Ariana Papademetropoulos: Glass Reverie Interview with the LA-based artist on her show in Paris

Interview by Pedro Vasconcelos

Lying in a bed inside an aquarium with peaceful music blasting in my ears, the world around me is slightly distorted as fish go by. There’s an uncanny sense of calm. “That’s what I wanted people to feel; it’s supposed to be the ultimate relaxing experience.” That’s what Ariana Papademetropoulos tells me right after I leave her installation piece, Water Based Treatment, the crowning jewel in her solo exhibit in Paris, Glass Slipper. I meet the Los Angeles-based artist inside the gallery Thaddaeus Ropac in the heart of the Marais. It’s a beautiful morning, and the sun is shining through the windows of the monumental room Glass Slipper is in, framed as an altar in a surreal church. Large-scale paintings devoid of human presence are hung high. “I wanted it to feel like a religious space.”

Papademetropoulos walks me through the exhibit, carefully explaining the telephone booths where recordings of her conversation with a psychic can be heard and the multiple still life paintings of a microwave. It’s a rare act for an artist, one that invites interpretation. “It’s silly to think artists are meant to describe everything.” It’s understandable; her work is deeply personal. Building on Jungian psychological archetypes and a mythological femininity, the artist explores parallel realms to our own. Glass Slipper, for example, documents the struggle to “find magic” during a hard time. Thankfully, here, Papademetropoulos lets us join in on the journey to discuss artistic freedom, astral travelling, and an artist’s right not to explain their art. [...]

You work across different mediums. Do you feel like they speak to different sides of you or does all your creativity have the same source?

I’ve always painted, but it's not because I’m necessarily a painter, it's just what I could afford to do. I think that the paintings got larger and larger because I’ve always wanted to go into installation, but I just didn’t have the resources. Their size was a way for me to immerse people in them. I didn’t have the resources for, for example, making an aquarium or a telephone booth as I’ve done for this show. [...]

Would you then call yourself an artist over a painter?

I like saying I'm a painter, because I think it's less pretentious. it’s nice to have a skill attached to what you do. It's humbler. But I think, as time goes on, I'll probably expand more into installations and video work. 

You bring up an interesting point: the mediums you are exploring require more production and, with it, a loss of control, in a way. Is that something that concerns you?

I'm so psycho that I don’t think it does. I need to be involved in every step of the process. Even the films I’ve made, I’m the one editing. [...]

Do you feel the same way about having people interpret your work? Do you ever feel the need to explain the intention behind your art?

 No at all. I prefer when people interpret. That’s what keeps art alive. When you don’t fully understand it then you can ruminate. Why do people like the Mona Lisa so much? Because we don’t understand her expression. Why do we love David Lynch? Because we can’t figure out the endings. I think our culture is so interested in having a big bow tied on it to understand something, but I actually think that kind of kills it. It’s silly to think artists are meant to describe everything. I make images. That's what I'm good at, creating images, creating feelings, creating visceral reactions. I’m open to how they can spark ideas because I’m also just beginning to understand it

Your work has an appeal that extends beyond the confines of a gallery. I knew your exhibit was in town because I saw the aquarium on social media. How do you feel about that online attention?

 The art world can be tricky about it. Art can sometimes be made for the elite. I would rather make things for people. If it brings joy to someone like the ordinary person who wouldn't go to a gallery, I think that's nice. And if it gets to reach more people, I think that's okay. It feels more generous. Just like when I was a kid and saw art for the first time, it’s nice to think I’m exposing someone to this world in a similar way.