Artist Interview: Heather Cox
Conversations with materials, growing gills, transformative sisterhood, and a studio chaise lounge...
“In my art practice, I listen to objects and tune them in relationship to one another. Over the years I’ve developed a new set of ears; perhaps something more akin to gills, a new sense organ that allows me to filter & feed & listen.” -Heather Cox
I am so pleased to share this month’s interview with artist Heather Cox. You know that feeling, when you see an artwork that feels so absolutely new that your mind can’t immediately categorize it, and you get to have a pure and direct encounter with it? I remember seeing Heather’s work for the first time and having this experience; I’m pretty sure I could feel new brain synapses forming in that clear bell of a moment. Heather had sewn thousands of colorful candy sprinkles into clear plastic forming the shape of a skeleton ribcage that could fit in the palm of your hand. I was hooked. Over the years, her work has spoken to me in this wordless, experiential way, again and again. Here, she shares the contours of her practice and work.
First, tell us about your work: What do you make? What does it look/feel/sound like and/or how does it function? What are the main ideas and themes that you work with?
I make precisely crafted objects out of a plethora of materials. I have never been drawn to paint or pencils but give me a stack of old photographs, a box of buttons, and a needle and thread and crazy things start to happen.
I gravitate towards ubiquitous tools and everyday materials. At times my pieces can overwhelm, at other times they are almost invisible. In the past I’ve sewn candy sprinkles into plastic bags. I’ve carved thousands of tiny chairs out of pink erasers. I’ve made life-size cookie cutters. I’ve mounted photos on the heads of pins. I’ve made wedding cakes out of aspirin. I’ve created cascades of fingernail clippers. I’ve made skeletons out of dollar bills. I’ve folded hundreds of paper crabs. I’ve covered wheelchairs with frosting. I’ve made boxes & books & bows out of photographs.
My projects are often quirky and seductive. They are often characterized by precisely crafted objects that involve repetition and shifting scale. At times they reference the body, other times they create worlds that play with discovery and metamorphosis.
What are the questions at the core of your practice?
In my art practice I listen to objects and tune them in relation to each other. Over the years I’ve developed a new set of ears; perhaps something more akin to gills, a new sense organ that allows me to filter & feed & listen. My most recent artist book “So…” was created in conversation with a paper-punch, and surprisingly that small circle continues to influence my projects to this day.
I find that my job as an artist entails choosing what to listen to and how to take action. I work in a fairly controlled studio environment. Everything has its place otherwise I can’t hear how the materials speak to me, nor to each other. In the cacophony of New York City (and my own thoughts), it takes discipline to choose what to engage and what to ignore. I’m always fine-tuning the process of searching for new materials and refining my capacity to hear.
Tuning is a type of calibration, and correct calibration depends on the right tools. “So…” was as much a product of learning to use a digital embroidery machine as it was of the fabric-based materials. Certain tools have talked to me for decades. For years I worked exclusively with an X-Acto knife. I was astonished at its precision, the beauty of its line, and the sensation of it in my hand. It was far more important than a pencil. I continue to work with one today (although my newest crush is a stapler).
Sometimes materials that once spoke to me stop talking altogether or start repeating themselves and boredom sets in. While unsettling, this is a natural part of the cycle of my practice. I try to meet it with patience and trust. One of my trusted tenets is that “I have what I need.” I just need to stay open & curious & listen for that small, quiet voice.
How and when did you know you were an artist, and were there any events or people that influenced that knowing?
I’ve always “made things” but the idea of actually stepping out and calling myself an artist came slowly. It wasn’t until college when I took an art history class about the 1970’s feminist women’s art movement that I heard the call. Women artists were speaking out and emphasizing the need for young women artists to step up and share their voices. They were saying “we need you” and I was a bit shocked to realize that they were talking to me. It took several more years for this to sink in, but that act of self-defining as an artist was a radical, transformative experience. The ultimate act of creation. An opening of my eyes and ears (and gills!). A sisterhood that continues to confound & enrich & bring me into relationship.
How about your typical work day or week? What is your work cadence like and why? What habits and routines have you developed to support your practice?
My typical work week consists of 3 days at my paid gig and the rest of my time in my studio. I am fortunate to work part time at the Whitney Museum of American Art, coordinating the Conservation Department. Over the years it has provided a continuity and community that at times were sorely lacking in my studio practice. I derive a great deal of satisfaction stewarding the Whitney’s collection. It also provides a solid bookend to my week, allowing me to have something to push up against when it comes to structuring my studio time. Ultimately it forces me to work more efficiently in both realms.
As for studio habits and routines, at the end of the day ideally I try to leave one or two little ideas that I can easily pick up the next time I arrive at the studio. While not always feasible, I do find it extraordinarily helpful when I do manage to pull it off. Things I need to be aware of is my use of lists, which can be alternately helpful or used as a cudgel. Also I need to be particularly careful about my sound world. I can so easily get sucked into NPR, hypnotized really. I’ve learned to limit consumption and use it as a treat.
We all get “stuck” in our practices sometimes, whether it’s the work that has us stumped, or fear, resistance, imposter syndrome or other issues bubbling up... what are your primary issues, and what do you do to get “unstuck”?
Can I tell you about my chaise lounge? I bought it 26 years ago during my first artist residency and it has been my studio companion ever since. It folds up. It’s lightweight. It’s comfortable (without being too comfortable) and it’s perfect for napping. And napping is my superpower. While it might not be the thing that gets me unstuck, it is something that creates transition, a dream space, and clears my head. Lord knows I’ve been in creative droughts and dragging myself to the silent studio can be excruciating. So part of the agreement I have with myself is even if I go to the studio and take a nap, that counts as showing up for my practice.
What are you working on right now? What feels exciting? (current work, future work, life events, upcoming shows, publications, residencies, teaching projects, classes, etc...anything you want to put out there )
During the pandemic lockdown I began making sculptures out of cut and stapled photographs, in what eventually became the series “Roundels”. I use donated analog snapshots that never make it into photo albums. The materials are simple, yet charged, and they speak to me in ways that are urgent and surprising. The final pieces balloon, stack, spill and twist. They exist both as collages and as three dimensional objects. I think of “Roundels” as a sequence of subtle rhythmic scores that transform the personal memories of my community.
If anyone has any old photographs you cannot bear to throw away and would like to donate to this project (any size, any vintage), I’d be happy to recycle them into art! Feel free to contact me on my website for further details:
https://www.coxart.com/
My book “So…” has been published by Stenen Press and can be found here: https://stenenpress.com/shop/books/blueprint/so/
A short video about this project can be found here:
Thank you Heather! I might be stealing your studio chaise lounge trick :)
That’s it for this week—hit the <3 below to show some love, and leave comments and questions in the below. Have a great week in the studio!
Yours in practice,
Really loved reading this! Will hold onto the idea of listening to objects and tune them in relation to one another - filter, feed, listen!