VIDYA GASTALDON

by Renata Espinosa

To view a work of art by Geneva-based artist Vidya Gastaldon is to view the artist’s pondering of the universe and the nature of consciousness. The potential heaviness of such a densely spiritual exploration is counterbalanced by Gastaldon’s familiar looking style, which borrows from psychedelic art and pop cultural imagery (cartoon character Spongebob Squarepants makes an appearance, for instance).

Her drawings, meandering meditations rendered on plain white backgrounds, consist of fantastical landscapes inhabited by smiley faces and nebulous cloud formations that look like prehistoric protozoa and function as maps for higher levels of consciousness. Gastaldon’s soft sculptures, crafted from wool or recycled textiles, are extensions of her drawings. She makes mountains constructed from showering strands of yarn, fashions hollow woolen rocks, knits a forest floor full of soft, nubby mushrooms or constructs fuzzy and friendly shamans or deities. Her work is at once humorous and transcendent.

This year will be a busy one for Gastaldon, as she prepares for three solo shows in September: Salon 94 in New York and two in London, one at Alexandre Pollazzon and one at the Walsall Museum, consisting of many new drawings and sculptures: Mini medieval illuminations of naked Christ figures, huge black “chaos-creatures” and “shaman-chaos gods.” She’ll also take part in group shows this spring in Geneva and Paris and travel to Morocco with a group of artists to work on a show for the Stedelijk Museum in Ghent this October.

Here, Gastaldon talks about her relationship to all things spiritual, her non-dualistic, unified approach to art and how the inside of a gum wrapper once revealed a metaphor for consciousness expansion.

Renata Espinosa: There’s definitely a strong sense of the transcendent in your art. What role does spirituality play for you?

Vidya Gastaldon: More than a role, it's a base, the very substance that feeds my work.

RE: In what way does it feed your work? Maybe you could tell me a little bit about your own history as an artist. Have issues of spirituality always informed your art work, or has it become more and more a focus?

VG: I don't want to talk too much about myself or my history. It would only confine what I am trying to bring about and make it incommunicable. Krishnamurti says of the creative act: “The inspiration must not be from the self. Beauty is total self-abandonment and with total absence of the self there is ‘that.’” This “that” is the most basic thing I possess and, by the same token, the thing I share most absolutely with others. This “that” is what I am trying to feel and get across.

RE: The creative act is meant to be a gift for the viewer – it’s not about you, as the creator, but the experience for others of what you’ve created. So I think it goes without saying that you consider yourself to be a spiritual person.

VG: I consider myself a mystic artist. My belief system, or my faith, is the main subject of my work. Now, if by “spiritual,” you mean “wise,” then the answer is no, although I'm trying hard.

RE: I was definitely thinking spiritual in terms of having a belief system or faith. I'm curious, if you don't mind talking about it, what that belief system is, or how you came to believe what you do now. Was it something that you were brought up to believe, or is it something you discovered for yourself later in life? Is it rooted in a particular tradition, like Hinduism?

VG: My childhood background is a mix between Western Protestantism and Eastern Raja Yoga. I started reading the Upanishads when I was 17. Then I tried different ecstasy techniques. I’ve also studied meditation and yoga, but I’ve been curious about all religions for years. Not as religions or dogmas, but as ways of experiencing the divine. I once read this sentence: “Religion is for people afraid of going to hell, spirituality is for people who have already been there.”

RE: That’s a really wise way of looking at the difference between religion and spirituality. I would tend to agree. Do you feel your art work invites a meditative response?

VG: Yes I do. I hope my work can create amazement and well being as well. I don't think it can really drive anyone to meditate, though.

RE: I imagine that for you, the process of creating the work is perhaps meditative. But I think that you could say that any act of viewing an artwork, if you are really examining and thinking about or feeling something from looking at the work, is in a sense meditative, though maybe not necessarily in a religious sense. Art really has that power to take you to a higher level of consciousness, and I see you examining that in your work, definitely. I think my most profound moments in life have stemmed from a particular experience with a work of art.

VG: Of course. At one point the viewer may receive this primary vibration.

