Expatriate artist Caleb Larsen currently lives and works in Tulum, Mexico. He recently spoke with contributor Spencer Young about his sly, conceptual pieces.

I first learned of Caleb Larsen through his piece A Tool to Deceive and Slaughter, a seemingly innocuous black box that grows more insidious and revolutionary the closer you look. Always connected to the Internet via an Ethernet cable (just one of the many stipulations each new owner agrees to), A Tool is perpetually attempting to auction itself online. The result is an art piece that, through each new winning bid, generates money and motion (theoretically) ad infinitum. I recently caught up with Caleb to talk about the importance of this work during current economic woes and his émigré lifestyle.

SY: So you’ve been living in Tulum, Mexico for the past year. Why Tulum? And what’s on the horizon?

CL: We (me, my wife Marci, and our wiener dog Tugboat) moved to Tulum (a town of 3,000 people on the Caribbean coast) on a whim last August. The plan was to stay for three months. Nearly a year later, we are still living here. It’s cheap, reasonably accessible, very international (lots of South American and European expats), and we are 3km from the beach. The living experience here is a mix between an old blues song and a beer ad.

While living in paradise is admittedly pretty nice, it can also get very boring, tiresome, and deadening. I’m something of a workaholic, so living in a place where people basically lie around on the beach all day is… challenging at times to say the least. To counter the ennui, every few months I need to escape from paradise and return to the real world and get little bit of city in me.

My wife has been volunteering at an orphanage in the small town of Ocozocoautla de Espinosa (Coita for short) in Chiapas, Mexico off and on for the last six months so we are in the process of debating whether we will move to Coita for a few months or stay in Tulum or return to the US.

SY: Tulum sounds interesting despite inducing lethargy. What would you suggest I do there if I were to visit for, say, a week or two?

CL: Tulum’s big claim to fame are Mayan Ruins; cenotes (giant caves with underground lakes and rivers), and white sand beaches. That is pretty much it. If one were to visit, I would say rent a car, see some ruins (Coba is good; you can climb the giant pyramid), swim in a Cenote (Dos Ojos and Grand Cenote are couple good ones) and then go snorkeling at Yel-ku or just along the reef. Then, sit on the beach, drink a few Micheladas and enjoy the super blue water. Its basic tourist stuff, but it is quite fun really.

SY: How has living in Mexico affected your artistic practice?

CL: Since I am still in the middle of the experience it is hard to say specifically right now how Mexico has influenced my work. But some of the things that have really had an impression on me: the apparent love for bureaucracy coupled with the pervasive corruption, the rigid city planning along with the ad hoc shacks and palapas built in the interstitial space, and the massive disparity between economic classes (the official daily minimum wage is about $4/day or about the cost of 4 tacos). There are a lot of things at work here, and I am still making sense of them. Ask me again next year, and I will probably have more articulate answer.

SY: A Tool to Deceive and Slaughter is similar to another work of yours, $10,000 Sculpture (In Progress), a bill acceptor imbedded in a white wall whose goal is to accumulate its titled amount. Both function in an autotelic manner, or as a means in and of themselves. Could you comment on this conceptual approach as well as the obvious economic component involved?

CL: Both of these pieces are continuous cycles. For a long time I was interested in work that presented an experience that existed on a continuum, something where the activity of the piece actually leads to a sort of stasis. For example, with the perpetual auction listing in A Tool, one can approach the transactional nature of the work at any given time. Since it is always in flux, the uncertainty of the work becomes one of its static elements. A similar thing is happening with $10,000 Sculpture. Once it reaches $10,000 (which will probably take a while), there is a contract that stipulates that the collector must split the ten grand with the artist (me) and then work starts over again from zero. Like Sisyphus, once you reach your goal, you are thrown the bottom of the hill and you need to start over again.

Both of these pieces are part of a body of work that takes an impishly optimistic approach to the problem of how to make money as an artist. In the case of these two pieces, the solution was to treat the artwork not just as a commodity, but as an actual money making apparatus.

SY: Both works are genius and salient, especially in today’s sloughing economy. How have both fared financially?

CL: Thanks! They’ve been doing quite well. A Tool is now in the home of its second collector. And $10,000 Sculpture has collected about $150. I am looking forward to seeing how it continues to progress.

