translated by Chen Yufeng \u9648\u715c\u5cf0<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cArtist\u201d is irreplaceable and useless. Under the rubric of artist we could write \u201csomeone who investigates things in a peculiar way\u201d or \u201casking questions without answers\u201d. It can include making things but has become as much about staging, happenstance, adaption, and a ludic quality centered not on the joke itself but its performance. This introduction to Ryan Gander is also useless. Where to begin even?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n We are sitting in Ryan\u2019s studio in Hoxton, just around the corner from an imposingly suburban Islamic Center. The studio is in a \u201clight-industrial zone\u201d under one of the arches of a railway line (irritatingly Flanagan & Allen\u2019s 1932 song pops into my head). I walked in at lunchtime, so first came a communal meal at and during which gluten-free pasta was dissected in detail. The round table stands in the corner of the room just near the entrance and is where Ryan usually works when not at his home in the countryside. In the middle of the room is a wide table and crammed around the walls are various artworks and crates in preparation for an upcoming exhibition. A team of 6 is hard at work. After the plates are cleared away the interview begins.<\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n Books<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n Chris Moore<\/strong>: I was going to grab one of your books to read on the plane, and then I realized that you only do really big books.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ryan Gander<\/strong>: I\u2019ve got lots of small ones as well!<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: The two I have are\u2014you know the two I\u2019ve got! I wasn\u2019t going to lug that back to London.<\/p>\n\n\n\n [We are looking at a bloody big book on the shelf near Ryan\u2019s head<\/em>]<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: It\u2019s funny because that\u2019s the new one\u2014\u201cCulturefield\u201d\u2014and it\u2019s the most like a catalogue. But all the others\u2014there\u2019s something very\u2026. Artists who are interesting artists, I think are always a bit averse to making catalogues. It\u2019s a sort of celebration of your own achievement, isn\u2019t it? When books can be works and you have the money to make a book, why would you make a catalogue? So I thought about all these books that I made that are works, you know collections of lectures and TV scripts, and collections of essays about objects, all these sort of readers and things like that. And then there comes a point where you are just sick of printing off pictures of your work. Because people want information. So I just gave in and made a big book that\u2019s a catalogue [says Ryan, laughing<\/em>], so these people know what I\u2019ve done!<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: It\u2019s helpful though. It makes a huge difference.<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: It\u2019s weird. Having it is really nice, and your mum\u2019s really proud when she\u2019s got one!<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: Well sometimes it also just helps to put things in context. I mean, you become an artist\u2014it was probably a slow process and\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: I don\u2019t know how you characterize \u201cidentify becoming an artist\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: Even describing you \u201cjust\u201d as an artist seems inadequate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: I don\u2019t really feel like an artist. I went through a period where I\u2019d never admit to being an artist because I thought it was pretentious to say that you were an artist, because it sort of suggested you\u2019d reached the point of your ability, which I never thought I was at. So I often said I was a teacher, because I was teaching art at the same time. And then when you stop teaching because you make your money from making art, then you\u2019re not really teaching anymore, so you can\u2019t really say you\u2019re a teacher. And then there\u2019s also that thing about\u2014it became really fashionable, didn\u2019t it, in the late nineties\u2013early noughties to become multi-disciplinary: you know\u2014\u201coh, the mobile studio, I don\u2019t need a studio\u2014empty studio practice\u2014I\u2019m based in Barcelona and work in London and New York and I don\u2019t have a studio because I have a mobile telephone and a Yellow Pages\u201d. So there\u2019s that, and that sort of goes hand-in-hand with the idea that you\u2019re not an artist: you\u2019re a multi-disciplinary cr\u00e9ateur<\/em> or something\u2014do you know what I mean?