Artist Julie Armbruster talks sharks and gesso

There's nothing like eating a southern breakfast under a team of manatee angels. I was eating biscuits and gravy at the Early Girl Eatery in Asheville, NC, when I became enchanted by these small, colorful paintings on the walls. There was a swarm of blubbery angels and a potato boy. They were cartoony but very textured. The paintings have a beautiful, milky encaustic surface that makes the wild imagery even more mysterious and dreamlike. I decided to e-mail artist Julie Armbruster about her work. [Pictured left: Her Evil Nature Could No Longer Remain Hidden. 4 x 5 inches. Click on photo for larger image.]

Gusto: How did you become an artist?

Julie Armbruster: I have always loved the idea of becoming an artist, but I originally studied to be a teacher. After I tried teaching at a private school/cult in Connecticut I decided I needed to be a better artist if I wanted to be able to teach. So, I enrolled in the most fantastic MA program at NYU to study painting in Venice, Italy. It never occurred to me that being an artist was a viable option, but I spent months enjoying the idea of it. I had a fantastic studio in Venice off of the Zattere and spent every waking hour working out my ideas. The more [time] I spent painting and drawing the more I became addicted to the idea of making a go at exploring my personal vision more seriously. I spent the next two years in Williamsburg, Brooklyn trying to keep my head above water and make enough money to earn free time. It was a losing battle and I decided to move to a place where I could work less for money and more for myself. I moved to Asheville, NC in 2005 and have been working on my paintings ever since.

I spend about 30 hours a week in the studio and feel that I have just scratched the surface of where I want to be as an artist. There is a unique balance here of creative people, affordable living, and natural beauty in Asheville and I feel that the energy and creative support I’ve found here keeps me going. More specifically, it was my first show at Early Girl Eatery that helped me to believe that this was a real option. When I proposed the show to the owners I had no new work. I wanted to make it site specific. I wanted to incorporate the quirkiness of Asheville with the diner colors of the restaurant with my own personal vision. Three months later, I made over 40 paintings for the opening and worked out my current process. Within a year I sold over 100 paintings and have set up two studios and maintain a 30-hour studio work week. I currently have a new show up at Early Girl. It is becoming more real to me with every show; I grow more and my paintings are becoming increasingly involved, detailed, and personal.

You use recurring symbols like animals and babies and empty room interiors that seem very personal. Can you talk about where these images come from?

All of my characters come from the process of automatic drawing. I begin with a wash of ink and push the pigment around. I use a homemade gesso that separates and manipulates the ink. I keep going until I see something. I like to imagine that all of my characters come out of my social perceptions and world view. As my brush moves, my brain considers all of the options and shapes and decides on the most interesting one. Ultimately, I think the social observations come in afterwards when I title the work.

I also think that my work is centered around the idea that humans are not the exceptions to the laws of nature. The animal personifications and hybrids serve as reminders that we are not in charge of anything really and are subject to the same vulnerabilities/sensitivities/emotions that other creatures feel. Babies and children come up because they are young and impressionable and still honest with their emotions. I often paint children with white or grey hair to show that there is growing dissatisfaction and weariness weighing them down.


Can you share the step-by-step process of how you paint a picture?

Most of the new small works are part of a series entitled: "How Do You Keep Your Captives?" The idea came to me as I was observing a classroom teacher manipulate her students through fear tactics.

For the small works I buy a 4 inch x 72 inch piece of 3/4 inch select pine. I chop up the piece into smaller sizes ranging from 7 x 4 to 3 1/2 x 4 inches. I sand the surface and tape the edges with painters tape. Then I coat the surface with the homemade gesso (3 layers) Next, I begin the ink wash. I like to use Bombay inks and push around the color with a brush. Sometimes it will take a few days and a few colors to figure out what the picture will be. Once I see the character, I'll take black India ink and pull it out a little more. Layer upon layer I will pull out the character and push back the surrounding space. My characters often end up either floating or backed up against a wall. Along with the series title they are captives in one way or another. Once the character looks solid enough I dip the panel into a bath of encaustic (beeswax and resin)and secure it with a heat gun. The encaustic is basically clear, but has some natural yellowing. Finally, I will take the tape off and frame it. (The frame protects the very delicate surface.)

For the larger panels I often use an idea that I've worked out in one of the smaller "Captive" paintings and expand it. For instance, I “found” this character that was stuck inside of a shark’s mouth. I wondered about her story and thought about it for a few months. I researched sharks and some shark attack stories and obsessed about that for a little while. Recently, it came to me that she was not swallowed by a shark, but slowly becoming a shark and that I need to do a panel with sharks with giant stitches where they were put together after the child entered them.

She Wanted To Fit In, But Was Destroying Herself in the Process.
50 x 25 inches. (Click on photo for larger image)


Why did you come to study art in New York City? Why did you leave?

I grew up in upstate NY. I always had a fondness for the city, but it wasn’t until after my experience living in rural Connecticut my first year out of undergrad that it occurred to me that living in NY would me the most spectacular experience I could afford myself. I got into the program through NYU, but only took classes during the summer and the first 2 summers were in Venice, Italy. So, living in the city was not necessary for my education, but I had an urge to try it out.