SY: What can we look forward to in 2010 from Caleb Larsen? More art world provocation?

CL: I’ve got a couple of things in the works—primarily dealing in paradoxes and internal contradictions. Right now I am working on a series of prints that look skeptically at the solidity of what we hold as scientific fact. What we may have once held as irrevocable truth, is now considered folly and what we now consider truth might equally be considered completely absurd by future generations. Again, putting things in constant flux. Also, for the last year I’ve been working on a suite of projects: photos, sculptures, text pieces all about being stuck in paradise—or rather trying to escape from paradise. As I mentioned before, every so often I need to get away and leave this perfect little world.

For more, visit caleblarsen.com

Today, frequent Talk contributor Helen Schumacher profiles jewelry designer Angela Barrow.

Angela Barrow is a Brooklyn-based jewelry designer who molds colorful textiles into bracelets, rings, headbands and earrings. Trademark items range from big, chunky braided necklaces in metallic-dot spandex fabric to knotted and twisted Rastafarian-print cotton belts. And, for the more adventurous, there are “sass-penders,” Angela’s stylish and feminine modification of suspenders. With a background in fashion design, fabric was a natural choice for Angela to use in her accessories line, Cheek-ie.

“I am more familiar with textiles and prefer to use fabrics instead of gold or silver,” says Angela. “I personally don’t like the feel of cold metal on my skin. It’s creepy!” The use of fabric instead of metal is also a matter of comfort for the designer. “I am also one of those people that sleeps and showers in their jewelry, especially bracelets.”

Angela’s first sartorial experimentations came from games of dress-up using a costume bin at her church that was set aside to entertain children during services. From there she graduated to dressing up and making accessories for her cats (”They were good sports,” she says.) to serving as the costume designer for school musicals. She briefly abandoned fashion to study film in Los Angeles, before returning to her home state of Virginia to earn a BFA in fashion design.

While in college, Angela started selling her handmade jewelry at craft fairs in Richmond that her friends organized. The venture was well supported in the community, and became a source of income while she was in school. “I started making gun earrings, because in Richmond every punk girl needs a gun earring!” says Angela.

After graduating and moving to New York City, she started selling her creations at a t-shirt shop in the Lower East Side, and began expanding Cheek-ie from there. Though there was some initial experimentation with antique brass and gold charms, Angela quickly got bored. “I expanded the line to include more things, and before I made the switch to fabrics I used cotton cording as well as silk tread and braided those into chains, essentially cutting out the need for metal. From there, the rest is history.”

In both Virginia and New York, Angela has relied on her friends to help fuel her creativity. “Luckily a majority of my friends are artists, musicians, foodies, and designers, so there is never a dull moment. I am constantly going to see art, listening to music, eating at my friends restaurants.” She also loves to travel, often using her excursions to scout out different vintage fabrics.

In addition to jewelry design, Angela works as a freelance stylist. The two gigs seem complement each other. “I love both jobs equally; my styling jobs have certainly paid for my jewelry supplies, and rent especially,” Angela says. “I have definitely used my jewelry on photo shoots and sometimes make new clients out of the crew.”

Besides plans to switch over to using entirely vintage fabrics in her collections, Angela’s future ambitions also include expanding the line outside the United States. “I would love to expand my line overseas, especially in Europe and Japan. Right now I have two stores overseas and counting.” She says she also hopes to offer more accessories, such as gloves, scarves and bags and to continue collaborating with more designers, creating one-off pieces for their lines. “All this requires money and lots of it, so I will gradually get there. I’m in no rush right now—unless a big check comes my way!”

For more information, or to check out more of Angela’s creations, visit cheek-ie.com

Rhode Island artist and steelworker Nate Nadeau uses his welding skills to create large, ironic signs evoking both street art and 1950’s Americana. He recently took the time to answer some of our questions about his background, work, and philosophy.

Where did you grow up? Where’d you go to school/what for? How has this background informed your work?

Seekonk, MA. I attended Rhode Island College for 3D fine arts. Growing up here and keeping healthy relationships with people has helped me and my business grow. I grew up hanging out in my current studio when my father used to use it as an auto-body shop. I like to think a lot of my working class attitude and inspiration stem from this environment.