<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: Well the definition\u2019s not really important anyway. It\u2019s what you make of it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: Yes, the only thing that matters is whether it\u2019s interesting or not\u2014if it\u2019s design or writing or art, doesn\u2019t really matter what it is. The only thing that matters is that it\u2019s good, and it\u2019s interesting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: I didn\u2019t realize you had also done scripts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: Yes I\u2019ve done some different [things]\u2014I\u2019ve done a bit of everything really. There\u2019s not a lot I haven\u2019t done. I sat down actually last New Year\u2014not this one, the one before\u2014and tried to make a list of things that I wanted to do, like a bucket list\u2014things that I wanted to do before I die that I haven\u2019t done. And there weren\u2019t that many things. There\u2019s ceramics\u2014I did a bit of ceramics last year. I mean, that\u2019s what makes it an exciting job for me is that you can try everything. You can wake up and make clothes for a McDonalds drive-through attendant or you can design a dish for people who live in a specific tower block in East London\u2014dance, ballet\u2014everything\u2019s possible.<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: How does it work with different sorts of publics? Obviously the work that you make that ends up in an art fair somewhere isn\u2019t necessarily the same as public commissions or what you\u2019re doing in a context with students or in the sense of engaging with the public.<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: It\u2019s all sort of the same\u2014it\u2019s the same question as how you define success, isn\u2019t it? Because if you\u2019re an artist that makes commercial work then your success is defined by sales and museum collections. I mean that\u2019s probably a generalized success marker for most of the art world, isn\u2019t it? Then, the trainers I made for Adidas, I would say, was one of my most successful works in another way, the way that it\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n Trainers<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: Trainers<\/em>?<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: I made some trainers for Adidas, two pairs of trainers that were released by them. They had titles on the tongues\u2026<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: It\u2019s very hard to keep across all your work!<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: Holly, do you have any pictures of trainers, please? Just to show<\/em>\u2026So it\u2019s a different marker of success; it\u2019s one for me that was true, not intervention but infiltration. \u201cInfiltration\u201d sounds a bit aggressive, but it infiltrated itself, it just fell into different economies and markets and different social stratas\u2026just different worlds of appreciation. So that worked really well. To see [the trainers] on social media, these people who got a pair and the number of people who\u2019ve \u201cliked\u201d it\u2026and it\u2019s an artwork but it\u2019s not an artwork working in the currencies of [the art world].<\/p>\n\n\n\n Holly (Ryan\u2019s assistant)<\/strong>: Those ones are called \u201cYo yo criticism\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n [We are looking at a pair of sparkling white sneakers that have had \u201cmud\u201d painted onto their soles and splashed up around the sides.<\/em>]<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: They\u2019re made with PVC and they\u2019re all hand-painted, so they\u2019re all different\u2026But it\u2019s that thing about [rave culture]. Because I\u2019m from the North West, where Rave culture came about. The Indie scene\u2014the Stone Roses, Happy Mondays\u2014everything\u2019s from that place: Wigan, Warrington, Chester, Liverpool, Manchester. So [Yo yo criticism] is based on the notion that kids would get their trainers and they would make sure they were completely white and perfect, and if you got a bit of mud on them, you\u2019d be really unhappy. And that transition now to the culture of going to festivals\u2014and in my opinion there\u2019s nothing more mainstream than going to a festival, is there? And getting mud on your wellies, or whatever\u2014it\u2019s kind of a marker or signifier of that range of your social activity. And then these<\/em> [pointing to a detail<\/em>] are shadows, hand-drawn, so when you look at them from one side you see pencil drawing shading.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u2026And from the other side you don\u2019t see anything, just the normal trainers. So, wherever you are the light is always in the same position. So yes, the mark of success is always moving, depending on what you\u2019re doing and, as you said, who the audience is, what the context is. It\u2019s that thing about design as well, you know when you are given a commission or you\u2019re restricted in some way or you make compromises, or do public commissions, or consultancy work, or things in public spaces, or things with a different audience, they\u2019re almost harder but more exciting.<\/p>\n\n\n\n An interesting problem<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n RG:<\/strong> Think of Bob Gill [influential U.S. graphic designer and co-founder of Pentagram design firm]. He said something like \u201cthe harder the problem the better the work\u201d or something. <\/em>[“Unless you can begin with an interesting problem, it is unlikely you will end up with an interesting solution.”