Clover Morell is a Chicago-based artist and curator whose work has included video, performance art, movement, and intermedia. Recently I spoke with Morell about her artistic influences, her video performance during The Gastronomic Odyssey: A Synesthetic Dinner Party, her collaboration with Julie Laffin during Site Unseen 2009, and her ongoing projects. 

DG: How did you first get interested in making art?

CM: I’ve always made art, but I didn’t get interested in making a career out of it until I was an adolescent. It was the only discipline I was encouraged to pursue, so I thought that it was my only chance at being successful for a long time.

DG: Who are some of your influences?

CM: Julie Laffin has been an extraordinary influence on my life and career as an artist, as have Jenny Magnus and Judith Harding. I have also been greatly influenced by the work of Tania Bruguera, Marina Abromovic, Robert Wilson, Forced Entertainment, Pina Bausch, La Socìetas Raffaello Sanzio, Goat Island, Sophie Calle, Miranda July, Patty Chang, and the list could go on.

DG: Several years ago I saw a film about Goat Island which documented how they developed one of their pieces. What do you like about Goat Island?

CM: I think the process that they use to make their pieces is an amazing model for group work. It would be a dream to be involved in a group that’s built with the same structure, honoring all of its members in a truly equal way. The work that comes out of the process is so interesting – meditative, humorous, fragmented, surprising, beautiful. It’s referential of history, literature, pop culture…. and it’s truly interdisciplinary, walking the line between performance art, dance and theatre.

DG: What is an early memory you have of making art?

CM: I can recall being Cinderella in Kindergarten and being really upset about the part in the play when the Prince put the shoe on my foot. This was followed by an appearance as the Virgin Mary in first grade. When I told the nun that I really wanted to play Jesus, she was very unhappy and I was scolded. As a child, I was always dancing and singing. I also obsessively drew clowns.

DG: How did you first get interested in performance art and interdisciplinary arts?

CM: I can recall sparks of interest in performance art when I first began studying art history as a young art student in college, but it wasn’t until years later when one moment brought performance art to the forefront of my creative life. It was at the Art Institute in Chicago, the very first time I saw Clown Torture, the video installation by Bruce Nauman (made in1985).

DG: What was your reaction to "Clown Torture"? 

CM: I walked into the installation and rapidly felt myself become anxious, disgusted, and angry. It was a complete full-body, visceral hijack. I’d never had a piece of art so dramatically affect my physical state of being. It took me about three minutes to exit the piece looking for meaning on the placard on the wall. When I read “Clown Torture,” I laughed deeply at the brilliance of the work. I went back to see that piece every chance I had for the next few years. My friends didn’t quite understand my embrace of discomfort or my need to drag them into it. Most people I know find that work intolerable.

DG: What were some of highlights of your experience getting your MA at Columbia? Who was one of the professors you studied with? 

CM: In one class, taught by Joan Dickinson, we had the chance to create a piece of performance for The Museum of Contemporary Art in response to the work of Jennifer Monson of Birdbrain Dance who was in residence at the MCA. We created a performance for several spaces throughout Chicago that were sites of endangered birds and the migration patterns that Jennifer Monson was following with her dances. Joan has a lot of and experience working in response to the land and environment and was able to guide us in the creation of a great piece of group work. She also asked us to write “Weather Reports” regularly – matching our experiences with the climate. The writings that came out of that project were deeply moving.

Working with Jenny Magnus was great too. She inspired risk taking – and really begged the question of what one person can bring to stage through simple movement, props and writing. We did a lot of experimentation in her class and that was great practice.

DG: What was the most challenging class that you took? 

CM: The most challenging class was “Connected Images” which was a one-week long course held at an all-boys school in La Porte, IN. We had to bring together all we’d learned in our Visual, Writing, Drama, Sound and Movement Classes into one installation/performance. Tania Bruguera joined us as a mentor that summer and brought fierce energy to the process. I recall going to her for advice on a piece Elizabeth Czekner and I were making together. She was intently scouring the NYTimes (as she apparently does everyday) when we asked her about some concerns we had for our safety at our site of performance. She lifted her pants to reveal a large burn scar on her calf – and stated that she’d received it during a performance and that she believes the danger is always worth the outcome. Elizabeth and I left in a bit of a shock, but it was a lesson I will never forget. She and Marina are very similar in the fierce, do or die, radical notion of what performance art can achieve politically.