How’d you end up in Pawtucket? What’s the art scene like there? Or is the art scene mostly in Providence?

I grew up a few miles from Providence and a few blocks from Pawtucket. After a five-month stint in Las Vegas on charges of “stupidity to think LV was a good place to move to,” I returned the prodigal son and continued my schooling in Providence.

Pawtucket has had a spirit of artistic rejuvenation over the last few years due to outrageous property inflation in Providence, but it’s been a slow process. However, PVD and Pawt are minutes if not seconds away from each other. Semantics, I guess. My studio is family owned so my father and I share it when we’re not arguing. Even though everything is so close I’ve shared plenty of studio and I have to say, I enjoy the seclusion.

How’d you get involved with the Steelyard? What exactly do (did?) you do there? What do you like about it?

The guys who started it were customers that came into a bar I worked in during my last year in school. That’s where the relationship began. I literally walked out of the records office with my diploma in September, got in my car, drove directly to the SY and signed as one of the first locker residency spots to date. The organization was just a thought inside its parents’ brains at the time. That was six-ish years ago. It’s come a long way.

Over the years I’ve run the welding department, taught classes, sat on committees and mainly worked with the for-profit (public projects) division, outfitting the city with custom bike racks, kiosks, benches, garbage cans etc. I currently sit on the board.

I like everything about it. I believe in this institution and pretty much only this one. I feel like the about page on the site does it justice: http://thesteelyard.org/explore/about

What’s a typical day like for you?

Haha….doing as little as possible. No, I wake up around 9am. Hang out with my daughter for a bit. Head down to my studio and balance my day between my own art work and whatever people pay me to make for them. Sometimes I work for five hours. Sometimes I work for 15 hrs. Whatever it takes to get it done. At some point in the day, which varies, I spend hours on my computer emailing, putting together invoices, designing future work (for myself and others) and researching pertinent stuff for my trade and artwork.

What types of materials do you typically work with?

Whatever I can. Steel is my strong suit, but I’ve also used wood, spray paint, automotive paint, ceramics, polycarbonates, LEDs, electrical (wiring and lighting units), plexiglass, stencils, vinyl…whatever the design calls for. This can be frustrating but challenging.

What attracted you to steelwork as opposed to other, less labor-intensive mediums? What are its unique challenges?

Every time I’m welding on a hot day or in a small area or moving something heavy I say, “I should have been a painter or graphic designer!” I guess the most direct answer is that I like working with my hands and steel seemed to be what I understood best. I like to think the other mediums just add to my arsenal.

Also, sitting here typing for an hour makes my back hurt, but standing on my feet all day doing labor intensive projects seems to leave me more satisfied, in less pain and not a fat blob (due to my chocolate addiction).

Let’s talk about your signs. I love the idea of turning that retro aesthetic around into something kind of subversive. What gave you the idea to work in the idiom of signs?

You know, I’ve had tons of ideas for mediums and aesthetics over the years. None of them seemed worth giving up more of my time and money to balance the risk of going broke. One day a friend and I were talking and we came up with the idea and I never looked back. It included all the stuff I wanted to work with. Mainly metal. Then color, aging, lights, words and layers of possible interpretation for anyone viewing them. A couple of other great aspects that feel right are history (that the shape and font context iterates) and remembering the diminishing trade of sign painting.

I see a little bit of street art creeping into some of your signs–what gave you the idea to incorporate that? What message are you sending by combining two rather disparate aesthetics?

Well, I merit a portion my work on originality on levels that are lacking in other forms of art. I have a formula. I plug all the components in and see what comes out. I think its very important that an artist reflects his/her culture and surroundings. This plays a big part in successful street art, even at its vaguest moment. Art in general is an undocumented scholar-less history written by the people in it. It’s been going on since we invented fire. Artists don’t have to follow a one-sided history book. Some of the stuff in my work is a mockery/homage of current/past art forms and historical events. I’m just trying to explain what I’ve seen and learned through out my life.

Street art wise…What I don’t want to do is ride on the coattails of solely current political issues (good or bad). I’m not saying it’s wrong or I don’t reference them, but there are infinite historical issues with relevance to where we are today. I guess another point is my long held disdain for authority and my dead love for graffiti. If you add those together it seems impossible to not put these components into your work.

