A Dazzling Conversation with Kerry Skarbakka

Photo Credit: Bondo Wyszpolski

Photo Credit: Bondo Wyszpolski

Kerry Skarbakka is an artist working at the intersection of studio arts, performance, and constructed photography. The core of his practice examines the complexities of existence, control, and the vulnerabilities of the human condition through performative physical acts and expanded roles of identity. Skarbakka’s performance-based photographic work depicting acts of falling, drowning, and fighting have been exhibited in galleries, museums and art fairs internationally. Highlights include the Torrance Art Museum, Los Angeles; the Haifa Museum of Art, Israel; Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago, the North Carolina Museum of Art and Fargfabriken Norr, Stockholm. A Creative Capital Awardee, he has received funding from the Oregon Arts Commission, The Ford Family Foundation, the Illinois Arts Council, and the Chicago Center of Cultural Affairs. He was also awarded a public arts commission from the City of Seattle through the 1% for the Arts Program. Skarbakka’s work has been featured in notable publications including ApertureArt and AmericaAfter Image, and ArtReview International. Extensive online media coverage includes The Huffington PostWiredSlateThe Guardian, and many others. Additionally, Skarbakka has appeared on several live radio and television interviews including Karrang! Radio, London, and NBC’s “Today Show”, New York City. Skarbakka received his Bachelors in Studio Arts from the University of Washington, Seattle, and an MFA in Photography from Columbia College Chicago. He is an Associate Professor of Photography at Oregon State University in Corvallis, Oregon.

 

UZOMAH: Do you believe artists have a responsibility to share their art with the world?

KERRY: I believe in being a citizen of this world, and all of us should try to leave this place better than where we found it. But it is not my right to decide where any one person’s responsibility lies, at least in terms of their art. Art is so personal, and there are so many forms and manifestations of making. Furthermore, putting out something so close to your heart for the scrutiny of others carries an inherent risk. Not everyone is cut out for such things. And that’s okay. There are many other ways in which a creative life can be of benefit outside of producing and presenting for the public.

However, there is something in that drive to make that also elicits the desire/need to reach an audience. My studio practice is directly linked with the need to share what I do. As an extension of my voice, it is likely the most effective way I have to influence and promote change…therefore making it my responsibility. I’m not sure I would be content with making art solely for the pleasure of just myself. I work with my hands constantly and have other creative endeavors and interests for which I would rather use that time. But for those that have the perseverance and tenacity and are compelled to contribute to the many crucial conversations that surround, then I guess it would fall into their responsibility to do so.

 

U: How did you come up with the concept of having you hanging from the air?

(Blue Tree © 2002)

(Blue Tree © 2002)

I work directly from personal lived experience and perspective, along with a rather intense internal dialogue that I cannot escape. My art is a direct response to this complex combination of external motivations and mixed emotions. A year before I started graduate school at Columbia College in Chicago, my mother died of brain cancer. Another year later into my program, the 911 attacks shifted the dynamics of the entire world. The addition of external pressures such as continuous war, overt abuse of political power, and the threat of global warming only contributed to my state of mind. Through it all, I was searching for a way to respond to the grief, anxiety, anger that was all-consuming. Following my philosophical tendency towards existentialism, the act of falling or “the fall” seemed the natural avenue to explore.

Interestingly, revisiting this work now, almost exactly 20 years later from the time period and events in which sparked the first piece made in the series, I feel much of the same sense of concern; only it’s more intensified. Unfortunately, the disruption and uncertainty of the global pandemic, increased social/political upheaval, and a planet burning out of control seems to have made this project more relevant than ever.


U: What are some things that must happen for you to have a successful shot?

 

(Shower © 2005)

(Shower © 2005)

 

There really isn’t an answer for this, as success is somewhat subjective. From my perspective, I think the elements just all have to work and come together in a manner that speaks to me initially. And I definitely get more excited about some projects than others. However, from there I have to release it into the world. I have often been surprised by work I’ve found personally unsuccessful find appreciation by an individual viewer or organization and, all of a sudden, it rises to the top.

 

U: How would you describe your artistic process?

I am 100% project-oriented. I spend a lot of time listening to the world around me, paying attention to areas of contention, and thinking about the possibilities and potential outcomes. The catalyst for making work the is the area of concern (i.e., global warming, social injustice, pandemics…) Then it becomes a process of finding the right expression or mode of making to address the subject/problem and provide meaning, hopefully resonating with the viewer. This often entails staring at blank walls or out the window for long periods of time, playing out a scene, or running through a project for its feasibility and message.

 

Once I have narrowed in on an idea, I may chew on it for a while more in research, looking at all the angles, mapping it out, and/or drawing sketches before making that first piece. After initial execution, I like to let the work guide me from there, to help me understand how to make the next moves. Sometimes, I end up in a much different spot than I had expected, which offers new avenues of understanding and direction. Once that direction is established, I become immersed, almost manic, until the project (or portion thereof) is finished. Even at the feeling of completion, I leave room for growth and change, as I begin the next phase of the process: post-production and installation. It all has meaning.