Anyway, I could go on about the MA in Interdisciplinary Arts – it was a wonderful program with great professors (Sherri Antonini, Jeff Abell, Nana Shineflug) and I developed a strong sense of community in that program. I was able to work with amazing visiting artists like Marina Abromovic, Tania Bruguera and Haley Newman, and I was even chosen to travel to PSI #11 in Rhode Island.

However, that program does not have nearly enough resources for the cost. We had no access to media, studios or performance spaces. All of the classes were held in one of two crappy rooms and there was no sharing of resources between departments allowed. We had to provide all of our own supplies and equipment. That was a bit disheartening. 

DG: Did you take any classes taught by Jeff Abell? He does really interesting work. I talked to someone who told me they took a class from him, and at the end of the semester all of the students had to choose someone in art history, and they had to stay in character at a party for their grade. 

CM: Yes. I took that class. At Jeff’s suggestion, I was Hannah Wilke. It was a very awkward party, with everyone trying to stay in character – but it was a lot of fun, too. I haven’t actually seen Jeff Abell’s work except for a DVD he showed us once in class. Despite that, I admire him greatly as a teacher.

DG: What are some things that you like about the arts scene in Chicago?

CM: I have a lot of respect and admiration for the DIY culture in Chicago. There is always something vibrant happening in the most unheard of places. Right now, I am fascinated by all of the apartment galleries that are popping up across Chicago. I also feel like artists here are really involved in and devoted to the well being of their community.

DG: What are some of the spaces here that you like working in? What do you like about those spaces?

CM: I like spaces that are rich and emotional all on their own. So, I’ve worked a lot in the outdoors in non-traditional spaces such as alleyways, underpasses, abandoned buildings & factories. I once had the opportunity to work on a project in the Calumet region of Chicago, which is robust with nature and heavy in abandoned space and deteriorating structures. There’s a certain melancholy and beauty to the area that hangs in the air and speaks to the history. It is one of the most interesting spaces to this day that I’ve worked in – if you can call it a “space” – as it is really more like a region. Indoors, I love working at The Chicago Cultural Center. The architecture is simply stunning and the staff is so supportive.

DG: What would you say are some qualities of an artwork that you find particularly interesting?

CM: To me, a piece of work that is interesting doesn’t necessarily evoke love or “like”. I find the most interesting work catches me off-guard, gives me complicated reactionary feelings and becomes a source for dialogue, begging the questions ‘what is art’, ‘what does it mean to be human’ or ‘who am I’?. I respond to work that raises hair. Of course, I also like work that is subtle and beautiful. 

DG: Who are some other artists who you think are doing interesting work in Chicago?

CM: This is a hard question! There is so much more happening out there than I know of – I don’t get out nearly enough. Off the top of my head tho, I’d say Theaster Gates, every house has a door (Lin Hixson’s new post-Goat Island project), Industry of the Ordinary, Anida Yoeu Ali, Jenny Magnus, Beau O’Reilly, Catherine Sullivan, James Kinser, Jessi T. Walsh, Greg Stimac, Tif Bullard, Marissa Perel, Joseph Ravens, Alison Rhoades, Colin Self, Jessica Hannah, Elizabeth Czekner, Andy Rohr. I’m sure I’ve left some amazing, beautiful artists and people off of this list by accident. Apologies to those who should have been listed. 

DG: Would you describe one recent project by James Kinser that you find particularly interesting?

CM: James Kinser just completed a project with Niki Grangruth. They’ve created a series of images duplicating classical paintings via photography. The images are not only formally stunning but James’ presence in the work, embodying the roles previously held by women, is astounding. The pieces really speak to the idea of gender being a fluid, performative construct. His “feminine” qualities and the sheer beauty of his body as the focus of each piece are really powerful. 

DG: I think you and I met during a Field course which was taught by Judith Harding at Links Hall. How did you get involved with in The Field? 

CM: Just after I’d moved to Chicago, I began writing poetry and attending open poetry mics. Writing was very new to me, so I went to these events hoping to share my work and get some kind of feedback. It didn’t really work out that well; I was petrified of the stage. Up until that point, I had been a painter, isolated in the studio and the days of my stage-greedy childhood were long gone, so every time I got on stage, I was a hot mess. It was really embarrassing but I was determined, nonetheless. So, one day on my way to the Chicago Women’s Health Center in Links Hall, when I saw a flyer for The Field, I found an answer to my stage freight. The group was hugely supportive and the format was great for someone with so much fear. It was a really big stepping stone towards the world I find myself inhabiting today.

DG: You’ve collaborated with Dan Schwarzlose on a number of projects over the past several years. How did you and Dan start to collaborate? 