How did your business Iron Origami come into being? What types of projects do you do for people there?

I asked myself, “I paid and worked my way through through school for what?” It’s very difficult to seize a career doing anything close to what you want or what you go to college for. I didn’t want to be that person. I worked every day from the second I graduated on trying to build a business of my own. A life of my own. As long as I can make it work, I feel free. This comes with a cost. Having your own business no matter how small or large is tough but its well worth it. I’ve also been very fortunate to have amazing people around me to help in every way possible. Oh, and a friend and I were talking and we came up with the name.

When people ask me what I do I never know how to answer. I just say yes to any job. Then I try to figure it out. One summer I fabricated 12 large-scale planters for a busy street in downtown Providence. The trick was that they needed to house trees. The sidewalks were vaulted and they couldn’t plant directly. I spent a large amount of time researching how to keep the tree alive. The city forester referred me to a very nice woman in NYC who helped answer every question I had. How much soil is needed, what caliber tree could be used, what type of tree they could be used for, how much insulation is needed to keep it from dying during the winter, should the planters be modular etc. Then I price, design, and build them. Believe it or not, there aren’t very many large-scale planters for trees around America.

Currently my most exciting project is trying to figure out how to build a modular, energy efficient shipping container for retail/commercial space. Of course there are many other knowledgeable and enthusiastic people involved.

What do you have coming up in the future that you are excited about?

I’m trying to take my metalworking/sculpture skills and make 3D graffiti. The photo below is a prototype. I would have liked to have had finished it for the show but I ran out of time, money and steel.

As far as more signs go I have plenty of ideas to keep me busy. One show I’d like to do down the line is a sad reference to past events that have shaped our world for the worst. Stuff that disgusts and saddens me and which we as a human race can’t turn back from. I want to try to capture that single moment that altered history forever. I want to capture the essence and emotion but retain my own canvas (my signs) Now 7-10 of these in a line could potentially leave a lasting impact on the viewer. I guess we’ll just have to see how they come out. If I conveyed these events properly, I would follow it up with happy/inspiring moments for the next series!

For more, visit www.natenadeau.com

Carissa Ackerman is the designer and creator of the playful and ultra-feminine line Mandate of Heaven. With the launch of a new line of reproducible clothes and a recently-opened shop in one of Brooklyn’s most exciting neighborhoods, she took the time to share with contributor Alix McAlpine what her unique brand is all about.

AM: How long have you been designing clothes? Is it something you went to school for, or are you self-taught?

CA: I’ve loved visual art of all kinds for as long as I can remember. My mom has amazing style, and I began experimenting with my own sartorial representation as soon as I was old enough to dress myself. In school, I was always the kid with the crazy outfit on- or the one drawing all over my notebook. I didn’t start sewing seriously, though, until college. I actually majored in Art History at NYU, but I took classes in costume history and studio art as well, and completed a night course in design at Parsons. My friend Nick Olsen and I started Mandate of Heaven out of my dorm room our freshman year. At first we sewed everything by hand, but eventually Nick taught himself, and then me, how to use a sewing machine.

AM: Your store has been in a number of locations in the past few years, can you tell me about your recent move to Bushwick? What do you like about the neighborhood and what is different there from your previous Grand Street location?

CA: Bushwick is an awesome place to be right now. The uniquely urban romance of its rather gritty industrial landscape provides an apropos atmosphere for creativity brimming behind so many of its facades, while the constant buzz of local families and young people softens the street scene with an unexpected warmth and humanity. It feels a lot like South Williamsburg did when we first moved there five years ago.

I think its no secret that many of us have come here because we have been priced out of the aforementioned little neighborhood to our west; however, we’re most definitely happy to have a lovely new place to live in the city we love. Most neighborhoods- particularly in New York - are full of their own individual aesthetic beauty and local character, if one cares to take the time to look; and this little chunk of Brooklyn has got it all in spades. However, it’s really always the people the make a neighborhood great- we’re just crossing our fingers that Bushwick can continue to prosper without forcing out the artists, longtime locals and various others that are currently building it into something truly special.

AM: For the past few seasons, Mandate of Heaven has put out video slideshows to preview its new line instead of a traditional still-photo lookbook. Can you tell me about the decision to present the clothes in this manner?

