… it was an elephant, made up of other animals bound together by some kind of magnetic gravitational force.”
KA: Do you have a plan when you start a piece or is it something that happens organically as you are working?
LB: When I first made the creatures they were very complicated for me to visualize. Starting with creating form out of animals, and trying to keep the representations faithful. So, at first, I had to make a “map” of the animal—a drawing—labeled and loosely sketched out. When I started to build a different animal (e.g., rhino, giraffe, zebra, octopus) I would make a new map. Now that I have a couple of years practice under my belt, I don’t need to make detailed plans or sketches, I can pretty much visualize the creature in 3-D and work from my head.
I definitely have a plan when I start a new piece, and I make a quick sketch. It is usually based on a specific encounter or a word that I am interested in. For example, I was thinking a lot about how the creature was built, what’s inside… how is it held together. I was almost obsessed with the idea that the creature is in constant motion, boiling, with animals churning and resurfacing, while they are fighting and writhing and killing and fucking. So I made pieces that fleshed out that idea for a while. I made creatures crash into each other, causing the birds on the surface to fly away, like in the piece titled “Battle Royale” of two zebra creatures fighting. I think the creatures are like the mythical God Pan, they instill panic or fear or lunacy in whatever is around them.
All that said, the final image never looks like the initial sketch. I am not rigid in the development, I let go of my intentions when I start the piece and I just react to the work as I make it.
KA: After you decide on the main animal image how do you choose each animal you are going to use as a component?
LB: Choosing which animals I use is dictated, in my new work, by endangered or extinct animals and plants. Then, it usually depends on color, pattern, or size for what kind of animal I will use. I have a huge database of images, many that I shot at the San Diego Zoo. I comb through the folders for the next body part. Some animals are “regulars,” such as parrot wings for rib cages, or rams for front legs. So far, the animals are not categorized by theme. The one exception to that was a piece in the Minotaur show at David B. Smith Gallery. I made a mandala of the animals killed in Zanesville, when Terry Thompson released the animals in his preserve and then killed himself.
KA: There seems to be a huge explosion of eco-surrealism, especially among younger contemporary artists. Would you agree? If so, do you feel part of that movement?
LB: When I started using the animals to make the creature, it was to animate a “human” psyche, so I still felt like it was acting out human repressed impulses. Even though I use animals, the human is still present. Now that I am motivated to bring attention to the shocking number of endangered species, I think I need to reconsider the “eco-didacticism” of the work.
The prevalence of imagery using animals/nature as a primary subject matter could just be a popular visual trend, but I think it might reflect larger
social impulses, both to simplify our lives and to connect with things that feel natural and real. People can view animals as outsiders, as non-participants and as innocents. They can be anthropomorphized to express any situation or emotion. I would like to think that it is a reflection of the growing awareness of the importance of retaining the biodiversity of the planet, and how vulnerable that is. Also, people are waking up the indisputable fact that animals are sentient beings that cannot be treated inhumanely. It would be wonderful if the rise of nature in art could lead to a greater respect for the natural world through carefully made choices in the consumer environment.