CK: How are the Living Units
different from your recent work?
AZ: The initial
Living Units happened in the early 90s, in New York. I lived in
contained spaces that weren't mine. I wanted to create a highly
personalized space.
CK: Were these liners to rented
apartments?
AZ: It was like owning a house that would fit
inside a shell within a house other people owned. I would do all the
modifications within the capsule of the Living Unit. That series ended
when I bought a building in New York in 1994. I started to make
furniture that addressed different issues. The
Wagon Stations are the newest pieces. They're contained capsules you
can live in outside, like a vacation home done in the smallest imaginable
comfortable, livable space. A station wagon seemed the right size - that's
why they're called Wagon Stations. They're seven feet long and four
feet wide, the front is curved and hinged, opening to an awning. Inside
there's a bed, shelf, and camp stove. I bought land half an hour from here
in the middle of nowhere. It would be great to have something there I
could have stocked, but I have problems with vandalism. If you do
something small, it disappears into the landscape; it looks like a trunk
or a chest.
Andrea Zittel: : A-Z Cellular Compartment Units, 2001,
installation view IKON-Gallery, Birmingham, UK,
Courtesy Andrea Rosen Gallery New York
and IKON-Gallery, UK , ©Andrea Zittel
CK:
In the 50s, the American home was a place of leisure for everyone except the
woman, now the home is largely a place of work. How does your art pursue
the conflict between leisure and work?
AZ: These divisions
underscore my work. It's a mental division that's been reconstructed ever
since the 12th century. That separation is folding over again because of
communications work coming into the home. The Cellular Compartment Unit
addresses the overlap and compartmentalization between time, function, and
space.
CK: You pack functionality into a condensed space.
AZ: That varies from piece to piece. In
Raugh, [pronounced "raw"] things become more functional when they're
less functionally fixed. Ambiguous shapes and spaces serve more needs.
Andrea Zittel: Raugh, installation view 1998,
Front - Raugh Furniture: Lucinda, Back - Raugh Furniture: Jack,
Courtesy the artist and Andrea Rosen Gallery, New York, © Andrea Zittel
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CK: The Living Units
promise escape or a better life through travel, yet they're stationary.
How have you taken the "voyage elsewhere"?
AZ: The
slogan for the Escape Vehicles was: whenever you wanted to escape,
climb in and close the hatch. When someone bought a silver capsule, we'd
build their ultimate escape fantasy inside. People used to travel to
exotic, unknown places to get away, now we pretty much know any place you
can go, so people turn inwards.
CK: Is that because of
globalization, or just being self-centered?
AZ: The personal
is a construction people escape into. Configuring your environment in your
home is supposed to reflect your personality. Everyone fantasizes that
their experiences are unique, but they're not.
CK: What
happens when a collector or museum acquires a Living Unit and uses
it for display and not for living?
AZ: For the first four
years of my career I worked hard to give the collector a real experience.
I tried everything from customizing pieces and working with people when
they bought a uniform to getting people to sign contracts that they'd wear
them. These experiences were heavily mediated - they didn't work for other
people the way they worked for me. There was something artificial. When
somebody does an art experiment and someone tries living in it, it's a
novelty. Someone will do it for a day or two, and then they'll use it as a
guest room or an exotic experience, but it's not a life experiment, which
is how they functioned for me. My own experiences are the only ones I can
control.
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Andrea Zittel: A-Z 1994 Living Unit
Customized for the Jedermann Collection, 1994 Courtesy the artist
and Andrea rosen Gallery, New York © Andrea Zittel
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Andrea Zittel: A-Z 1994 Living Unit
II, 1994 Courtesy the artist and Andrea rosen Gallery, New York, ©
Andrea Zittel
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CK: In the 14th and 15th
centuries, reputations were made through accomplishments in public life.
Private life was expressed through the family, not the individual. How
does your work use the split between public and private? The units are
single dwelling places; although they appear as nests, there's little room
for a mate -
AZ: That started to change with A-Z East
. I had constant houseguests. I took advantage of that, making lots of
prototypes, having people test them and write testimonials. It's ironic, I
talk about needing to be alone, but it never works out. I moved to the
desert because I needed to have highly personalized exploration. In the
last two months I had two nights alone. I have a 700-square foot house in
California with one tiny bedroom, but people stay here and not in hotels.
It's bizarrely social; there's a conflict. There's a huge tension within
my work between being alone and being with others.
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Andrea Zittel: Joshua Tree:
Spaziergang auf den Salzfeldern bei Site 7, Photo: David Dodge
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Andrea Zittel: Joshua Tree: Shawn
Caley-Regen und Martha Otero betrachten Sarah Vanderlips Arbeit auf
Site 5, Photo: David Dodge
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