As an artistically inclined teenager feeling bored and marooned in the suburbs of Minnesota, Mel Nguyen did what any millennial in her situation would do: She turned to the internet for creative stimulation. “Even as a high schooler I was looking at all these graphic design blogs, seeing how the field was changing, and thinking, wow,” she says. As soon as she enrolled as an art student at the Minneapolis College of Art and Design, she started her own tumblr, showing off her experiments sliding from 2-D into to 3-D and back again. She managed to build such a following on the site that her work went viral in certain online art and design circles — so much so that it’s hard to believe she’s only 21, and won’t graduate until this spring.
It’s not at all hard to believe, on the other hand, that she found success on tumblr, of all places: Her work shares not only the site’s aesthetic but its stream-of-consciousness approach. “My practice has a lot to do with chain reactions and triggers,” Nguyen explains. “I’m triggered by materials or imagery, and then once I’ve done something, I find what interests me about it and move on to explore that. It’s a series of connected experiments: If A leads to B, then what about this other thing?” The same formula applies to her physical process as well. For a recent project, which dealt with the idea of objects whose forms imply a function they don’t necessarily possess, she began by making small, vague items resembling material tests, then photographed them, then made printed cutouts of them, which she integrated into another piece.
That project also explored her current fascination with prototypes, models, and retail display tactics, which can manifest in her installations as elements that look unfinished or fake, or that are hung from department store–style grid walls, even when they don’t resemble anything that would typically be for sale. “I’m interested in the line between a prototype and a completed product, and in the backend of production and staging,” Nguyen says. “Everything I make is trying to explore the structural possibilities between art and design, trying to find my way between them.” We sent photographer Debbie Carlos to her Minneapolis studio to take a closer look.
“My first year in school, I realized that I had more fun experimenting between mediums, and trying to subvert each one,” says the 21-year-old. “I already had an interest in graphic design in high school, and then I started making 3-D work with the facilities at MCAD, which combined with photography, has led to my current work.”
A panel of Plexiglas Nguyen painted and used as a backdrop for a clay composition. “The clay pieces are experiments in form,” she explains. “I’m interested in how they naturally create this bacterial imagery. The forms and colors merge into each other, and then I cut them apart again. It’s something I do as a quick exercise between projects. It turns into a photo, I reuse the clay, and nothing exists after the photo.”
“I always start with materials,” she adds. “Some are found manufactured forms like metal racks, and I also use a lot of particle board, for an internal-structure vibe. I collect a lot of marble swatches and carpet swatches too.”
The small white ramp on the floor is one of Nguyen’s recent series of objects that imply a certain function, but don’t actually have one. To the left is a folded sheet that she spraypainted objects on and plans to reuse in another piece. “I save everything I use, because sometimes it turns into another project,” she says. “I’m always using the remnants of one thing to create another thing. Nothing’s ever done.”
Another part from the same project.
Marble swatches, acrylic swatches, and scraps. “I use the swatches in installations, and sometimes I’ll scan them for patterns, backgrounds, and textures I can manipulate visually,” Nguyen says.
Wall molding samples she’s cut and painted. Plus more material swatches “for your kitchen or whatever,” she says. “Weird outdated plastic laminates.”
A close-up of the laminate swatches. “I love the abstract shapes they form,” she says.
Nguyen created this thin wood frame on the wall as an experimental display tactic, the seed of an idea for a photo background containing a drilled-and-pencilled grid meant to track scale changes across a series of images.
One of the non-functional pyramid models under Nguyen’s desk, which is coated in primer. “I’ve been using primer a lot lately because I’m interested in something being primed for the next step, and yet it doesn’t go there,” she says. “We project onto it the next step, or how it might be part of something bigger.”
Her sketchbook, whose cover she painted. “It was this ugly notebook but I wanted to use the gridded pages,” she says.
Evidence of Nguyen’s penchant for painting, spraypainting, and sawing wood (ouch). When constructing her 3-D forms se doesn’t use any fancy techniques, just basic cutting and basic math.
A series of small sculptures from an installation that became a series of photographs. Nguyen considers them “still in the prototype stage.”
More from the same series, including some fake rocks she made from spraypainted metal. Nguyen says she’s especially interested in wedges as a metaphor, “how they can stop something moving or go underneath something.”
The prototype aspect of these panels lies in the fact that none of them are permanently connected to each other or attached to the wall. Nguyen photographs them, rearranges them, then photographs them again. They also capture her interest in set design and display. “They’re almost like a tiny stage,” she says. “It’s about the fakeness, the presentation, the mockup.”
These shapey objects are also easily disassembled and reassembled into something new. Nguyen sees parallels between Bochner’s work and her interest in unfinished pieces. Her other influences include Wolfgang Weingart, the Bauhaus, Nicole Killian, Travis Stearns, and Memphis design.
Nguyen incorporates many found objects into her work, like this tiny foam soccer ball she spraypainted and placed atop a stack of spraypainted furniture-leg cushions.
This sculpture was inspired by the form of a podium, and like most of Nguyen’s objects, it’s hollow and open in back, so there’s a “frontal staging thing going on.”
Nguyen isn’t yet sure what she’d like to do after she graduates, but she knows she’s ready to leave Minneapolis. “It feels really isolated, smack dab in the middle of the US,” she says. “Not too many things happen here. It’s really just a starting point for me.”
In 2007, San Francisco native Zoe Alexander Fisher was 16 and designing an eponymous line of girly cocktail dresses that sold in local boutiques and landed her in the pages of Nylon and Teen Vogue. A mere six years later, the entrepreneurial 22-year-old has today unveiled her latest project, the so-called Handjob Gallery//Store, and it couldn't possibly be more disparate: It's an online shop stocked with the kinds of weird and wacky handmade curios infinitely more likely to baffle the general public than to send it stampeding towards Saks.
When we first got wind of the new Scandances by Prince Ruth textile collection for Urban Outfitters, we had two questions: Who is Prince Ruth? And what the heck is a scandance? The latter question, we found, was easy to answer: It’s that jittery, seismograph-through-the-lens-of-an-acid-trip effect you get when you manipulate an image while it’s in the process of being scanned. As for the former, we assumed that Prince Ruth was some under-the-radar designer we somehow weren’t cool enough to have noticed. And in a way, that’s exactly what it is: Prince Ruth is the name of a Brooklyn-based surface design studio run by Zoe Latta, a 24-year-old textile artist and RISD grad whose work is more famous than her pseudonym would suggest.
Certain people, whenever they mention an artist or a designer or an exhibition you've never heard of, make your ears automatically prick up — some might call them tastemakers, we suppose, though that word sounds too jargony to our ears. Regardless, we here at Sight Unseen like to believe that maybe, just maybe, we fulfill that type of role for even just a few of our more devoted followers — and of course we have our own hallowed sources of information, like Kristin Dickson of Iko Iko and Patrick Parrish of Mondo Cane/Mondo Blogo, both of whom have a knack for sending us into a flurry of OMGs. When Parrish announced he was mounting a fall show of art by Eric Timothy Carlson, whose name we only barely recognized from a collaboration with our friends at ROLU, our first thought was, "We need to interview this man!" Our second was, "But we know nothing about him," and so in the spirit of discovery, we devised a series of top-five lists by which Carlson might introduce himself and his Memphis-inflected work to both us and our readers. Check out his incredibly detailed responses here, then rush over to see Building Something: Tearing it Down at Mondo before it closes this Wednesday.