CA: Fit, silhouette and motion are very important elements to my work; I design my pieces with the third dimension very much in mind. Often, in an effort to demonstrate every interesting facet of a garment, we’ll end up posting a seemingly inordinate amount of images, usually in sequential order. One day it dawned on me that I could get what I needed to across even more effectively if I just strung those images together to create animation, like a virtual flip book. Some people prefer the ease of a still image, so we try to include regular pictures with the videos whenever possible. However, the great thing about viewing a slideshow is that you actually have hundreds of stills to look over if you’d like; just press pause. Also, it’s really fun to see our friends moving around like awkward cartoons.

AM: Your web site mentions that you use “mostly recycled fabrics” - why use recycled fabrics as opposed to buying swatches of fabric at a retailer? Does this sometimes pose problems in the construction of the garments?

CA: We use recycled fabric for several reasons: first of all, because of the abundance and beauty of such fabric available; second, because a lot of that beauty and abundance might otherwise go to waste; third, because we don’t want to add to that waste by buying a bunch of new fabric and creating scraps we can’t necessarily use; fourth, because it’s such an interesting and rewarding way to work; and finally, because it creates such interesting and rewarding garments.

Constructing garments in this way can definitely get super complicated…thanks for asking! However, it’s totally worth it, and I’m lucky enough to have the help of an amazing little team.

AM: Mandate of Heaven has always seemed very playful and whimsical, and the newest line looks to pull even more towards costume-like than previous seasons. Can you talk about what it means to have fun with clothes/take risks with your wardrobe?

CA: Playful and whimsical I’ll definitely take. However, I’d like to point out that the particularly “costume” feeling of the newest collection is more due to the fairy tale theme and presentation than the actual garments. There’s also a lot of layering going on, which adds to the illusion. If you look closely, a lot of the garments involved are pretty versatile; which is actually underscored by their layer-ability! As the rest of the Fall 10 videos and stills come out, all this will probably become a little more apparent.

That said, I am all for having fun with clothes -which I’m sure is obvious. Many people take their sartorial expression way too seriously; and, in doing so, turn getting dressed into a chore- or, worse, an instrument of social conformity. To such folks, I’d like to say this: chill out y’all, it’s just clothes.

Perhaps, too, what I really object to is the imagined distinction between “costume” and regular clothing. If you really get into definitions, this distinction is semantic fiction- the term “costume”, most simply, just refers to any particular style of dress. However, we tend to use it to describe an outfit that is incongruent with the identity of the person wearing it- i.e., you put on a Halloween “costume” to pretend you are someone (or thing) that you’re not.

Amusingly, though, people often use the excuse of “costume” to wear things that they’re drawn to, but afraid to try out in “real life” - a sartorial identity crisis that frequently demonstrates deeper issues. Certainly the abolition of many such issues might make many people a little happier, and perhaps a higher threshold of social acceptance for experimental dress could be a good step towards achieving this goal. Ok, sorry for the rant…. but it’s an interesting subject.

AM: If money were not an object, would you ever consider mass-producing your line? Why or why not?

CA: Absolutely. Our new line, Opiate, is completely reproducible. For us, it’s all about conscientious creation. We would love to make Opiate available to as many people as possible, but only if we were able to implement that availability in a socially responsible way. This criteria makes things considerably more tricky; but also, I think, much more worthwhile.

You can find Mandate of Heaven at their new space on 158 Cook Street in Bushwick; they’re open Tuesdays and Thursdays 1-7pm, and Saturdays 1-6pm. Check them out at their Online store, Twitter, and Blog.

Contributor Ezra Morris interviews Atlanta-based artist Kenn Two Four.

Kenn Two Four has been a presence in the Atlanta art and music scenes since the late 1980s. He has run venues, promoted shows, been an integral part of various record labels and played guitar in The Power & The Glory, Downpour and The Weight. In the past few years he has branched out into design work and visual art.

EM: You have a long history involved in music as a musician and promoter. What in your background led you to your current place as a visual artist?