<\/em>]<\/p>\n\n\n\n There\u2019s nothing easier than being an artist and making studio work for the art market, because your parameters are very slender, the rules of engagement are all set in stone. It\u2019s quite easy for someone who\u2019s very creative to be financially, commercially successful in the art world. Damien Hirst has done it, Jeff Koon\u2019s done it\u2014they\u2019re not amazing artists, they\u2019re just creative thinkers. It is creative thought, but if you\u2019re good with visual language and you understand the social dynamics of the art world, it\u2019s quite easy to make a lot of money. It doesn\u2019t necessarily make great work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: A lot of work just looks the same. There\u2019s a lot of repetition and there\u2019s also a lot of ignorance in the art world, because if you start delving down into things, you find the work that\u2019s being presented as new this year in London\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: Yes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: Well, you can find something extremely similar to it produced in the 70s in Los Angeles, for instance.<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: Yes, yes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>. So that\u2019s a matter of context as well.<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: That\u2019s because the rules of engagement are so finite, so narrow\u2014there\u2019s not a lot of space to move in the art world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: It\u2019s not just the art word\u2014it\u2019s the same problem facing novels, it\u2019s the same problems facing many who make music.<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: Some of my most unsuccessful works are the ones that\u2014commercially most unsuccessful\u2014well, there was a work that I did about 5 years ago called \u201cThe Sitting\u201d, where I wrote a book that you would fill in, and it was a series of questions, so a page would be perfumed and you were asked what it reminded you of, and you were asked to send me a bunch of flowers on page 47, and send me postcards at different moments in the book. And it took about 6 months to fill it in. It was a big, laborious thing to fill in, with different word association games and questions about the last dinner you cooked at your house and who was there and all these things, with the idea that it was a portrait that I would make of someone. So the book was the [portrait] \u201csitting\u201d and I was making a conceptual portrait of their persona perceived by me from reading the information in the book. So the sitting was the book, rather than me making a physical representation, which is just a stupid idea, because you could just look at the person anyway, why would you need something like that? It\u2019s totally illogical\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: Well, Warhol\u2019s socialite extravaganza? [\u201cEthel Scull 36 Times\u201d, 1963, MoMA collection]<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: I mean, painting\u2019s pretty illogical, when you think about it\u2026spreading oil on a bit of material\u2014that just doesn\u2019t make any sense at all, really. So every [portrait] that I make is called \u201ca portrait of blah blah blah\u201d, whoever the person is who\u2019s commissioned it, and they have six months to fill the book in. They give the book back; I read it and produce a work that is a portrait of them. And each work is different. One\u2019s a toilet roll that\u2019s doused in perfume that I\u2019ve had designed. Another work is twelve photographs of mirrors that are distributed around the person\u2019s house. Another one was a huge word-search vinyl on the wall in mirror image\u2014they were all massively different works.<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: In the sense of being successful or commercially successful?<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: Well, it\u2019s successful in so far as the only people that commission it are really kick-ass collectors who have loads of integrity and are really interesting. Because they have to contribute so much time to the process\u2014they make half the work, essentially. And you have to trust me so much, because there\u2019s so much personal information that\u2019s disclosed in the book. And they get the book back but I get to read it, so\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: God, I\u2019d say yes!<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: Well, a lot of collectors have someone to choose the work for them, don\u2019t they, because they don\u2019t have enough time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: \u2014it\u2019s laziness, a lot of it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: Yes, well, you know, it takes time to spend money as well. I think some people in the world have so much money they don\u2019t have enough time [to spend it]. Financially it wasn\u2019t successful because it\u2019s one of those projects that are like a loss-leader. Some things that I do that make money pay for the other things, for example the radio play I wanted to make but that no one would ever buy. Or the cocktail book\u2014artists\u2019 cocktails\u2014that I always wanted to do, cocktails invented by artists, which obviously doesn\u2019t make any money.