to do what I do. I respond by making. Like, I think everything is difficult and if something isn’t, I tend to always find a way to make things difficult or complex just so I can find a pathway through it. I suppose a much less dramatic way to say that is that I really love to solve puzzles… even if they do involve some discomfort.
B: Have you had any life experiences that impacted or shifted your approach to art-making? If so, could you describe one of them and share how it affected you?
K: I think art school really did a number on me. After graduating, I immediately felt like I had changed myself in order to fit as nicely into academia as I could… (which really wasn’t that well) but I was great at intellectualizing the shit out of something so it sounded smart instead of me whining about something I didn’t like. I left art school feeling like it was one way or the other and that if I wanted to make work about “feeling” or “intuition” it was not thoughtful (oh my god was that the patriarchy at work in art school!?)
Anyways, I’ve spent a lot of my time post-grad dissecting that feeling, taking what I want and forcibly forgetting what I don’t. And by saying this I don’t mean to shit on art school. I don’t think I would have learned the critical thinking that has led me to this perspective if I hadn’t gone, and I quite honestly think what I went/am going through is largely the point of it. At the end of it all, my post-grad angst has really shown me what I value in my own work and the art around me. But who am I kidding, I’ve always been angsty and forever will be. I suppose that’s just how I learn.
B: Is there a website or link you'd like to give people to contact you or find your work?
K: http://kaylekarbowski.com/
Or come find me on Instagram @zenmaster_69. I drink lots of Evian :)
[You can also find a lot of her videos on her Vimeo page (https://vimeo.com/kaylekarbowski/)]
On my blog, you can find writings on art and alchemical thinking, interviews about creativity, psychologically-oriented reflections on tarot, and more. You can check out past posts in the categorized list below. You can also find my art, music, and Lila Radio, an auditory series of improvised, absurdist, psychedelic (mind-manifesting) storytelling.
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Art
- Dec 19, 2016 Wakey Wakey, Inner Kiddo
- Dec 28, 2016 How to Make Magical Oranges
- Aug 17, 2017 Put the Potatoes on Your Face
- Sep 14, 2017 Art is a Portal
- Dec 1, 2017 Why the Tutu?
- Apr 3, 2018 Public Alchemy: Notes on Street Performance
- Jun 22, 2018 The Freedom and Fear of Being Yourself (Notes on Performance and Life)
- Jul 2, 2018 About the Folks Who Think You Stink (Notes on Performance and Life)
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Interviews
- Feb 21, 2018 Artist Interview: Samantha Blumenfeld
- Mar 1, 2018 Artist Interview: Lawrence Blackman
- Apr 23, 2018 Interview: Yogi Ron Katwijk
- Jun 4, 2018 Artist Interview: Sally Nicholson
- Jul 18, 2018 Artist Interview: Kayle Karbowski
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Magical Thinking
- Dec 28, 2016 How to Make Magical Oranges
- Jan 15, 2017 Following Fear
- Feb 19, 2017 Why Does Heartache Happen?
- Jul 6, 2017 Nerves and Tutus
- Aug 7, 2017 Three Reasons to Destroy Yourself (Or Not)
- Sep 14, 2017 Art is a Portal
- Dec 1, 2017 Why the Tutu?
- Jan 5, 2018 Chaos' Playground: Finding Gold in the Shitstorm
- Apr 3, 2018 Public Alchemy: Notes on Street Performance
- Apr 16, 2018 Questions for Limitations
- Jun 22, 2018 The Freedom and Fear of Being Yourself (Notes on Performance and Life)
- Jul 2, 2018 About the Folks Who Think You Stink (Notes on Performance and Life)
- Aug 23, 2018 Melting a Snowball of Misery
- Jun 21, 2019 White Peacocks, Constipation, and Emotional Liberation
- Aug 5, 2019 Celebrating Your Misery
- Dec 4, 2020 The Healing Voice: Wounds, Addiction, and Purgation
- May 18, 2023 Magick is a Sentient Entity: Using the Imagination to Co-Create with Magick
- Jun 21, 2023 Magick for Reshaping Life and Transmuting Trauma
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Tarot
- Aug 26, 2017 Tarot as a Tool for Reality Construction
- Feb 28, 2018 Today's Tarot: The World is in the Seed
- Jun 27, 2019 Today's Tarot: Snot, Beauty, and Tea for Pain
- Aug 12, 2019 Today's Tarot: The Moon of Self-Loathing
- Aug 13, 2019 Today's Tarot: The Golden Devils Inside You
- Aug 18, 2019 Today's Tarot: Shifting Pain by Surrendering to It
- Aug 25, 2019 TAROT QUESTION #1: Why is the Present Moment So Much All the Time?
- Sep 3, 2019 TAROT QUESTION #2: Do abusers know they're being abusive, or is that just their sense of reality?
- Sep 25, 2019 TAROT QUESTION #3: Why can't I find more hours in a day?
- Oct 11, 2019 TAROT QUESTION #4: How long will it be until I have a new job?
- Oct 24, 2019 TAROT QUESTION #5: Why does my skin crawl with wonder and fascination as such important relationships in my life are connected by the eyes?