DAVID CURCIO

David Curcio employs rudimentary fiber arts and simple, direct drawing (occasionally combined with traditional printmaking methods) to create deeply biographical and diaristic pictures. Curcio’s background in printmaking is extremely formal, but the introduction of self-taught stitching and embroidering is a means to strive for pure yet unsettling impact through unassured techniques. As he becomes more comfortable with the humble and direct techniques at first so alien to him, he delves deeper into ever-more personal subject matter. Imagery is accompanied by raw, emotive, histrionic text (invented or derived/paraphrased from novels, songs and other sources) displayed prominently or whispered in scrawls during spontaneous moments of melodrama and morbid sentimentality. Attention is paid to decorative elements in an attempt to maintain the seductive surface appeal strove for by countless fey and anonymous, long-dead and forgotten folk artists whose names are forever lost to the passing of time.

www.davidcurcio.com

“THE CONTRAST BETWEEN THE BOLDNESS and the subtleties is intrinsic to the work. I want it to call to you from across the room and drag you over, closer, closer, and then present a whole new set of visuals to be experienced up close.”

“I HAVE SPENT SO MUCH TIME looking at the great printmakers: Goya, Rembrandt, Cassatt, the Expressionists, and others that it has left me with a kind of visual obligation to the graphic – if not the graphic process (for I do less and less printmaking in my work) than for its dramatic and jarring effect, and the mysteries inherent in the processes.”

“LINCOLN IS ONE OF THOSE HISTORICAL PHENOMENA that will never go away, that will continue to be turned over, examined and reexamined long after we are dead.[...] At the end of the day it is amazing that this man got through life at all, let alone achieved what he did. The fact that he is iconic and means so much to so many people makes him a perfect subject for a work of art, wherein the viewer can bring his or her own associations with the figure to the work and weigh them against mine, which I deliberately leave a little ambiguous.”

“I SUPPOSE ONE COULD ALWAYS FIND SOMEONE who’s never been depressed, but I don’t think those people look at art.[...]Anxiety is a natural state – a baseline – that I deal with using various palliatives, particularly art and pills. [Art] is a way of warding off the demon for at least one more day — kill yourself tomorrow if you have to, but get this done today.”

AN INTERVIEW WITH DAVID CURCIO by Sara Petras

Sara Petras: There are so many layers of nuance in your delicate pencil work, hand embroidery, the decorative patterning and subtle variation in the gampi paper. How do you work with the directness of text in the context of your layered and complex aesthetic?

David Curcio: The text does indeed take the center stage in most of the work, and often this is planned from the inception of the piece. That is not to say I know what the text will say or the image will be, but I often do, and in any case am building around it with these more delicate layers. The contrast between the boldness and the subtleties is intrinsic to the work. I want it to call to you from across the room and drag you over, closer, closer, and then present a whole new set of visuals to be experienced up close.

**

SP: Who are some of your creative influences? I see some references to folk art, 18th and 19th Century history, maybe some Kiki Smith or Louise Bourgeois; who else do you have in there? Tell me about what turns you on about the work of your influences?

DC: Okay, so you nailed a bunch of influences right there, so on to some others: Edvard Munch is perhaps my original influence/motivator, which you might not see in my work, but he did feel the need to lay his soul bare in his work, which, despite its occasional glibness, I try to do in mine.

I have spent so much time looking at the great printmakers: Goya, Rembrandt, Cassatt, the Expressionists, and others that it has left me with a kind of visual obligation to the graphic – if not the graphic process (for I do less and less printmaking in my work) than for its dramatic and jarring effect, and the mysteries inherent in the processes. I love looking at a print and trying to figure out how it was done, and I like that people do that with the mixed media and unconventional combination of materials in my work.

Other influences include literature, and whatever I’m reading often tends to work itself into my work in some way or another. A more recent example is that while reading a book on the British actor Oliver Reed, I made the piece of him with the ax.

**

SP: You reference Lincoln a couple of times in this grouping of works. When did Lincoln become of interest to you? I understand that he suffered from depression and a great deal of grief. Perhaps you felt a kinship with him over that? There are many great public figures who have suffered similarly; why Lincoln? How’d he show up in your world?

DC: Like the Beatles, Lincoln is one of those historical phenomena that will never go away, that will continue to be turned over, examined and reexamined long after we are dead. I became interested in Lincoln about six years ago through Joshua Wolf Shenk’s excellent “Lincoln’s Melancholy: How Depression Effected a Presidency.” It read as a biography from the angle of mental illness, its various treatments in the mid 19th Century, and Lincoln’s own battles with mood disorder.

This was my entry into the world of Lincoln, and from this book, after some obligatory biographies, I read about his marriage, which was wrought with strife. At the end of the day it is amazing that this man got through life at all, let alone achieved what he did. The fact that he is iconic and means so much to so many people makes him a perfect subject for a work of art, wherein the viewer can bring his or her own associations with the figure to the work and weigh them against mine, which I deliberately leave a little ambiguous. I should note that this is my intention for all of my work, not just the Lincoln pieces: I want it to serve as a mirror or Rorschachian slate upon which viewers draw their own conclusions as to the meaning. Lincoln is such an historical and cultural giant, I do try to incorporate lesser known figures (with whom I identify in one way or another) into my work.

**

SP: In reading about, and physically experiencing, your art, I think it’s safe to say that you have experienced challenging mood states. Depression and other mood disorders are not uncommon ailments in the arts — I’m certainly a person who’s been touched by them. I’d love to know if you have a message to other artists who struggle with this kind of thing. What keeps you making work despite the pull of not making when you are suffering?

DC: The fact that you say you’ve been touched by it is important here, because I think most people have [been]. I suppose one could always find someone who’s never been depressed, but I don’t think those people look at art. Both depression and anxiety fuel my work, and excepting very bad periods that may last a few days, there is never any pull not to do the work. It becomes diaristic, and I am compelled to set certain thoughts or sentiments down on paper in the form of the work we’re discussing. The depressive experiences take the form of countless periods permeated by a sense of worthlessness; a sense of having no direction; and the frequent temptation to bring it all to an abrupt, unnatural end. Anxiety is a natural state – a baseline – that I deal with using various palliatives, particularly art and pills. Pills are a temporary but effective means of controlling anxiety, while art serves almost as a solution to these hopeless states and assures the sufferer (in this case me) that there is purpose (although I have spent many hours asking myself if making stitched drawings is actually time well spent). It is a way of warding off the demon for at least one more day — kill yourself tomorrow if you have to, but get this done today. This is where the “delicate pencil work and hand embroidery” you mentioned earlier comes in. I can give free reign to my unconscious in the pencil scrawlings, and create distraction from my obsessive, troubled thoughts through the monotonous task of stitching and embroidering. Some days I can’t focus on the big message, the text, the central image, and these are the days when inspiration is lacking, hiding, buried somewhere, and so I just do the rest of the work, the drudgery and monotony, of which there is much. Sometimes I am pleased to find that out of this great moments of inspiration arise.

return to Issue Fourteen