Nothing’s wrong, and nothing’s right; it just is — and it’s beautiful. An interview with Jodee Knowles
By Adam Rivett The work of Jodee Knowles is emotive and immersive, both gutting and overwhelming. From the tender vulnerability of her gothic female portraits to the vivid genre imagery of her fashion work with the Father Superior label, engaging with Knowles’ work is a headlong, immediate experience. Starting her career in Perth, Knowles’ portraiture, design, and fashion have travelled around the world, lately finding a home at The Pool Collective. I sat down with her to discuss her work, reception, and what the future holds. Knowles’ past statements about her work offer a clear view into an abiding aesthetic vision, so we started there.
Adam Rivett: Let’s start with something quite personal: your Artist Statement. There’s a line in it that intrigues me — that your work is based on “the emotional state of mind that makes or breaks a happy existence”. I like the drama of that, the stakes involved. Your paintings are often quite melancholic. Do you see your work as part of an ongoing emotional exploration?
Jodee Knowles: It’s very dramatic, for sure. My works are an extension of me and my emotional state. Like most humans, I struggle to balance and find a safe and consistent place. When I am at my ‘emotional extremes’, I paint, draw or create in any way I can, and this, in turn, allows me to expel any over-the-top emotions and apply them in a physical form. It feels like an exorcism sometimes. I’m not driven by accuracy or perfect brush strokes, and sometimes, even the medium I’m working in feels inferior. But I just have to put the idea or feeling down on something.
AR: There’s another part to that question - in that same Artist Statement, you allude to transference, how once you’ve made your work, it’s almost gone: “Once removing me as the artist, who suffered this process, the works become any individual’s moments”. Whether it’s something relatively small and personal or something larger and more collaborative, is it hard to, at some point, “let go” of work and let others take it elsewhere?
JK: I realised early in my career that people related to my symbology, cryptic messages or emotional state of mind as they are, not as I am. I have had many clients over the years tell me why they connected to a work, and a lot of the time, it had nothing to do with why I created it. I realised from then on that we don’t see things how they are; we see them as we are — that every person has their own perspective of this world. Nothing’s wrong, and nothing’s right; it just is, and it’s beautiful. In this respect, I love letting my works take on another life, as seen through the eyes of the anonymous viewer. The work becomes utterly different from what I created, and I’m happy with that.
AR: OK, let’s go back a step. I noticed in one of the Father Superior jackets that haunting devil’s face from the famous flash cut in The Exorcist. There are all kinds of pop iconography sampled and remixed in your work, and that work cuts across several different applications — fashion, street art, painting, and even tableware. Where do you draw inspiration from, and what do you think has influenced you over the years? Margaret Keane seems like one possible starting point, but do you feel like there are strong presences in your work you’re persistently wrestling with?
JK: Father Superior is a love child and ongoing collaboration with my partner and fellow artist Creon. We started in 2016 wanting to take the art of the walls and have it move with us like it does within us. With my fashion background and Creon’s ability to create any concept we came up with, we decided to run with a nostalgic feeling from our past, that darkness that’s both burdensome and oddly comforting. He painted the jackets while I sourced the concepts and managed the art direction. Our inspiration came from old 80s horror films and villains from our favourite cartoons. We wanted people to feel a direct or similar sensation to what we had in mind. My main influences have always been the dark, the untouchable or the feared.
AR: In the work, I sense a lot of wrestling with childhood influences and emotions — the fragility, the Burtonesque visages, the tenderness and the struggle. How did you get started as a creative person, and is retaining that youthful energy and worldview important to you?
JK: I try to keep an innocence about my work, but not so much my own childhood. My concepts for my artworks have always stemmed from life experiences — the lack of understanding, at times, of me trying to make sense of it all. I never thought I’d be an artist! After High School, I had no clue what my purpose was and decided to study art as it was my only source of happiness. I love the arts in every form. I am not good at all of it, but I love to collaborate, and I think that is what keeps my work engaging, current and youthful. My purpose is to connect people and grow ideas, and I also paint. I live out my dreams through art; watching ideas become reality is my favourite part of my practice.
AR: Speaking of influences as a past concern, are there any contemporary artists in any field you feel inspired by or would even recommend?
JK: Who inspires me changes so often, based on the direction my work is taking me. Still, the masters that stay with me on my journey are Egon Schiele, Dali, Matthew Barney, Marina Abramovic, Mark Ryden, Creon, Jordan Peele, Wes Craven and Alex Face, to name just a few.
AR: I also noticed you’d recently worked with TOTEMO, creating some NFT pieces. What’s it like working in a solely digital space? Did it feel like a natural extension of being an artist in an already highly digital world?
JK: It has been not dissimilar to other collaborations I’ve done in the past. Often, things outside of painting are foreign to me, but I remain true to my ideas and pass them on to the creators of the digital world. I don’t place any expectations on this and allow my collaborators to take my concepts and run freely with them. For my NFTs, I collaborated with French artist ‘The Mushroom Galleries’. They animate 2D works. I wanted my NFTs to tell a story rather than just be my work with movable or interchangeable colours. I sent them images of the work I used in my Japanese exhibition and worked with them on bringing them to life. Totemo took care of the rest — minting works, designing the screens, etc. It was an incredible feeling seeing my pieces shift from canvas to a digital platform in the gallery space and in Tokyo, of all places. That changed the pace of the exhibition itself.
AR: What’s it like collaborating with people in other creative industries? The range of your work suggests collaboration is second nature to you, so I was curious how you balance that with the privacy and isolation the work often depicts?
JK: Collaboration is my favourite part of any creation — even my original works are a collaboration in a sense. If I have an idea for a work, I envision the model, how I want them dressed, the setting, all of it. I spend days online or in old magazines and books, referencing and sourcing images. All of this is a collaboration between me. I think that’s why I feel safe in my solitude, as it’s the kind of solitude that’s also an act of creation and connection.
AR: What have you got ahead of you for the rest of the year?
JK: This year, I have my fifteenth solo exhibition at Perth’s Kamile Gallery, which I’m thrilled about. I’m originally from WA, so heading back home will be special, especially for my next collection, which is pushing the boundaries of perspective and attempting to create an ethereal world within each work. I’m also curating an exhibition for Tokyo’s Gallery Ether, which will tour Sydney in November before returning to Japan early next year for mural work and NFT collaborations.
All works © Jodee Knowles (unless otherwise stated)
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