 

U: What makes creating art rewarding for you?

 

K: There is a certain sense of accomplishment in actualizing something you’ve been ruminating on and have finally brought to fruition, especially if you actually like the outcome. It’s a test of one’s fortitude. While agonizing over each next new idea is never fun, when a project is in full swing, there is a high created from being in the zone.

However, the most fulfillment comes from reaching one or many of my audience/community. This is my platform. If something resonates with a viewer and they come away from the work with a new understanding or having uncovered something meaningful from what I’ve made, I feel like it was worth it.


U: What was the inspiration behind using your body as a metaphor?



(Window © 2009)

(Window © 2009)

 

K: Using my own body has always seemed the natural approach to making my work. From growing up and working on a farm, to dancing in the clubs (in my earlier days), to years of rock climbing and studying various forms of martial arts, I have always been physical, relying on my body to perform well in most situations. Additionally, my pursuit of acting for a period of time helped my understanding of gestures and utilizing my body as a vehicle for communication.

And while the Big Stage was not to be my destiny, I came to understand there was a place for me to carve out through a combination of performance-based practices and constructed photography. The experience of being fully immersed in making my work has always been central to my practice and I enjoyed the process of being in front of the camera. Drawn to daring and provocative uses of the body, I found in myself (my body) a free, available, and willing model where my recorded actions could have a life of their own.

Taking this further into my current work on white masculinity, my aging white male body carries such complex representation and connotation that using it as a vehicle for this discussion only made sense. As both subject and artist, I am symbolic of the problem, and at the same time, integral to the solution for positive change.

 

U: Your newest project, “White Noise '' addresses toxic white masculinity. Can you explain more about it?

 

K: In the summer of 2016, following the birth of my son, and in my new position at Oregon State University, I dove headfirst into a new project: White Noise, an evolving multi-media installation comprised of 50+ photographs, videos and sculpture. Concern for my son’s future amid rising social and political extremism – and an ensuing Trump presidency – paired with the need to raise a conscientious and empathetic citizen, I turned my lens on the crisis of masculinity emanating from certain white male communities.

Upset at political correctness, immigration, the loss of jobs, and a way of life, an intense anger and disillusionment had rippled through the deeper parts of this community. For many, viewing the previous administrations as unwilling to help and even complicit it their demise, a profound concern that their future had already dissipated had become the rallying cry. For them, Trump and people like Trump were (and still are) the solution. I knew he was going to win the election. And I was concerned.

You see, I grew up lower-middle class in an authoritarian-Evangelical household on a small farm outside Pulaski, Tennessee. This rural town of around 7000 people is in the deep South where the Ku Klux Klan was started, and where I attended high school. My stepfather preached and taught at the various churches we followed over years and ruled with an iron bible. I began speaking in tongues by the age of 7 and even spent time overseas as a teen missionary.

For many reasons, kids like me really don’t have a chance. Relatively poor in conservative rural environments, raised on the bible with a vengeful god by an overbearing stepfather, father, or no father at all – and nothing to do for miles out in the middle of nowhere, options are few. The military is often one of the only ways out, and it is the one that I took. My life expectancy in the war for my position was 7 seconds. Eventually, the psychological impact of these forms of extremism cultivated in my earlier life paired with the military led to an unhealthy association with death and dying and deep-seated anxiety that has haunted my artwork and life to this day.

(All In (Video Stills) © 2018)

(All In (Video Stills) © 2018)

As such, I have been wary of the potential for white male discord my entire life. From it, I knew Trump was inevitable. From it, I knew the religious right was a force to be reckoned with. And from it, I knew how easily it could have been for me to take a different path in life. So in that summer of 2016, I began a transformation process – a new performance – channeling various versions and invoking the sentiment of the Angry White Male. Over the course of three years, I became him, or should I say, I became the man I could have been.

The events we have lived through, and continue to do so, have definitely helped to shape the content of this investigation. And what was originally conceived of as an “olive branch”, by bringing these perceived “disenfranchised” voices into the national conversation, ultimately turned into a sordid tale of the life and downward spiral of an angry white man.

 

U: What type of conversations do you want to evolve because of White Noise?

K: And as far as the outcome from all this, making this work over the course of the last several years and understanding more about it through its multiple iterations and installations, with new pieces being added here and there, I am still learning about it. But I am very wary. What I know is, as more and more believe (or are allowed to believe) their way of life being taken away or replaced, angry white males feel their backs are up against the wall. As was shown by the U.S. Election, insurrection on the Capitol, and in almost every day current events regarding masks and vaccines, agents from these communities were (and are) prepared to make their stand. This fear, perpetuated by enculturation, propaganda, and religious indoctrination is a serious dilemma and is reshaping politics. Big questions remain if continued social, economic, and political policies make acts of violence and hate even more prevalent and normalized. Will the country be pushed/coerced deeper into a civil revolt? Or worse, another Civil War? 