RE: What are your thoughts on neo-hippie or neo-folk culture? Do you think its followers are yearning for something that doesn't exist in contemporary culture?

VG: Which contemporary culture are we talking about? The official commercial one or the vernacular one? There is definitely today a renewed interest in craft and non-ironic ways of making things.

RE: Yes, I'm thinking of the interest in craft, and non-ironic ways of doing things. Sincerity in art making. I just wonder, though, whether this "new sincerity" has been totally commodified by the art market and whether it loses some of the weight of the original intent. How do you negotiate that in your career, this question of art versus commerce, particularly with the case of your work, which has these deeper spiritual roots? Does it bother you, or do you just accept it as part of being able to do what you do?

VG: I'm making a bridge between those two concepts, trying to find non-duality here as well. To make a living from my work is such a surprise and I can't be thankful enough to those who permit it.

RE: Psychedelic art seems to lend itself to collaborative or communal efforts. Do you find that to be the case in your projects or work, or is it more of a personal journey or effort?

VG: I collaborated with another artist for seven years, and still do it from time to time. It’s really important for me to exchange viewpoints with other artist friends. I also surf the net a lot to meet all kinds of artists, including visionary ones. But at the end of the day, I prefer to be alone in front of a white page.

RE: What is it about the psychedelic aesthetic that you’re attracted to?

VG: It's a question of generation probably, since I had a psychedelic childhood. I must say that at this point, though, I see forms issued from altered states of consciousness as abstract representations, or rather, non-representations of a certain kind of knowledge that touches the divine (or whatever you want to call it).

RE: Would you generally characterize your work as mostly these kinds of abstract representations?

VG: It's a mix between the pop culture figures that I use as allegories and abstract representations.

RE: Your imagery is both apocalyptic and hopeful or happy. How would you explain this dichotomy?

VG: It's not a dichotomy. My approach is non-dualistic and I'm yearning for a greater unity. As such, both figures of beauty and horror are mixed and co-exist on the same level.

RE: Do the landscapes in your drawings refer to any specific time or place, or are they based on any places you've been?

VG: Landscapes are metaphors of levels of consciousness, like a map with high summits and flat desert. It's also the ideal place for visions to appear.

RE: Who are some of the creatures or characters who inhabit your landscapes?

VG: They are gods/goddesses/godthings! Allegories of...avatars of... creatures of...

RE: How about Spongebob Squarepants? It’s such a funny surprise to see him pop up in some of your more recent drawings. What does the character represent for you? It is interesting that in your version, he's not really a sponge at all, but mostly a brain, with just the shell of Spongebob's body identifying him as that character.

VG: Somebody got me his picture as a tattoo for kids, probably found in a bubble-gum wrapper. I've seen the series and I love it. His form and texture change so easily! In my drawing where he appears as a brain with no body, Spongebob looks like the perfect allegory of consciousness expansion. So I did almost nothing except reinforce this aspect of the character.

RE: Oh, that's great! He is a "found object" who so perfectly works as a metaphor for consciousness expansion. I love it when familiar characters are altered and recontextualized. You also do sculptures made from wool and yarn. How do you relate these to your drawings? Are they three dimensional renderings of objects that might inhabit those landscapes?

VG: Totally. But they are not as malleable as the drawings, which offer endless possibilities of representation. One more thing: They are sponges (again!) of vibratory emission, what we call “quantum wave,” which transmits through colors/forms/material a vibration that I wish to be positive.

RE: Does music play any role in your work?

VG: I'm a big fan of certain bands, like Acid Mothers Temple or Black Dice and many others. But I must say, I work more and more in total silence nowadays.

RE: I also wanted to ask you what you think of the term "New Age." Does it offend you? It does have a kind of stigma attached to it because it has become a catch phrase for a variety of spiritual practice, a kind of "anything goes" approach to spirituality. Or would you consider yourself to be part of the New Age movement? I suppose it's such a broad term and could mean just about anything, but would like to hear your gut reaction to it.

VG: The term New Age doesn't offend me at all. Minimal-psychedelism, healing-art, kraut-art, New-Age art, et cetera. None of it is exactly true, but that’s okay. After all, they’re just words to help our mind put an idea under control.