Charlotte Gudmundsson is as unique as they come...even though she's an identical twin! Half Icelandic and half
Swedish, Charlotte and her family have lived all over the world, settling in places as far flung as Thailand, South Korea, Syria, and Sri Lanka. With such an unconventional upbringing, it's no wonder Charlotte has taken the path less traveled in her adult years. On her own, she chose to study art at Parsons in Paris, which landed her, two years later, at Parsons in New York City.
Charlotte pursued a degree in illustration because, as she says, it tells a story in a visual way. Her art has been shown in various galleries, including Greenpoint Gallery in Brooklyn and The Bottle Shop in Paris. Currently, her work is available for purchase on
Le Baz'art, a site that connects emerging artists with art-lovers, and acts as a place where "novice and seasoned collectors alike [can] purchase quality, progressive artwork...by young, talented artists." She was also interviewed (yes, they beat me!) on
the great pumpkin by way of collaborating with the vegetarian supper club, Brooklyn Fork and Spoon. And though she's only twenty-five, Charlotte has already embarked on an artistic career as a designer for
Astor Wines & Spirits in downtown Manhattan. An all around delightful person with a passion for food, wine, travel, and fantasy, I was truly excited to uncover all that contributes to Charlotte's creative --- and contagious --- energy.
No-Alternative: Growing up, you lived in nine different countries on three
continents. How has this upbringing affected your personal relationship
with art, and how has it inspired you? Do you have a favorite place,
city, or country in terms of artistic inspiration?
Charlotte Gudmundsson: Growing up in nine different countries has
definitely shaped my relationship with art. As I moved around so much, it
was difficult at times to adjust to a new school, new groups of friends,
and a new city. I always had a crazy imagination when I was little, and
it would provide a hiding place, a source of comfort that I could enter
and feel familiar. I would create whole stories and characters and make
them real by putting them on paper. What I do now is pretty much the
same thing: making tangible fantastical ideas, so that others can be a
part of them as well.
As for a favorite place, I would probably say the spooky pine
forests around my family's house in Småland, southern Sweden. There's
just something very, very old about them, where many things have
happened unnoticed, and where living things are hidden by the shadows of
the pine trees and layers of moss and lichen. It makes me curious and makes me
want to explore.
There's something childlike and sometimes darkly sweet about your illustrations, but then there's the Explosions
series, which is far more sexual. How would you describe your general
aesthetic and your biggest influences? And is there one particular
drawing or set that you feel encapsulates you as a
person/artist?
There are two things that have greatly inspired
me and my work. One is the art that came out of Germany and Austria at
the turn of the century, from around 1900-1930. The other is nature and
all the bizarre animals that populate it.
Die Brücke and the Wiener Werkstätte, two very disparate groups
that formed in Berlin and Vienna respectively, both shared similar views
that I find incredibly interesting. Die Brücke, which was founded by
the expressionist painter Ernst Ludwig Kirchner and his friends in
Dresden in 1905, believed that through the revival of old, traditional
media such as woodcuts, combined with a rejection of academically
approved subjects, they could create a 'bridge' between the past and the
future. The Wiener Werkstätte, a production company of visual artists
in Vienna founded in 1903, didn't form as casually, but they had the
same anti-establishment sentiments when they formed. Their mission was
to design art that was accessible to everyone, using traditional media
and paying close attention to craftsmanship. I especially love how the
artists of the Wiener Werkstätte didn't limit themselves to one field;
Koloman Moser, who was an incredible painter and illustrator, also
worked in glass, woodworking and furniture design. Their approach that
art should be useful and enjoyed by everyone is something I really take
to heart.
The natural world, on the other hand, is where I find the most
fascinating forms and characters. Some of the bizarre creatures that
exist are just so fascinating to me because they are so alien --- like the
5-foot long Giant Salamander of China, the largest amphibian in the
world. What a monster! It doesn't take much more than thinking about
such a strange thing for me to get ideas about stories and characters --- I
imagine this is how fairy tales and legends start.
