Earthlings: Corinne Beardsley and Sludge Thunder

This summer, artists Corinne Beardsley and Sludge Thunder presented Earthlings, an exhibition of ceramics, paintings, fridge magnets, and handmade books at ADS Gallery in Newburgh, NY. The large ceramic by Beardsley, cross sections of native clay and glaze that undulate open to reveal symmetrical figures and symbols.” The paintings are by Sludge Thunder, a “gleeful impulse”in her paintings to depict “uncanny metaphors, objects worthy of attention, and charming characters that teeter between fiction and reality.” In the center of the gallery stands a fridge containing magnets, which are stylistically tied to the larger artworks. As if ceramics, paintings, and fridge magnets weren’t enough, the artists also created a hand-bound publication – also called Earthlings – that meditates on the work they make, and why they make it.

We recently sat with them over Zoom to discuss their work and their deepest impulses.

Corinne, where did you source the native clay for these pieces?

Corinne: I was introduced to some areas in the woods that had native clay. We found a deeper layer, beneath the roots, where all the clay was. I didn’t process the clay. It a toothy texture, with tons of rocks and aggregates in it, fired to a nice purplish-red. [I added] new materials to every clay I worked with — crushed rocks and glass, vermiculite and perlite, copper and metals. I was looking for strange interactions between the clay and glazes…some of the additions melted into dark cavities, or pimply, sinewy bubbles. I began marbling clay and glaze, so the color and texture were in the form, not an afterthought or a film on top of the form. With marbling, you can plan the designs by folding or rolling it into a shapes, and then slicing it to get a repeated pattern. As I stretched the design out, the symmetrical pattern distorted. The layers and craggy clays split into crevasses, the short porcelain bodies crackled, and layers of glaze peeked out. The geological strata felt like cross sections of the body and viscera. Incorporating clay dug from the ground to represent earthling bodies felt fitting.

Did you have previous experience in symmetrical designs?

Corinne: Yes, from doing ice-dye and experimenting with shibori accordion folds. What I learned from folding patterns and the movement of dye expanded my approach to marbled designs, and I could coordinate them as large wall tiles or slabs. After working abstractly for a while, I feel figures I wanted to let out…I started thinking about the symmetry in our bodies, faces, butterflies, and moths. The way that the marbled design is revealed in the slice, and then the layers are opened up as I stretch the slab, is the most exciting moment. Butterfly and moth wings are a form of disguise and protection in their environments from predators. When I was designing butterfly and face patterns on these slabs, or wings, this idea of hiding and disguise contrasted with the exposing and revealing process of stretching the layers open.

Why fridge magnets? How did you guys land on that installation?

Corinne: For me, it began as a way to work with scraps of marbled designs. But then once I started making them I was like, “Oh, I want to make this small vignette big. I want to go large so the audience can be immersed in the textures, the way you are in a geological landscape.” I find the magnets to be mini-paintings in themselves.

ST: Cori started making miniature versions of her larger pieces by repurposing pieces of the larger versions that had cracked. I simply had to join in the fun! I started making my own cone magnets and illustrative designs. I think there’s something delightful about the decorative magnet as an art object, as well as a regular household thing that’s a utility. I delight in the dual function. Of course, it sprung to mind that I could also make magnets and place them secretly in people’s homes.

Corinne: The art is the magnet, instead of the magnet holding up the art on the fridge.

Tell me about the crossover between your work. What themes are you mutually interested in?

ST: We realised that we each had independent branches that stemmed out from the concept of Earthlings. For Cori, Earthlings means literally “of the earth”, pulling clay out of the ground and making figures and forms. For me, physical aesthetics and  everyday objects are very grounded to Earth, the place [where] we live. Yet, both of us are also interested in other-earthly, extra-terrestrial themes. We’re taking something from both ends of the spectrum: from the ground and from the experience of us humans trampling on the ground.

Corinne: For me, it’s also a spiritual feeling, an understanding that we are so small. There’s also the wonderful moment in the film E.T. (1982) where he reaches his glowing finger out for touch, for communication, connection, and curiosity for humans. In that moment, he sheds his otherness. Touching clay and making marks has been a means of communication, connection, and shedding that otherness.

Does the idea of extraterrestrials bring you both peace and comfort?

Corinne: Yeah.

ST: Same here. It’s too much pressure if it’s just us. I identify with the multitudes of dimensions idea: everything is stacked on top of each other, and if there’s a rip in some consciousness, we can peek over to the other side. Maybe things are sliding between the weave of each fabric.

Sludge, what’s the first painting you remember making that you felt satisfied with?

ST: It was a series of watercolours that were direct representations of photos from my youth. But my art was all boring stuff until later. I was trying to match the vague rubric of what I considered to be acceptable, but a rubric created by the outside world. The whole process of stepping into one’s career as an artist is shedding decades worth of vague cultural influences about what art should look like, and how you should feel making it.

When did it start to get more interesting?

ST: Maybe toward the end of college…but I don’t think it got that interesting until a couple of years ago.

What an exciting time for us to be talking! A lot of your paintings show delight and disgust, simultaneously. Is that something you feel frequently, the combination of delight and disgust?

ST: Yes, and that ties back into our conversation about aliens. In some ways, I relate to that term in that I feel like an alien in the way I view and perceive the culture that we’re in; the weird habits and behaviours that we exhibit. For example, wedding habits and traditions. I have an interest and delight in the excesses of it, but there’s also disgust in some of the procedural elements. I feel like I’m looking at it from an alien’s perspective, examining a strange phenomenon anew rather than being inside the culture. That feeling also comes up in other ways too, like with bugs and…that’s about it. Displays of romantic love, gender reveals, and holiday traditions. My famous pair of Crocs, various trash that I find interesting, even a cone that’s been collecting disgusting debris!

When did you start putting yourself in the work?

ST: I was doing it in a secretive, sheepish way in paintings that never saw the light of day, that didn’t really have any concept behind them. There’s this thing that I have about the self-portrait where I judge it for being self indulgent, cheesy, lame, excessive, and self referential. Maybe I judge other people for doing it, so I reflect that judgment back on myself. So, I avoided doing it for a long time. But then, the convenience of having yourself as your model is undeniable. All of the comments that I’m making are from my own perspective. I’m also slightly making fun of myself. I felt like it was okay as long as I was making fun of myself. That’s my own private, stupid rule that I’m now revealing to the world. But, as long as you’re sort of making fun of yourself, it doesn’t feel as narcissistic to include your own image. The more I was doing it, the funnier I found it to be. That propelled me to keep doing it. It’s also interesting because it allows me to put myself in situations I otherwise wouldn’t be in, and then reflect on my identity in new terms. For example, showing off my two children: I don’t anticipate myself having two babies, and yet, there I am!

A lot of your paintings have a dream-like quality. What’s in your dreams these days? What percentage of your images are sourced from your dreams?

ST: My dreams have been more muted lately, but I have used images from my dreams in my paintings. 

An example?

ST: I had a dream where I was sitting in a chair and three people were all holding me down and about to cut off my arm.

Oh my God, that’s so scary!

ST: (Cackles wildly) But the weird part was that in the dream, I knew I had made that choice willingly. I wasn’t being forced. I don’t know why. So, I made a painting about it.