The reason I left was that I felt like I was losing my idealism and my faith in humankind. I was becoming increasingly paranoid and really didn’t want to end up one of the dead-eyed droans I rode the L train with each day. I didn’t want to worry about how I looked all of the time and put on a face so that I wouldn’t be “messed with” as I went about the chores of daily living. I saw too many extremes and felt like I was always fighting for a scrap of free time. I couldn’t paint there. The small amounts of free time I did manage to steal away, I felt obligated to see the cultural institutions. I had a job at the Frick Collection and got into any museum for free, so I became a museum junkie. All I could do was appreciate; my personal ability was pushed within. It was not the beautiful life that I had saw for myself in Venice and I knew that I didn’t have to stay there.

My final semester at NYU was at the Manhattan campus and by then I had already made up my mind to leave the city. I worked in my studio tirelessly and then had a tiny MA show that was up for 3 weeks in the summer. I don’t think anybody even saw it.

Is graduate school a waste of time and money?

My program brought me to Venice and for that it was worth it. I had an amazing studio and spent all of my time floating through a perpetual dream. I had a chance to try out the life of an artist with a support system backing me up and I am certain that I would not have decided to try it out full time had it not been for my experience there.

I think the money is a difficult thing to rationalize. At the time I had such an apocalyptic view of the world I was kind of hoping that the system would crumble before I’d have to pay it back. (The city really affected me.) Now, that I make my little payments and live the life I dreamed, I can definitely say it was worth it.


What are the positives and negatives of being an artist in rural North Carolina?

Positives: Everyone seems to want to help each other. I just ask for a show and it seems like things just work out. I have met some amazing artists and am involved in an artist collective Segment 16. There is a spirit of cooperation here. The Black Mountain School was here and I think there is some kind of residual energy that remains. The rent/expenses are much less and we live in the mountains. There is a great breeze that comes through. The weather is not all that extreme and there are lots of artists that I have been able to connect with.

Negatives: Lack of opportunities. Although it is sort of easy to get a show, there are not that many places and the nearest “city” is Atlanta…maybe Raleigh and they really aren’t the best art cities. I’ve shown in Raleigh and Knoxville, but it is such an expense to get the work there that it is hardly worth it.
A few of my favorite artist collaborators have moved. It is difficult to find a decent money making job here and there are lots of people willing to do whatever to stay.

There is also the NORTH-SOUTH “thing” and as one might expect there are a lot of ignorant people. It is amazing that some people can say with all honesty that the Confederacy will rise again. I see lots of Confederate flags, mostly outside the city limit. You can easily avoid it, but it is kind of scary that Asheville is so secluded among a VERY conservative majority.


Can you talk about how and why you use encaustic?

The encaustic is used to preserve the image. It sets the characters in a depth and distance from the viewer and is meant to capture the memory of that particular image. (Kind of like fetus in a jar with formaldehyde)

So these paintings are basically ink on gesso on board, with a coat of encaustic on top?

To be fair, I also use regular gesso added with ink or acrylic to thicken up parts that do not seem to be opaque enough. I think technically it shouldn't work with the encaustic surface, but because I coat the board with my homemade gesso, it has worked out fine.

That would explain how they look so layered and deep, but you must really use a lot of ink layers?

Yes! lots of layers helps to richen the color. For example, the background of the shark painting has red, red orange, and purple inks swirled around. And then I repeat the process. For that painting it was 3 different colors with 3 coats. I wait a day in between and the ink soaks into the gesso and wood surface. It is really the homemade gesso that helps out a lot. It congeals and absorbs the color in a different way. It looks really dry before the encaustic is on, but it is really exciting when I first dip the painting. All of the colors brighten and the depth of the painting is magnified.

Care to share your homemade gesso recipe?

Well, I had a lot of trouble with the gesso. My Italian painting teacher first suggested I use rabbit skin glue or fish glue to bind the pigments, but I insisted that my material not be made of dead animals. I tried a bunch of different things, but then settled on a flour, water, gesso pigment, honey, linseed oil, and yellow ochre mixture. The surface is very dry.

Which painting of yours has most surprised you?

I recently did a series called “What Happens Up Shit’s Creek?” The panels relate the story of a blonde boy who decides to travel up Shit’s Creek to see what he’ll find. Well, needless to say it is not a happy tale. After he’d been threatened by leeches and a ferocious alligator, he is shit on by a giant toilet beast and pushed out of his boat. Two manatees swim up to him and help him. The boy thinks that things are finally turning around and he and his new friends are run over by a speed boat. The painting that most surprises me is of the mangled remains of the manatees and the dismembered boy screaming in agony at the tragic accident.

Nothing Could Have Prepared Him For What Happened Next.
21.5 x 11.5 inches. (Click on photo for larger image)

First of all, I was surprised that I could draw dead animals. Then I was surprised at how gruesome yet funny it looked. I get a lot of reactions to that particular panel.

Do you ever think of where you'll be in the future with your work, or is that question unhelpful?

I am always thinking about what the future of my work will bring. Another great lesson from grad school has to do with sticking it out. Most of my professors put in the years of seeking their personal vision and the sheer dedication to continue has keep them involved. It was more their insistence that they belonged rather than the art world embracing them. My favorite painter is Keith Haring for that very reason. My only real concern has to do with sustainable income and keeping the balance between job-for-money and making what I want. It is working out right now, but it is kind of a delicate thing and I am hoping it will resolve itself as I get better at figuring things out. I am trying to stay positive and focus on what is working and give myself some time to make more paintings and see what happens.

For more background on Julie Armbruster's work, go to her website: http://www.juliearmbruster.net. If you want to see more of her recent work, check out the MySpace: http://www.myspace.com/juliearmbruster.