Susanna Koetter
Susanna Koetter is an artist from Boston, MA. Their practice incorporates processes of printmaking, fabric dyeing, writing, and trash collecting to make paintings and other flat works. Being both dimensional and functional, the candles included in Eternal Flame reflect an aberrant facet of their practice that is not yet (and perhaps will never be) fully placed. Susanna attended Yale University for undergrad, where she studied painting, and received her MFA from Columbia in Printmaking. Susanna currently lives, works, and teaches in Providence, RI.
Can you tell us a bit about the process of making your work?
The candles developed as a way to bide time. They are tapered candles, so they are made by repeatedly dipping a candlewick in hot wax, making sure to cool each layer in between so the wax can accumulate. As a practice, it’s not really something I centrally focus on when I walk in the studio—I turn on the wax, which takes awhile to melt, and then once I begin dipping candles I very quickly have to wait again for the wax is cool. This is especially true of the more elaborately-shaped candles, which require a thorough dip in hot wax to ensure maximum pliability, after which I quickly to shape the wick while it’s still “young.” Then I wait until it’s cool, dipping again, part by part, so the entire shape doesn’t flop. Once the body of the taper becomes thick enough, you can begin to dip the candle entirely, but it’s important to chill in between each layer. Making the candles function as a kind of metronome much like hitting the tea kettle and waiting for it to boil; a habitual opportunity for distraction, or a way to break up time.
What are you working on at the moment?
Well, right right now, I have been planning for the Painting I course that I will be teaching this semester at Providence College. It’s my first teaching job and it’s also taught remotely, so it’s definitely been an interesting process of figuring out that modality, while also reflecting on the pedagogies of all of the teachers that have brought me to this juncture. It’s been a trip to think about, and I feel enormously indebted.
I’m also working on a series of textile pieces for Asif Mian, an artist and friend who has a show coming up at the Queens Museum this Spring. That has been a wonderful collaborative process to align my technical knowledge with his vision, and to have an opportunity to be supported and encouraged to work with materials I would otherwise never deal with. Most of my textile work up until this point has involved resist dyeing and color removal, but in working on this project, I’ve also been experimenting with processes like devoré, or fabric burnout, on entirely new materials like satin, silk, and velvet. I really love that process of experimentation, and the wonder that whittles into something more specific as you learn a new technique.
Aside from that, I’ve been making small panel paintings of this water glass that sits on my windowsill, half-filled. It’s been a meditative practice back into painting, which I haven’t really done in a regular way for a few years. I’ve developed a deep love for gessoing, which used feel like a chore, but now I feel just down to be super thorough. Some of them have up to 10, 11 layers. I can’t tell if it’s a form of deferral, but it feels related to the patience required of copper plate etching.
We love your candles! They remind us of your work on various Princess Diana memorial inspired pieces. Can you talk about the relationship between memorialization and your practice?
Well, besides biding time, the candles really began in Well, besides biding time, the candles really began in response to the death of a close friend’s father, which had happened less than a year after my own father passed in the Summer of 2017. The only thing I could think to give her was healing balm, which required beeswax to make, and then from there I got the idea to make candles as well. After that, I started compulsively making them and burning them, keeping a candle lit every time I was in the studio. I started tying the bottoms of the wicks to pennies as a way to index candle further according to a year, and because pennies were like the only unit of money people treated as something without value. In burning them I felt less alone, kept company by the spirit of remembrance, each twisted candle an opportunity for a time to pass differently, downwards and sideways, as grief often goes. Each candle then becomes a question of “how exactly will it go?,” which, in answering, is a surrender to its demise.
What are some references you draw upon in your work? Are there any themes in particular that you like to focus on when creating?
While I’m actually making stuff, I try not to focus on anything, at least not conceptually or thematically. Sometimes I don’t even know what the idea of something is until it’s done, or until I turn away from it for awhile and turn back again. But as far as references go, I’d say most of my work is begins with the appropriation of images, signs, and materials that don’t have an explicit author, but belong more in a collective psyche as terms marked by an inherent ambivalence: country, race, sex, body; the way that flags both indicate where you are, and and also designate the distance to be read far away. So, for example, definitely Princess Diana and the ambivalent relationship she has with the imperial hegemony she represented. But also, I think about idioms (glass half-full/half-empty), plastic thank you bags, beautiful trash, and the American flag—which, depending on your definitions, might just be the most accessible painting in around.
Where are some of your favorite spaces that support contemporary art or design? Now that the art has an online presence has that changed?
To be honest, I feel like I became deeply withdrawn from using social media and the internet, which, in the pandemic, has taken the place of human interaction. I think as far as spaces go, I have to start with AS220, the arts organization in Providence where I have a studio, and which provides subsidized housing to dozens of artists. Non-physically, it’s been really awesome to see how a move to virtual platforms has made it possible for artists to show together, even at a distance. This Summer, I went to Mother Gallery in Beacon, New York, a space run by Paola Oxoa, to see my friend Chie Fueki’s show called “Mother Altar.” That was a really transcendent and beautiful show that was made up, mostly, of other people’s contributions. I do feel like one thing that has shifted since the pandemic, and the shift to online shows, is that there is a different kind of spirit of sharing and collaboration, a kind of spirit that is reflected here, as well.
Do you have any shows coming up? Anything else you would like to share
Nothing at the moment. I’m working on small paintings of glasses, and continuing to make flags, two bodies of work I’d be down to show at some point. I’m currently proposing some show ideas, but am superstitious about elaborating upon hypotheticals. Other than “nothing,” I’m teaching painting this semester, which I’m really excited about!
Right now, I am working on nailing down my schedule and syllabus for the Painting I course I’m teaching this semester at Providence College. Sh*t is no joke, especially during a pandemic! The experience has definitely provided a whole new level of respect for educators, and I feel an enormous amount of gratitude for all of the labor that goes into teaching that I so often overlooked as a student. So, planning, and also reflecting on personal pedagogy, and my own experience as a student and as a teacher.
Susanna Koetter’s work is included in our show “Eternal Flame,” Jan. 1st – Feb. 28th. Visit their website or Instagram (@team__jolie) to see more of their work.