Interview & Photography Alex John Beck

Published in No 10

Nicola Tyson lives in a farmhouse at the top of a hill, where the tarmac runs to dirt. Paintings rest on bricks against the walls of her studio in various stages of completion: five-foot pencil marks on a white base or mapped out in color with strips of paper taped as a guide. Tyson is working on her upcoming solo show at Petzel Gallery. She works in her studio for three hours at a time, deals with the house or garden chores, then returns. I watch her as she looks at a painting through a mirror — she sees something new in the reflection.  

Alex John Beck Born and raised in London, you were part of and documented the influential punk and club scene in the late ‘70s; how is the rural environment influential in your practice?

Nicola Tyson It didn’t affect the content of my work for many years, then gradually insects, birds, blooms and thorns started to creep into my drawings — and four-legged creatures. As a child, I was very interested in natural history — I drew birds and bred butterflies and believed my vocation to be some kind of eco career. Then my priorities shifted during adolescence and I became more interested in pop culture and art. Now I find myself looping back to those early obsessions.

AJB What initially prompted you to leave NYC for the countryside?

NT It was 1999 and the rent on my SoHo studio loft had suddenly shot up to an unreasonable amount. My partner and I had just bought this — back then — very dilapidated farmhouse as a weekend getaway. I moved up, supposedly temporarily, and ended up staying and renovating it.

AJB For your solo show of paintings at Petzel, in the fall, what is the inspiration for new body of work?

NT Love lost — but not hope… I might call the show “Gone but not Forgotten.”

AJB Will you address your thoughts on sexuality and gender in this show?

NT Not directly as that’s kind of embedded in my approach by now. Initially, feminist concerns — and theory — were my drivers. I worked conceptually, for a while, after graduating. I even ran a women-only project space in the early ‘90s, from my SoHo studio loft. I then literally shut the door on all that and turned within to work completely intuitively. I had found my voice — which I felt was a feminist achievement in itself — and no longer wanted my imagination to be structured by theory.

AJB To what extent do you plan out your work? And, if not, what instincts do you follow?

NT I never know what’s going to appear on the page, when I start drawing, it’s always a surprise. Some drawings beg to be developed further into paintings and I group these into a bodies of work for a show. I usually mull over this selection for quite a while, looking for resonances.

AJB Was scale something you took into consideration (for the show) and why do you work at different scales?

NT The images start out in a sketchbook and the scale implicit in them varies. Some can go monumental, whereas others need to stay intimate. I had been scheduled to show in the Petzel Chelsea space, which is gigantic. When I heard the gallery was expanding their uptown space, I asked to show there instead. I much prefer an elegant apartment! I miss those old SoHo loft-space galleries of yesteryear.

AJB Drawing is part of your practice. What do people not know about the difference between painting and drawing? Are there biases?

NT Well, for me, drawing is an act of discovery — I don’t know what’s going to ‘download’ until I put pencil to paper. It’s fast, too, as I like to stay just ahead of my rational mind. When I paint, the decisions are still intuitive but way slower and just look like they were made fast!

AJB You've spoken about the artist's need to 'get out of their own way.’ How do you apply this?

NT That’s a bit of a creative cliché, but, in my case, it just means zero premeditation combined with an engaged kind of detachment.

AJB What kind of artist do you consider yourself? 

NT Intuitive, mildly expressive, exploratory. Ponderous.

AJB In your book Dead Letter Men (2013), a series of your satirical letters to dead artists like Picasso, Manet, Bacon, etc. would you say that project was an act of catharsis?

NT I did have certain scores to settle — not always with the artists themselves! The letters weave together sexual politics, autobiography and art history, describing obliquely how my own work evolved. I’ve been asked to write some more, so there’s going to be a “PS”!

AJB Do certain colors you use have an emotional meaning to you?

NT Yes. Many of the colors I use I couldn’t live with in ‘normal life.’ There’s a particular red that makes me quite agitated and depressed if it’s, say, a cushion cover, but when I’m working within a painting — engaged in the argument that is making a painting — my emotional relationship to these colors is quite different in that it’s a kind of game and this is the hand I’ve chosen to play.


AJB Are there other ways you express your creativity, aside from your visual practice?

NT Landscaping with loppers, a chainsaw and my tractor. I love editing — anything — and I have spent a great deal of time on the property (75 acres) eradicating invasive species, like the Multiflora Rose, and reclaiming overgrown bits of the fields.

AJB How and where do you usually find your inspiration? 

NT Ancient art — wandering around The Met — and wildlife, human and animal.

AJB You have spoken about creative authority; can you define it in your own terms? 

NT Well, for women this has been hard won, as we were told it didn’t ‘come naturally’ to us! So, it was not just a political battle but a very personal one regarding creative confidence — especially regarding painting. This was still the case for my generation. But now with all the brilliant young women artists out there, and newly ‘discovered’ old ones, it’s hard to imagine that. We just need to get paid the same as men.

AJB Can you describe typical daily routine of yours?

NT Any routine is dictated by animal husbandry. As for my routine, it’s all over the place but, when possible, I like to work in the morning and the late afternoon/evening. In between, I do the boring tasks of which there are always a million. I’ve never had an assistant, as I find it hard to delegate, so I’m constantly running behind myself!

AJB You have two donkeys and beehives — any intriguing experiences with encroaching wildlife?

NT A beaver couple built a dam in my creek a few years back, after eating all the Eastern Cottonwoods I’d planted! The dam was a total work of art though and the creek went from a foot to 6 feet deep. After two years they moved on and everything is back to normal now, minus the Cottonwoods.

AJB Art community is big in both London and NYC; what about rurally?

NT Here, in New Paltz, I’m equidistant between NYC and the art communities further north, around Hudson, or over in Delhi, deep in the Catskills. I mainly head south to the city though, as I need a break from the countryside! I still cling to an urbanite identity — in ’89 I moved to NYC for a bigger, badder city than London. I still can’t believe I’ve actually been living up here — in a semi-rural landscape … that looks a bit like England — for nearly 20 years!

Nicola Tyson is represented by New York: Petzel.com / London: Sadiecoles.com / Brussels: Miergallery.com

Follow Tyson on Instagram @nicola_tyson

Photographer & Journalist Alex John Beck contributes to Vogue, The Sunday Times, and Office magazine. Alexjohnbeck.com @alexjohnbeck