Departure

Kate williams

Departure, light scupture

Interview by L. Valena
December 27, 2023

Can you please describe the prompt that you responded to?

I was emailed an image. It didn't have the title in the email, but when I dropped it into my browser, the file name was "Arrival". Honestly, I was thrown for a loop – it wasn't what I was expecting. I didn't know what to do, so I sat with it for a bit. It gave me a bit of anxiety looking at it, which is cool. That's what art is, we need to feel things. But I was sitting here, and thought, "If this is 'Arrival', then I'm departing." So that was how I got my theme.

What happened next?

I put the prompt on my iPad. I'm a conceptual artist, so it really isn't about the medium, it's about how and why I feel compelled to do whatever I do in the moment. I build these immersive experiences for people, and I try to make them as big as possible so you feel really small, or at least inside of something. That's what I got when I was looking at this piece in a two-dimensional way. I really thought you could just step right into it. So I tried, and I did. I walked in and looked around, and it felt weird. There was a layer of text under it. It reminded me of a game of visual telephone, where the piece was passed around and people were adding layer on top of layer on top of layer.

Instead of layering over it, I decided to do the opposite, to try to alleviate the heaviness. I don't know why I had such a somatic response to this piece, but I really felt it in my chest.

It's really easy to run away from those feelings, so I salute you diving in and embracing the process. That's what it's all about.

I really didn't know what I was going to get. Food? A song? But to get this! Wow, there's so much movement, and then there's this heaviness. The colors are weird. And then this star/vortex thing. There's so much detail once you start zooming in and in and in. There are little pieces of textile and thread in it.

Tell me about the piece that you made. How did you start?

I started by projecting the original image. I wanted to look at the piece really large to see if it would relieve some of the heaviness; I thought the light would help. And as I projected it, it caught the corner of my kitchen and made this really nice shape. It was a happy accident, as Bob Ross would say.

Projection and working with light and shadow is so interesting, because you set out to do something and end up with something completely different. Ten times out of ten. I've never once set out with an intention, because I know it's just not going to happen. Something beautiful will happen without planning. That's when the most beautiful things happen – when you don't plan for them.

I am not a Star Wars fan. I don't know the first thing about Star Wars, and I have no idea how this picture of Luke Skywalker came onto my iPad, but low and behold, here it is. I have tried to watch Star Wars so many times, and it just doesn't stick. I'm a sci-fi buff. I'm a nerd for Doctor Who. My whole arm is tattooed with Doctor Who. But I can't get into Star Wars. Anyway, my partner told me this image is the end of Luke Skywalker's story. And you can see a lot of emotion in this person's eyes. But it came out of nowhere, it was totally just a gamble that the image happened to be on my iPad.

I like that between the two pieces, the prompt that I started with and the piece that I created, I took the colors and the elements of movement and heaviness, and tried to make it light. Instead of going inward, my piece is going outward. The light is shooting out. These eyes are kind of foggy, and you don't know what you're looking at, but you're getting a sense of push rather than pull.

I think this idea of turning inward versus shining outward is a really interesting thing to be thinking about and playing with. I'm wondering if this is something you've been thinking about more generally or if there are other ways this has been playing out in your own life.

I'm a psychotherapist as well as an artist, so I love this question. There is a lot of introspection done, in my work as an artist as well as my work as a therapist. In order to shine outward, we have to go inward. When we feel those feelings of anxiety, we have to tackle it head on. I always like to say that you have to go through something, you can't go around it. We have to go through things in order to be our best selves. It might mean that it's going to get dark and anxious, scary and a little uncomfortable, but that's how we shine out.

How does this piece relate to the rest of your work?

I primarily work with light and shadow. There's a really interesting and captivating thing that happens when a light goes on. In a very metaphorical sense as well as a physical sense. I've always been so mesmerized by the way we can start and stop light. When you put your hand in front of a light, and see how it casts on a wall, it's almost as if you're bending elements, but you're not really bending anything. You can't reach out and grasp it, because it's not there. It goes back to this impermanence.

My pieces don't really exist unless you turn the projector on. Somebody has to start and stop it, unless you take a photo of it, but that's really just documentation. You have to be there to be in control of what's happening, and then there's this power dynamic of where does the piece start and stop? Does it start with the person who turns the projector on? Does it start or stop when a photo is taken? That's the kind of stuff I like to play with. What is this? What is the piece? I like working with things that move, and don't have a clear beginning or ending.

Cool. Yes, we love that in-between space.

Yeah. That's the part that gets the tension. That's where I sat in this. I created an exit, but I hope that whoever goes after me stays with it, and doesn’t take an easy way out.

Is there anything we haven't talked about that you want to talk about?

Art, to me, is not meant to be predictable. In life in general, if you're going against the current to try to make something make sense, you're going to burn yourself out. There may not be an answer. In this particular case, there really wasn't. That's the beautiful thing about art, and the beautiful thing about life. Two plus two does not always equal four. There isn't always a clear answer. We don't have a guidebook. If someone was always there to tell us what to do, life would be meaningless. If I had gone into this with a clear plan, I wouldn't have had the experience that I had.

Would you do it again?

Yes. It was beautiful, and so crazy. That's what this is: bonkers.

Do you have any advice for another artist approaching this for the first time?

Yes. Don't go into this with any expectations whatsoever, good, bad or indifferent. Wait for the email. And if you don't feel inspired at any point, get inspired by the feeling of not being inspired. There's always a solution.

Call Number: M86VA | M88VA.wiDe

Kate Williams is an interdisciplinary artist based in Brooklyn, New York. Drawing inspiration from her love of light and shadow, Kate’s work primarily explores the interplay of reality and deception through visual illusion, object manipulation, and spatial relationships. Kate is also a Creative Arts Therapist and plans to pursue a PhD in Art Therapy and Neuroscience in hopes of bridging the gap between art and science.