CM: Dan and I attended the Columbia College Chicago InterArts Master’s program together in 2003. During that time, he invited a handful of his peers to participate in an arts festival with his organization Elastic Arts. I quickly got involved as both a producer and an artist -- and continued to participate in Elastic Arts’ visual events for the next several years. 

DG: What do you like about working with Dan?

CM: I strongly support the mission of Elastic, and have always enjoyed working with Dan for his larger-than-life passion and enthusiasm, as well as the commitment and professionalism he brings to any project.

DG: Besides meeting Dan in the MA in Interdisciplinary Arts program at Columbia College, were there any other classmates of yours that you’ve been in touch with / collaborated with?

CM: Elizabeth Czekner and I have done several collaborative works together, the most recent a multimedia piece called My Echo is a Brick. commissioned by The Department of Cultural Affairs for Site Unseen 2007. I stay in touch with Cristal Sabbagh, as well. I just sat in on a rehearsal of hers for a new piece she’s created called Kluteny (It’s great!!!). Aimee Lee and I have collaborated from a distance, since she’s always on the road. Ania Grenier and I have been supporting each other’s work lately in our own curatorial projects. And I am always trying to keep up with what others from the program are doing even if we haven’t seen each other in awhile. I still feel connected to them! 

DG: Two years ago you were involved with "The Gastronomic Odyssey: A Synesthetic Dinner Party" that Dan Schwarzlose curated, which happened at MOTO, a restaurant in Chicago's West Loop neighborhood.How did you get involved with that project?

CM: That was an amazing, beautiful evening. Dan commissioned a handful of artists to present performance and media works honoring the 75th anniversary of The Futurist Movement. He gave us each a copy of The Futurist Cookbook, asked us to make a short art piece that we could show in conjunction with our course in a seven course meal. It was an opportunity to design a dish to be prepared by the esteemed chefs Homaru Cantu and Ben Roche of MOTO. Dan knew of my passion for working with food, and so he invited me to participate.

DG: What are some things that you find interesting about synesthesia?

CM: Synesthesia is a fascinating neurological condition and I see it as a good metaphor for the kind of heightened or altered perception that many artists have. Trying to imagine the synesthete’s experience is good fodder for creating new languages / art pieces.  

DG: How did you develop “The End or Je Mourrai, un Jour de Fete (I will die on a feast day)," the video performance that you contributed to "The Gastronomic Odyssey: A Synesthetic Dinner Party"? 

CM: I had the chance to travel to Venice while working on this piece, and during my travels, I came across the work of Valentine de Saint-Point (1875-1953), one of two female Futurists, a French dancer and poet most prominently known for her “Manifesto of Lust.”

DG: What do you find so intriguing about Valentine de Saint-Point's work?

CM: I found her voice fascinating because Futurism was about embracing the purity of Italian virility, the movement dominated by men who were basically saying: "Yes, war! The future is the Italian man with his steel machines, hard mathematical truths and science." Valentine offered the radical notion that virility was useful for both men and women, and that the key to our success would be for each human to embrace both their masculinity and femininity as well as their sexuality. She found a space for women in the movement and took an empowered stance, claiming lust to be the driving force behind her work.

DG: How did your video performance relate to de Saint-Point's work? 

CM: I created that video performance in response to her work, as well as my own thoughts about the future. I chose video because we’ve moved into the age of technology, which is absolutely our future. Also, I think strong possibilities include violence, illness, isolation, lack of access to real physical and spiritual nourishment.

DG: How did you decide to focus on the tomato in your video performance? 

CM: I chose the iconic Italian fruit, the “love apple” (a metaphorical heart), as a way to link the food on the table to the food in the video. For me, "eating my heart out" was very much about lust and aggression being enacted simultaneously.

DG: How did Homaru and Ben come up with a course that complemented “The End or Je Mourrai, un Jour de Fete (I will die on a feast day)," -- to integrate your video performance and the food into the evening's theme?  

CM: They redesigned the classic Caprese Salad with my requests to use the geometric forms of Futurism, Valentine’s colors (red, orange, blue and green) and I wanted it to explode as one would bite into it. The salad was a square of mozzarella injected with tomato sauce, garnished with frozen blueberries, a mandarin orange and a line of green pesto. Guests watched my video while eating this salad.

DG: What were some other aspects about that evening that you liked?

CM: The whole evening was inspired. The other artists had some very interesting interpretations of the future – I particularly enjoyed Anida Yoeu Ali and Cristal Sabbagh’s butoh inspired dance. And it’s not often (um, never) that I get the chance to sit down to a seven-course meal, so that was wonderful, too. I felt like royalty.