Concerning my 'Explosive' series, it was a bit outside of my usual
style of drawing. I was given an assignment in a class to explore the
theme 'sexuality'. At the time I was playing around with different
watercolor and india ink techniques. The idea I had, that sexuality, if
contained or repressed, will still manifest itself, but then in more
violent, uncontrolled means. It's best if you embrace it and have fun
with it. I thought it would work out very well with the splashy
watercolor effects I was playing around with at the time, and I think it
came together really well. Even though it does look different from my
other work, I think I was enjoying the technicalities of painting just
as much as I would creating a screen print.
If I was to choose one drawing that would define my work, I think
it would have to be the little 'dreaming' hair monster. He's turning his
dreams into a beautiful, valuable and tangible object, with a bit of
cranking.
What's your ideal drawing environment in terms of light, sound, vibe, locale, etc?
I am not too particular about my setting when I
work. Ideally, it should be fairly distraction-free, but I don't worry
too much about a specific light/time of day or something like that. I do
love blasting the Knife or Fever Ray when I'm working --- Karin and Olof
Dreijer are my absolute favorite musicians in the world. Their music
provides the perfect mix of energy, kookiness and creepy humor which I
hope to imbue my work with.
You've painted two murals in Brooklyn --- how
do you decide what to paint when the canvas is so public and highly
viewed? And is there a certain way you go about brainstorming for a mural and then
putting it all together?
When deciding on what to paint for the two
(fairly) recent murals I did, I definitely took into account WHO I was
painting it for. The first one, which was completely public, was for
Jane's Closet, a clothing store on Grand Street by Bedford Avenue in
Brooklyn. The owners of Jane's Closet are inviting artists to paint a
mural on the wall adjacent to their store, which stay up for a few
months before changing. Because of the temporal nature of this project, I
never felt like it was going to be too "precious". The owner of the
store is a big animal friend just like me, and she has an adorable
cocker spaniel named Ginger. So, I decided to include Ginger in a mural,
along with a menagerie to keep her company! I wasn't too concerned with
matching the identity of the store too closely, but I made sure to
include them as credit.
The other mural I painted was for Amplify, an
initiative organized by the New School's DESIS Lab (Design for Social
Innovation and Sustainability). This wasn't exactly "public" --- it was in
the courtyard of the St. Nick's Alliance building in Williamsburg. For
this I took an equally playful approach; I wanted to paint a city
landscape that was colorful and whimsical, which reflects how I see NYC.
The city is really a playground, not an urban wasteland --- there are
opportunities everywhere for improvement.
As a full-time designer for Astor Wines &
Spirits, which have been your favorite, or most gratifying, projects so
far?
The best thing I got to do when working at Astor
Wines was designing three wine labels for Astor's private label
"Erdenlied". It came in three varietals, two white and one red: a Gruner
Veltliner, a Riesling and a Zweigelt. Not only did this allow me to tap
into my obsession with the Wiener Werkstatte design style, it would also
result in a tangible product that thousands of people would purchase
and enjoy. The manager of Astor's private labels came up with the name
"Erdenlied," which means "Song of the Earth," based on a symphony by
Gustav Mahler, a composer who hung out with all the Wiener Werkstatte
guys in the first decade of the 1900's --- in other words a fantastically
evocative name. After a number of rounds of designs, I ended up creating
a decorative floral illustration that I hoped would reflect the flavors
of the wine.
Art is literally your livelihood --- from your job at Astor to
commissioned work --- but I'm wondering how art-as-work might change its
personal value. How do you feel about getting paid for art?
And do you still have time and/or the desire to do art for art's sake?
Working as a full-time graphic
designer/ merchandiser at Astor has really been a wonderful
experience. I unfortunately have hardly any spare time to work on my own
projects, projects I initiate not out of financial interest but out of a
need to not let the ball stop rolling --- I don't want to let myself
stall too much on my own projects. Of course, getting paid for your work
is immensely gratifying. Creating work for a client and on your free
time isn't too different...the only difference is having a shorter
deadline when you're creating something for a client.