KT: After The Power & The Glory started to slow down I still felt the need to be creative so I started thinking about doing something new, something visual. I had been dabbling in design and I was always interested in record covers, skateboard graphics, skulls, etc…when I was nine years old I wanted to be a cartoonist and I was always interested in comic books, and through my involvement in punk, making records and flyers, the visual side of things was always on my mind. As far as getting out there, I accidentally fell into it, a friend of mine’s band was in need of tee shirt designs and I just said “Yeah, I can do that.”

EM: Originally you went into your visual work looking to use it for commercial applications?

KT: Right.

EM: And then you took those skills and eventually started to make your own artwork?

KT: Yeah it was born out of a frustration with trying to meet the needs of clients who really didn’t bring any ideas to the table; they didn’t know what they wanted, they only knew what they didn’t want. And the more shirt designs I did for different clients, the more frustrated I became because I wanted to see my work on something more than a shirt. I wanted it to be a living, breathing thing that people could have. I wanted to get away from having to please a client and do something that I was happy with. I didn’t enjoy that aspect of the work but I enjoyed the process of creating it, so I decided to make my own stuff and see if people responded to that.

EM: When you first started to do your own pieces you were doing prints and then you moved into the paper shadow boxes and now you’re working with wood. What’s that process like for you? From the ground up, what’s your process for creating the pieces?

KT: I have a loose theme that is running through all the artwork I’m doing right now. It’s a storyline I’m crafting, so I create pieces based on what I think I need to further the story.

EM: Is it a concrete linear story or more of a loose visual language?

KT: It is becoming more of a stable story as it goes on. It is solidifying. I’ve created a story centered on a religion and the symbols and their meanings associated with the religion. I’m an atheist but I’ve always been drawn to the aesthetics, symbolism and imagery of various religions. I think it is interesting how much meaning people attach to symbols, and coming from my perspective, these symbols are actually meaningless but believers can get really bent out of shape if these symbols aren’t revered in a certain way. So I’ve created this story that deals with a civilization where certain events happened or didn’t happen, they were interpreted and cobbled together and then presented in a fashion rooted more in hearsay and coincidence and legend. It incorporates mythical elements like any other religion.

EM: So your work is the documenting the signifiers and symbols of the religion?

KT: That and communicating the story of the transmission of the religion. I’m working with the idea of the adaptation of elements of religions that are adopted and interpreted over thousands of years by different groups of people. I’m creating artifacts of ancient people from times before.

EM: So you have this complex frame story that sort of functions as a critique. How does that play into the actual artwork? Do you have the piece in mind and what you aim to communicate with the piece before you make it? Do you go in with the mindset that you want a piece to look a certain way and function in a certain way before you create it? Or do the elements you bring in sometimes dictate how the piece turns out?

KT: I think it is both of those. Like a lot of religions, my stuff is pieces of other elements, cobbled together, so I’m always sifting through different myths and religions and picking out interesting objects or symbols or ideas. I’ll combine them together. I made a calendar based on the seasons and I knew it needed to incorporate crops and the months of the year so I sought out those sorts of elements and recombined them to create a spinning calendar. But because actually creating the design and figuring out how I’m going to physically build it plays into what the end piece looks like, I have to take that into account when I’m looking for elements and conceptualizing the work. How am I going to print this? Am I actually going to be able to cut this out and make it functional? If something is going to be really difficult to cut then…

EM: It’s not going to make the cut. What’s your actual process?

KT: Everything I do is collage work, a lot of it is found imagery, it could be 20 or 30 different sources to create one element, be it a lion’s face or a person’s body. A hand from one place, a face from another, and I try to make the combination as seamless as possible so it looks like it was made all together at the same time. I scan in all the elements, cut them up, modify them, and create the designs digitally. After each element is built I put them together in layers to visualize how the end wood piece will be constructed. Then I screen print the images onto wood that has been treated, painted, and textured using razors, spray paint, and sandpaper, to create a weathered look. Then I cut out the individual elements and build the whole piece.

EM: What’s next for you?

KT: I just did a show with two other guys here in Atlanta, now I’m working on several large pieces for a solo show that will likely be happening early next year. And I’m always creating pieces and making new things, putting those pieces in group shows and selling them online. I’m always working on new stuff so there is a constant evolution going on with my work.

Check out more of Kenn’s work at kenntwofour.com

Photos by Matt Miller and Kenn Two Four