(Bloodline © 2017)

(Bloodline © 2017)

As the father of a five-year-old little boy, within this discussion of male identity, I have even deeper concerns. How will we talk about men and masculinity? How do I teach him to appropriately express his anger? What or who will be his influences? How will he understand and navigate diversity, inclusion, privilege, as well as his own identity within this society? A representative of the next generation and the actor in some of the imagery of this series, the hope is that this body of work will help clarify the world around him. And maybe, just maybe, others white males may find this work at a crucial time, a time when they may find themselves on the fence and wondering on which side they should stand.

Furthermore, I cannot escape the person I am, and my own potential for missteps based on the conditioning of the system in which I grew up. I have put a painstaking amount of energy and time seeking to remove myself from my conservative upbringing and religious encoding. But the truth is, inherent bias exists, and it requires constant monitoring. Therefore, this work is a critique of white privilege and admission of implicit bias and systemic racism. Through this lens of crisis and humanity, I hope to find a more constructive discussion. Universally, my intention is that this work contributes to the ongoing dialogue on masculinity, economics, race, class, and identity; taking on new meaning as the story of America (and indeed, the stories of other affected communities around the world) continues to unfold. This is not just a reflection, but a complex search of what it means to be white and male in the world today.

 

U: What is the most important lesson you have learned about being an artist that can be used also in life?

K: I think it’s important to take risks and to push oneself beyond one’s comfort level. More importantly, I would say it’s important to follow one’s passions. Our system is designed from the very beginning to create workers and followers, not thinkers and innovators. Pursuit of the arts is like any other pursuit in which you create your own path. It may not be the easiest path, but it is fulfilling, and the critical thinking never ends.

And while I say this, I have to admit that being an artist who works with controversial topics, especially like the “White Noise” project, I have learned so much about my own failings and places where I need to be better. I’m getting older and the learning never ends. This work has uncovered holes in my evolution that need attention. Words and actions matter and it falls upon my responsibility to address these shortcomings and work harder. This necessary growth is integral to the now and beyond.

 

U: What subject have you not explored in your art that you wish to?

(Submarine © 2009)

(Submarine © 2009)

 

K: While I have explored much of where I think my contribution lies, a major focus where I have engaged, yet barely scratched the surface, is the Environment. I consider this to be one (if not the most) pressing issue facing humanity. It’s a race against time. Without a healthy planet, all the other problems that exist will not have a suitable place to sort themselves out.

U: How do the mediums of art differ from each other in how you approach what you chose to express?



(Neighborhood Watch © 2016)

(Neighborhood Watch © 2016)

K: As a professor of photography, I tell my students that each project dictates its own needs. I want them to look at the camera as a tool, like a hammer or a paintbrush. Not every project can be completely understood or realized through just one medium or the use of just one tool. The inclusion of video or sculptural objects may go further to strengthen one’s message. I believe in an interdisciplinary approach, where there are more options to communicate one’s intention.

While the majority of my work utilizes the camera and is routinely presented on a two-dimensional surface, I have always considered my practice to be multi-disciplinary, as each image is “built” from a combination of efforts. Each medium offers its own language and carries its own weight within the expression. There is a conversation that happens between these various mediums and approaches used both during the creation process and final presentation where they are all working together.

 

U: What is something you would suggest to someone unsure about pursuing art as a major in school?

K: It depends on if one is looking to pursue art at the undergraduate level or graduate. I think a degree at the undergraduate level is always a fine choice. Go for it! It promotes a thought process that involves problem-solving, risk-taking, and critical thinking…all essential for life and professions outside the institution. However, if you are serious enough to want to take it to the next level, I am somewhat more ambivalent about graduate school. Art is an application of your vocation. And for some, graduate school is just not necessary to achieving success in the art world. While it can be an amazing experience and is important if you want to teach and form strong connections and networks to share your work, it also comes with a hefty price tag. I would say that one should take some time in between higher education models, travel the world, live and love, make art and get involved with their community. That time in between degrees can be a crucial space for learning and introspection. And it costs a lot less! If you find you are still making art and feel the need for advancement in which only graduate school can fulfill, then apply and move forward. But be strategic about it and consider the power different institutions hold in assisting in your definition of success. Look for schools, programs, and importantly, professors that you feel can push you and help scaffold your endeavors.

For more information about Kerry’s artwork please visit his site.

Previous
Previous

A Conversation with Jim Shrosbree

Next
Next

A Graceful Conversation with Vian Borchert