Aimee earned an MFA in Interdisciplinary Book and Paper Arts from Columbia College (Chicago) in 2006. Since that time her work has been exhibited at the Lux Arts Center, Museum of Contemporary Art (Chicago), Museum of Contemporary Photography (Chicago) and several other venues. Her work was displayed at the Bridge Art Fair in Chicago (2007).
Brian Sherwin: Aimee, you studied at Oberlin College and Columbia College. Can you tell our readers about your academic years? Did you have any influential instructors? Do you have any advice for students interested in those programs?
Aimee Lee: I've always been the kind of geek that adored school and being a student. That said, my undergraduate experience at Oberlin and my graduate experience at Columbia were universes apart. My time at Oberlin was an incredibly challenging, fulfilling, and high-growth period where I started to map the borders and territory of my own self. I explored the varied subjects and media that interested me, and had a major that let me combine music (I was a violinist), dance and choreography, philosophy, creative writing, art history, and studio art. My teachers inspired and nurtured me in a myriad of ways: advisor and art historian Pat Mathews, dance and bodywork instructors Karen Allgire and Deborah Vogel, violin and chamber music coach Andrew Jennings, visiting poetry instructor Myung Mi Kim, and painting professor Sarah Schuster are some of the many.
For prospective students of Oberlin, I would advise an open, wholehearted approach to an education that will be rigorous, well-rounded, and exhilarating. It offers extraordinary teachers and resources - take advantage of everything you possibly can because it holds a richness and humanity that is hard to find elsewhere. For Columbia, I would advise networking as much as possible, because the teachers are active, well-connected artists who have a real sense of the art world. They are also incredibly generous and open to artistic collaborations with students. As a large art school, it has resources that might not be immediately apparent. I have found allies in the galleries, the marketing team, and the portfolio center. For both, remember to follow your instincts and fight for what you need as a student, and stay close to your teachers, especially once you leave.
AL: My art has always been rooted in a long history of introspection and interpretation of personal experience. Because of my own personal ethics, I have been reluctant to appropriate other people's experiences and prefer to focus on my own, since I have full authority to allow that. I believe that getting down to specific details creates a universal context for other people, that the tiny pieces of my life have resonance with strangers, because the human experience is so similar in the small ways. In terms of subject matter, I am endlessly fascinated with the ways that people survive their lives and the nature of being human in this particular world. My incessant tunneling into my own mind must be a way to satisfy my curiosity about what is going on in other people's minds.
Five years ago, I decided to focus on human intimacy, which came out of my experience with a close childhood friend who was dying from cancer. During my studies in anatomy, bodywork, and spirituality, I had been moved by the power of human touch in the healing process. I asked my friend a month before she died about how often she was hugged during the day, since I knew that people were cautious around her because her bones were so fragile from her medication.
Regarding the physical manifestation of my artwork, I have consistently preferred beautiful and inviting surfaces. I love beauty, and you can interpret that however you like. Since I often handle difficult and sensitive subject matter, like abuse and violence against women, I create non-threatening surfaces to draw people in. I use a tactile approach where I make objects, installations, and performances that make people want reach out and touch. Eventually, through handling my work, the content reveals itself.
AL: I used to be committed to political work that was hot, very angry. But through my life experiences, I've come to see that such an approach doesn't fit my personality. People see me and don't expect a firebrand, so I've learned to play into that assumption, and shift the hot parts of my work below cooler layers. I think that the implications of my work are aligned with the old adage that tells us not to judge books by their covers.
BS: Aimee, you utilize a variety of mediums. Can you discuss why it is important for you to branch out in so many directions? Do you prefer one medium over the others? Or would you say that they are all of equal importance?
AL: I used to believe in a heavily conceptual practice, which came from a need to lay a strong intellectual foundation for myself as well as a fear of craft. But as I strengthened my ideas, I needed more tools to articulate them. And as I learned how to use each of them, new ideas arose. Like language, being open to constantly expanding my vocabulary is crucial to the vitality and utility of my work. I've always feared the "dilettante" and "dabbler" labels, but have embraced the idea of being resourceful, of being a bricoleur - creating something by gleaning from whatever happens to be around me in the moment. If I have __(fill in the blank)__ inclinations and talents, why not use them when appropriate?
I also think that learning new ways of articulating my work helps me meet and understand more people. For example, growing up as an aspiring musician, I surrounded myself with musicians. Within that set, I knew the most about violinists since I was one myself. Expanding outward, string players and pianists. Then, the rest of the orchestra. After a while, jazz and rock musicians. Composers. Conductors. Musicians on the fringes of the mainstream. And so it goes, in an ever-widening circle. I do the same in my visual work, most recently accepting a scholarship from a printshop to learn intaglio techniques.
