A Little Cold Blood: or Was That Root Beer?
A
conversation between Marcel Dzama and Cheryl Kaplan
Over
the past several years, the Canadian Marcel Dzama has advanced from an
artist’s artist to an international art star. His subtle drawings,
reminiscent of illustrations in Victorian books, explode with black humor;
in them, the self-declared pacifist maps out his fantastic and sometimes
cruel world. Cheryl Kaplan followed the white rabbit in Dzama’s New
York studio and spoke to the artist and filmmaker about his own peculiar
wonderland.
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Marcel Dzama, Untitled, no date
Deutsche
Bank Collection
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It’s the worst rain New York’s seen in a long time, but Marcel
Dzama is smiling. It’s hard to imagine him upset at anything – he
could be Frodo
in Lord
of the Rings, and his studio feels just as enchanted as J.R.R.
Tolkien's trilogy.
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Marcel Dzama in his New York studio
Photo:
Courtesy Cheryl Kaplan.
©Copyright
2006 Cheryl Kaplan. All rights reserved.
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He’s been here since his arrival from Canada a little over
a year ago. There are still bins of children’s clothes and related
furniture standing around. Dzama’s shelves are filled with his costumes,
familiar to those who’ve seen his films recently at the Museum
of Modern Art in New York.
The
artist at work
Photo: Courtesy
Cheryl Kaplan.
©Copyright 2006
Cheryl Kaplan. All rights reserved.
Dzama’s
collaborated with Spike
Jonze, but is equally known for founding the Royal
Art Lodge in 1996 and the Royal
Family, a kind of family-based trunk show that started in Winnipeg.
The conceit gained them international attention, but it’s Dzama’s drawings
that have really distinguished him. Drawn with a root beer solution, the
work has the pleasant appearance of a storybook tale and the disturbing
reality of Edgar Allan Poe or Truman
Capote’s In
Cold Blood.
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A new drawing in Dzama's studio
Foto:
Courtesy Cheryl Kaplan.© Copyright 2006 Cheryl Kaplan. All rights
reserved.
There’s also a profound sense
of folly and a constant mix-up not unlike Shakespeare’s
Midsummer
Night’s Dream. Amputations, blood baths, and dancing bears
form an archaic plot occasionally punctuated by literary figures like James
Joyce, who’s recently become a sub-character in Dzama’s universe.
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Marcel Dzama, Untitled, no date
Deutsche
Bank Collection
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CHERYL KAPLAN: When
the public sees illustration-based art, especially with multiple
characters, the discussion heads towards alternative realities. How do you
get around this?
MARCEL DZAMA: I don’t know if I do.
What’s
your alternative reality?
I have an escape place.
Do
you meet your characters there?
They just appear, develop on
the page. I draw and also make them in 3D. I collect objects from
conversations, newspapers, books, and films; I keep a sketchbook. When the
war was happening, I drew soldiers with machine guns and added a loose
narrative.
You had your own troops.
I was gathering
my army. Originally, the bats in the drawings were on a flag representing
a fascist regime infiltrating a world.
Marcel
Dzama, Training Film, 2005
Courtesy
David Zwirner, New York
[1]
[2]
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