Along a similar train of thought, you studied art formally at The
New School, in both New York and Paris. Were you ever worried about
your decision to pursue art as a major and, ultimately, as a career? And
do you think it's necessary for aspiring or budding artists to study
art in a classroom setting?
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based on a visit to a fortune teller |
Personally I never worried about choosing to pursue art as a
career. It was a decision I very single-mindedly made when I was still
in high school, and I didn't give a second thought to the difficulties I
would have to face with such a path. I just KNEW I wanted to make art
and draw for a living, and really didn't think anything beyond that
mattered. As long as I was trying to do this I'd be happy. I realize
that this sounds fairly simple, but it was also a decision I made based
on a lot of self-analysis, and considering what my personal strengths,
weaknesses and inclinations were, and what I thought I would do well in.
In some part I think I wanted to stand out from among my siblings too ---
they all pursued "sensible" fields, either political science or
engineering.
I definitely didn't get my best grades in Art in High School; in
fact, I did much better in English. Going to school for Illustration was
definitely a good idea too. Art school was a great experience,
but I did find value in different places than I thought I would. It
wasn't so much about the techniques and skills I learned there (although
I loved all the printmaking classes I took and wish I had the same
access to their amazing facilities now), but more about the people I
met there and the close friends I made. I also have stayed in touch with
many of my professors, which has been a great help for me in trying to
stand on my own feet after graduation.
I often wonder how an artist measures his/her success. How do you
feel you've personally grown --- as an artist or otherwise --- in the
past few years?
The biggest realization I've come to make in the past few years
is that you can really only rely on yourself to make things happen. In
order to get anywhere or for anything to happen, you have to initiate it
yourself, and not just sit and wait for things to come for you. This
definitely applies to me personally as well as for my work, and it is
something I struggle with everyday. I don't want to be complacent or
comfortable, I want to go out and take chances and seize opportunities.
As for measuring my own success, the only yardstick I have for that is
myself. As long as I make things that I myself am happy and proud of,
then I feel like I've been successful in that venture. You can never
please everyone, but you can please yourself!
Your boyfriend, with whom you live, is also an artist/illustrator/animator. What's it like for two artists to date?
My boyfriend, Garrett, studied traditional animation, and we
actually worked together on a project, an animated short film, before we
were going out. He was the animation director and I was inking pencil
sketches --- he was actually the best boss I've had so far. I don't think
it's too different from any other two people who date. We may do things a
little differently in certain situations: e.g. if we're both sitting
in a restaurant together with a paper tablecloth, both of us are
guaranteed to start doodling all over the table. We also might make each
other little hand-drawn cards for special occasions.
One of the sets you showcased on your blog is "a series of
illustrations inspired by songs [you] obsessively listen to." Tell us
more!
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Charlotte in Sweden |
This is a serialized project I started as a motivation to keep
making work regularly. The idea is just to take one of my favorite
songs, or a song I've been listening to on repeat recently, and make a
drawing of it. I see it as a little mental exercise. The first (and only
one) was of "Kino" by The Knife, which is a very playful electronic song
that makes me think of a Chinese video game with strange creatures. I
drew it on lots of tiny paint chips from the hardware store to reflect
the rhythmic, fragmented nature of the song.
Last but not least... say I wanted to buy a bottle of wine tonight (from Astor Wine & Spirits, of course). What do you recommend?
One of my favorite wines I've tried is a white wine from Burgundy
called "La Boheme." It's a natural wine, meaning the grapes were grown
organically and the wine was made with minimal intervention: no
sulfites, extra sugar or anything else added. It's so delicious slightly
chilled, perfect for a beautiful May evening. As a plus, it's also got a
funny label, and a good price, for around $12.
(all artwork by Charlotte Gudmundsson)