<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: (Laughs) It doesn\u2019t make any sense, but it\u2019s great.<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: Right! I always wanted to see it exist. So some things pay for other things, financially. \u2014\u201cThe Sitting\u201d? Well, just with the amount of labor in these portraits, I probably lose about 15 grand every time I do one.<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: Jesus\u2026.<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: But they\u2019re great to do. Really challenging. You know, the point isn\u2019t to make loads of money and be as famous as possible, but to make some shit and make some mistakes and throw stuff out and learn. I\u2019m an exercise artist, in a way, or maybe I think of myself as an exercise artist. Everything\u2019s an investigation, because you don\u2019t know how it\u2019s going to work out. I organized a writing syndicate ten years ago to make a novel and that led me on to different ways of using economics to make art. So a similar idea that I\u2019ve had [and] I\u2019m still processing, is to do [subscription shopping for art]. You know there is a service popularly known as subscription shopping? \u2014Because people have advisers for everything?<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: Yes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: And they have become quite successful; you can get a beer subscription or an Indian cooking recipe ingredients subscription: you pay a fee and they send you stuff every month. I thought about how art would work by subscription, because that\u2019s the same as having an art adviser, in a way. And would it be to offer at auction a contract to receive 12 works over 24 months, say, to the estimated value of the sale, and then they get what they\u2019re given?<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: That would be tricky\u2014how would you work out the valuation?<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: Well, just based on all the other work I guess, individually\u2014that\u2019s just logical economics, I think\u2014but I like the idea because essentially you\u2019re not just getting a series of art works; you\u2019re getting a collection that\u2019s made by the artist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Being a magician<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: A lot of what I\u2019ve been doing over the last maybe 5 or 6 years is to make loads<\/em> of works\u2014a lot<\/em> of work. I mean, you know how everyone\u2019s against flooding the market with work? You have to make the same thing, your stylistic signature, and you can only make seven a year\u2014that\u2019s how you make the most money. I\u2019ve been making [lots of work, including] four or five big works a year for half a decade, with the idea\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: Which is good, isn\u2019t it?<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: I enjoy making work\u2014that\u2019s one reason\u2014but the other reason is, I\u2019ve always liked the idea that I could self-curate things, where there are enough works and components I could use as a sort of toolkit or as a \u201cpalette\u201d. Because you make the art, and then you can make exhibitions, and then you can [curate it]\u2014and your practice has these three tiers, and then they get bigger. And you [gather up] a substantial amount of work varying in medium, size, content, and articulation, enough to be able to make a decent exhibition. Otherwise you end up with a show of paintings that are all 2 meters square, with a lot of burnt sienna on them or whatever, and it\u2019s not an interesting exhibition.<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: Well you also make very small, subtle works. One of the ones I like is at the Hamburger Bahnhof in Berlin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: Oh yes, the wheel\u2026fallen off, yes. [\u201cThe Artwork Nobody Knows\u201d, 2011]<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: It\u2019s a pity that it has to be on a pedestal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: Yes I know, it should just be on the floor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: Exactly. But when you walk in to Hamburger Bahnhof and its\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: \u2014I\u2019ve not seen it there. I\u2019ve seen loads of pictures of it there, and everyone says how good it looks. Perhaps that\u2019s a weird work, that you thought that of, because I like it the least of all the works I\u2019ve made. I didn\u2019t see it happening but everyone actually relates it to disability. I have a massive aversion to making art that\u2019s related to disability because (a) it\u2019s not interesting to make work about \u201cself\u201d in that way, and (b) other artists that make work about \u201cself\u201d in that way, their identity, I\u2019m heavily critical of, because it\u2019s quite egocentric and uninteresting. I make work because I\u2019m interested in visual language and I\u2019m interested in becoming so eloquent at it, controlling every idiosyncrasy and intonation of the voice and everything<\/em>\u2014being a poet with visual language\u2014being able to go into a situation with no tools or materials and think your way, using everything you know about visual language, into a really creative reaction to that situation. I mean that\u2019s magical, isn\u2019t it? It\u2019s like being a magician.