Depending on when you ask, I will always have a preferred medium - whatever best communicates my thoughts and feelings in a given moment. But it always changes, depending on my studio situation, the content of my work, and the resources I have at hand. I would never say that there is one dominant medium - I don't see it as a competition, and I don't see them as separate things when I'm working. The reason I talk about them as different media is because I function in an art world and a culture that needs those kinds of delineations. I'm good at categorizing and filing, so I'll do it, but I'd prefer not to spend all of my time doing it.
AL: Books are documents, as are most of the objects that I make. They mark a certain time and thought process in my life, and are usually pieces that need to be activated and used. I like the idea of a static object having an active life. My bookbinding teacher, Melissa Jay Craig, taught us that books are "living, breathing things."
BS: Aimee, you have had exhibited widely in the United States and you have been involved with exhibits in Spain and Japan. Do these travels influence the direction of your work? In other words, would you say that the experiences add to your visual language?
AL: Though I have exhibited widely, I don't get to go to all of the openings! That said, I have traveled a good deal in the past two years on artist residency programs and personal trips, which definitely influence my work. Because so much of my work is about my interior landscape and experience, it shifts as I shift. And there is no way to avoid change when traveling, living in new settings, and meeting new people.
BS: Can you tell our readers about other influences? Are you influenced by any specific artists?
AL: After life itself, reading is probably my number one influence. The bulk of my positive childhood memories lay beside me on the living room sofa, buried in books. Reading and writing have been a constant in my life. As I've matured as an artist, I've learned to read more. It's like photosynthesis, except that reading is my sunlight and artwork is my oxygen.
When I was asked to list artists that I admired during an interview for an art class in college, I broke down into tears because I couldn't come up with any! I'm not sure why I have this block, since it's important to me that I honor my influences, but it's likely because artists and their work affect me subtly, so it's hard for me to come up with names on the spot. I remember the feeling of experiencing art more than I remember names, but here is a random sampling: Eva Hesse, Bill Viola, Agnes Martin, Ana Mendieta, Lee Bontecou, Adrian Piper, Mona Hatoum, Albert Chong, David Hammons, Ida Applebroog, Ann Hamilton, Thomas Nozkowski, Patty Chang, Thomas Struth, Binh Danh, Linda Montano, Arvo PŠrt, and Fred Sandback.
I'm also lucky to have a job directly related to my graduate studies, which is pretty unusual. I work for Robbin Ami Silverberg, an established book artist and expert papermaker. I met her two and a half years ago as her intern. Since then, she has transformed her ground floor papermill and studio to a two-story mill and bindery, alongside her husband Andrös Bšršcz's wood shop and studio.
BS: What are you working on at this time?
AL: I have just finished printing a series called Private Performance: Treehouse, which are prints on knitted paper that I made on a scholarship from Manhattan Graphics Center in New York City. I had started a series of knitted handmade paper books in 2006 at Art Farm, a residency program in Nebraska, and continued it as I traveled to different residencies.
The other major project I am working on is La InvasiÑn de las hojas, an outdoor installation that will be presented in Mexico this fall. I have been invited to be a long-distance artist for identidades.04, a residency that brings art to public spaces for audiences that are usually not exposed to international contemporary artists. This year's theme is memory as it relates to identity. While traveling to make paper from local plants, I learned about invasive species and considered that botanical concept as it relates to how immigrants are viewed in their adopted countries.
AL: I am in an exhibit currently at the Lux Center for the Arts in Lincoln, Nebraska, and will have a scaled-down version of a large installation in a traveling exhibit called "Pulp Function" at the Nicolaysen Art Museum & Discovery Center in Casper, Wyoming this summer. This June, I'll have some mail art in a show at Roteiro De Creacion Contemporanea in Santiago de Compostela, Spain. One of my treehouse prints will be part of the Treewhispers project in Naperville, Illinois, for the Chicago International Calligraphy Conference.
Next year, I will have work in two traveling exhibits, both in the US and abroad, and three solo shows. For the solo shows, I hope to show work that I make in Korea on a Fulbright grant, which begins this summer. This is the most exciting upcoming opportunity for me, as I will be able to spend a year in Korea learning the history, techniques, and contemporary applications of hanji, which is traditional Korean paper.
BS: Finally, is there anything else you would like to say about your art?
AL: There's nothing that I'd rather be doing with my life. I have found that the times that I feel most at ease, and have positive productive thoughts, are when I am engaged in neutral, repetitive, physical labor. For me, that means making art or exercising. So I think I'll leave it at that and hit the treadmill. Thanks for asking!
Brian Sherwin