DG: How did you get involved with "Site Unseen"?

CM: I was commissioned to create a site-specific work for Site Unseen in its second year. I was included as an artist twice after that, and then invited to participate as Assistant Curator in 2009.

DG: How did you first start working with Julie Laffin? She does really interesting work.

CM: Julie hired me to assist her in her Photo Editing business. Then, several years after we began working together, she got an exhibition opportunity in Prague. She was unable to travel due to health reasons and hired me as a performer. After we began working together, she offered me a collaborative role in her piece and we’ve been collaborating ever since.

DG: Last year you and Julie Laffin collaborated on "Remote Intimations," which was part of last year's Site Unseen. Would you describe that project?

CM: Because Julie was unable to be physically present at the event as the curator, Claire Geall Sutton suggested we find a way to have a live feed with Julie so the audience could speak with her. Julie & I had already been playing with the idea of my body standing in for hers as a surrogate or a channel – and so we brought it to this piece as well, in which I became Julie’s voice. We projected Julie’s live image on the giant stage screen behind me. I sat at a table, stage left, across from an empty chair with a laptop and two microphones. Audience members could approach the chair, and speak to Julie through me, as I reiterated her every expression in as much detail as possible. At the same time, the conversation was amplified throughout the space to an audience. I was very happy that we created something interactive and simultaneously theatrical and intimate.

DG: Thanks for participating in the "Synesthetic Plan of Chicago." I really liked “Sensory City,” the project you contributed to SPC. How did you come up with that idea? How did you develop your project?

CM: Originally, I wanted to create a tour of the senses. I mapped a path through Millennium Park (a space that echoes the history of the Burnham Plan) of locations with strong sounds, smells, tastes, colors, textures that I was going to lead people through…and then realized that the space was so expansive and fluid. It would have been a 2-3 hour tour with lot of walking, and I couldn’t guarantee that the sites I selected would always evoke the same sensations. Plus I got all caught up in a variety of problems that I felt I couldn’t solve without more support, like sound amplification. I was stuck on the idea of there being some sort of interaction. So, I decided that the “map” would have to be created by the participants from their own comfort zone.

DG: Why did you decide that the map would be created that way?

CM: Because this would allow for the generation of material to be farther reaching than just Millennium Park. Also, during the time that I spent in Millennium Park trying to create my map, I became aware of how glamorous it feels in relationship to other locations in Chicago. I was sitting with a strong feeling of disconnect from this city that I’ve called my home for over ten years and a strong sense of wanderlust. I’d fallen out of love with the city and wanted to leave. With this awareness, I naturally became curious about what people “see” in our city, especially tourists. That’s when I decided to take my camera to the park and ask people about what sense associations they have with Chicago.

DG: How did you come up with the idea to use postcards in your project?

CM: I generated a postcard that I distributed throughout the city asking people to describe their locations through the senses and discuss their favorite place. Asking someone to experience all of their senses in a location at one time is like asking them to be fully present in a space and that excited me. I collected the postcards and my videos on a website that I named Synesthecity. I created a map from the submissions, too. The website is no longer active – but documentation can be found on my website. 

DG: What are some recollections / impressions you have of how your piece fit into the context of SPC as a whole? 

CM: SPC was the largest project I’ve ever contributed to, and because of that I felt disconnected to what the other artists were doing. Despite, the size was really impressive, the theme really engaging (I really enjoyed doing the research on Burnham), and it was really interesting to see how others responded to the project. 

DG: What other projects have you been working on lately?

CM: I just completed a few pieces – one using the event of the photograph as a performance – in which I invited audience members to take the stage with me and pose for a family portrait together. Again, I was interested in creating a space of intimacy with the public. Also, I was looking at the framing of relationships for what information can be perceived and contrived in an image (identity, power, etc.) and the natural performance of the pose. By trying to create a family out of strangers, I think I was also exploring my own sense of belonging and estrangement.

The other piece was for another dinner party -- only this time with the focus on appetizers. I was very excited to work with food again. I find it a fantastic sculptural medium to engage the senses and something we all have our own complex history with. The piece, Nurturance, included a sound piece that used fragmented, layered pieces of text about incomplete childhood memories of embodied experiences with fear, isolation and longing. While audience members listened to the piece they were invited to eat a small baby sculpture made of flavored ice. I used the flavors in accordance with the memories of my own childhood -- maple, marshmallow, vanilla, blackberry, etc. 

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