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n A breeze on the back of the neck<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: Well, that brings up your Documenta work. Because you\u2019ve appropriated nothing\u2014did you make the breeze? I don\u2019t even want to know the real answer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: Yes, yes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: Whether you did or you didn\u2019t. [Laughs<\/em>]<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: A lot of people say the same\u2014a lot of people ask if I just opened the window, but it cost over 200,000 pounds to make it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: Seriously?!<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: The production? Yes, there were two rooms built at the back of the museum. There were turbines and they were sound proofed, and then the air supply was tubed [connected] to the windows, and the windows were soundproofed. Then all the air-conditioning ducts had to be blocked, and all the cracks. Essentially it\u2019s a vacuum and if you had any leaks, you lose a lot of [air] pressure. I worked with the university in Bonn on it for 3 years. They do studies for shopping centers to determine where smoke would go if there is a fire and aerodynamics tests for Boeing [airplanes]. So it was a hard thing to create, really hard. I get calls all the time from some collectors saying \u201cwe\u2019d really like the wind piece\u201d. Well, if you\u2019ve got three years and a quarter of a million pounds, then\u2026It\u2019s funny because some people say \u201cYou turned the air conditioning on\u2026\u201d [wincing groan<\/em>]<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: Well, the brilliant thing about it is the total confusion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: Yes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: It was impossible to know whether the breeze was being created or whether you were just saying it\u2019s coming through the door. That was the lovely thing\u2014you couldn\u2019t pick it up, you couldn\u2019t see it. Some visitors weren\u2019t sure it was there at all. Others picked up an association about the breeze on the back of the neck with the [French revolution\u2019s] guillotine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: I wonder how it would function in a lesser context, because the context of Documenta, and the Fridericianum\u2014the ground floor is [so particular]. The New York Tines<\/em> said that it was the most expensive real estate in the art world. And it is\u2014and I was given the whole ground floor, which is unheard of. Every Documenta there\u2019s been arguments\u2014if you look through the history books\u2014 arguments between Beuys and different artists, about who\u2019s going to show there. It\u2019s almost the Greco-Roman mentality where it wants to be the first food when you walk in or something. So the breeze worked better because of all that, and the wall, and the importance of that space. The Fridericianum hall\u2019s atmosphere is so charged that you don\u2019t really have to do much to make a work that is phenomenal in that space. Seems as if everyone else who\u2019d used that space at Documenta before had actually diverted everyone\u2019s attention from the brilliant thing that was already there. They just camouflaged something that was there, instead of highlighting it, which seemed\u2026ironic, really. It\u2019s just about self, rather than what was already there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: Yes, well\u2014\u201cLook at me!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: And in a weird twist of fate, my work became about self, because everyone wanted it [laughs<\/em>]\u2014it did the same thing but in a weird\u2026unknowing way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n CM<\/strong>: But that will also dissipate over time. And then in the end, it will just be the breeze, and that\u2019s lovely.<\/p>\n\n\n\n RG<\/strong>: It\u2019s nice to have made a masterwork or genius piece because I\u2019ve never\u2026I don\u2019t really go in for making \u201cgenius pieces\u201d. It\u2019s funny that one happened without me trying. It\u2019s nice though, isn\u2019t it? It\u2019s a thing to do in your life, to say that I made that work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.randian-online.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/09\/Ryan-Gander.jpg\")
Lackfarbe, 140 x 140 x 15 cm (plinth), 15 x 7 x 5 cm (figur), 2011.Courtesy: Stiftung des Vereins der Freunde der Nationalgalerie f\u00fcr zeitgen\u00f6ssische Kunst. Photo: \u00a9 Ken Adlard<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n