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American Space at Tyler School of Art and Architecture

Thanks to everyone who came out to see the show! Here’s a few installation shots and my statement for the exhibition…

The large-scale paintings in this exhibition are all influenced by my experiences living and travelling through different regions of the United States. Born in Kalamazoo, Michigan, I grew up mostly in suburban central Florida and have spent my adult years between the Midwest, North Carolina, and east coast cities like New York and Philadelphia. I’m interested in the cultural differences between these geographic regions, and how different members of my extended family, all seeing themselves as “American,” possess conflicting worldviews. Each painting is based on a small collage, made from photographs of the different places where I’ve lived or spent time.

On one level, the paintings offer a dystopic reflection of America. The compositions are fractured and disorienting, and are shot through with the artificial colors and slick affect that I associate with toxic consumerism and advertising. The paintings also speak to my anxieties around mainstream American culture’s domineering attitude toward nature. Yet plenty of passages are painted with tenderness; the work doesn't flat-out condemn America so much as it grapples with my love for a homeland that’s riddled with systemic problems.

On another level, the paintings move beyond reflection and reckoning with what is, and they begin to imagine what could be. They play with reconstructing a new world.

The exhibition also includes a selection of my recent drawings. I made these works intuitively throughout the pandemic, negotiating controlled marks with the unpredictable movements of ink and watercolor. Like the paintings, they play with inventing space and evoke a sense of possibility.

Current/Recent Exhibitions

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2020 Tyler MFA Painting
Massey Klein Gallery
August 17-31

Last month, I had the pleasure of exhibiting one of my recent large scale pieces from the American Space series at Massey Klein Gallery in New York. The physical exhibition has come down, but you can view installation shots and even do a virtual walk-through on the gallery's website! (Above photo courtesy of Massey Klein.)

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TSA_PDF 009: Sand Between my Teeth
curated by Adam Lovitz
September 1-15

Sand Between my Teeth is Tiger Strikes Asteroid's 9th printable exhibition, featuring work by Gavin Bartlett, Julia Clift, Paige Donovan, Loren Erdrich, Frankie Gardiner, Bambi Glass, Dara Haskins, John Mitchell, Pamela Phatsimo Sunstrum, and Peter Williams.

TSA_PDF is a series of printable shows curated by members of the artist collective Tiger Strikes Asteroid. People are invited to download and print high-resolution images of the included works on their home printers for a pay-what-you wish fee. To learn more or make a purchase, visit TSA's website, and check out the New York Times write-up on this super inventive exhibition series!

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CERTAIN GROUND is an online exhibition curated by Tausif Noor, with an accompanying essay titled "On Groundedness," featuring the 2020 Tyler MFA Painting graduates: Austen Camille, Julia Clift, Jay Hartmann, Kathryn Mecca, Alexandria Nazar, Chris Riddle, Olivia Sherman, Riley Strom, and Warith Taha. The project is the result of a year-long relationship between Noor and the cohort. 

www.certainground.com

Drawings Sale

UPDATE: All of the drawings have found homes. Thank you to everybody who reached out, I appreciate your support! If you’d like to be notified about future mega-sales like this one, just send me an email and I’ll add you to my mailing list.

24 original works on paper for $25 a piece.

I've reduced the price of these works as low as I can--essentially the cost of materials and shipping--to make it possible for more folks to own and live with original art. I think it’s important! My hope is to spread some beauty in this dark time and foster human connection as we all cope with quarantine and social distancing. Each piece is mixed media on heavy watercolor paper and is 9" x 12", a standard size if you choose to frame. If you’d like to learn more about where the drawings are coming from, check out my last blog post.

To make a purchase, simply email me at juliaclift5@gmail.com with the numbers you’d like. Enjoy, and be well!

Drawing Through the Pandemic

The week of March 9th was a slow chipping away at all that structured my life as an MFA student. Classes moved online, my thesis review and exhibition became a question mark, and grads were ordered to leave their studios. It felt like my cohort community was evaporating without warning or ceremony; I felt heartbroken and entirely disoriented. COVID-19 had only recently touched down in the U.S., and the reality of its danger hadn’t yet sunk in—nor had the reality of a global economic crisis.

Two experiences that week stand out from the haze. On Thursday, I visited an older artist’s home studio. I saw her magnificent, abstract drawings and paintings spanning decades and two coasts, as well as the precious works she’d collected over the years from friends. Secondly, on Friday, one of my professors was making harmonograph drawings in the school lobby with any one who chanced to pass by and show interest. I stopped to make one and was quickly lifted by the perfection of the machine, the beauty of the drawings, and the persistence of my mentor’s rational mind amidst the insanity of the moment. In both cases, I felt healed by a generosity coiled like a spring within thoughtful, beautiful art.

I’ve always been skeptical of how useful we artists really are to society. I think a good deal about whether art should serve as a call to action in troubled times, and if rather than being “moving,” art should move its viewers to act. But my experiences the week of March 9th gave me new perspective.

Since March 17th, I’ve spent a good portion of each day working on abstract drawings in a cleared-out corner of the house. It’s important to acknowledge my privilege, here. No one in my family is sick, I have a stable home and a nourishing partnership with my husband, and we have a little bit of savings. Not all artists have the capacity to make work right now, and I count myself blessed. The drawings make use of random, leftover materials that I distractedly grabbed from my studio before the school locked its doors, or that I happened to have lying around the house. This includes a few colors of ink and dye, some green latex house paint, and a bit of half-dried orange acrylic. Fortuitously, I had a stack of 9” x 12” watercolor paper in the house, leftover from a workshop that I taught this fall with poor attendance. These are parameters born of necessity, stores are closed and money is tight. But it feels poignant to work with materials that I don’t have control over, to figure out how to make use of what’s at hand (as artists have done for centuries). In 2016, at the Architectural Association School of Architecture in London, Brian Eno gave a lecture where he talked about art as a way for people to rehearse the critical life skill of negotiating between control and surrender, or going with the flow. I think that’s right. Drawing through the pandemic creates space for me to process what’s happening, while it exercises the mental faculties that we all need to face this moment—to be nimble, to control what we can and accept what we cannot.