Victoria Stanton, Performance and Interdisciplinary Artist.

Currently she is continuing her research on what “the performative” actually encapsulates as a performance artist.  This has taken many forms over the years including, but in no way limited to, Bank of Victoria, 2001-2005, where she investigated relationships to finances by giving out her own money to strangers,  to her Cake Feeding Series, 2001-2008 where she participated in the act of the awkward intimacy of feeding and being fed cake (and other foods) to/by strangers, to  her current project This City, My Love (mapping the unspectacular in Saint John), an installation highlighting the extra-ordinary sites of Saint John, New Brunswick.  Have a look at her Flickr stream to get an idea of what these projects look like in colour, and find her at http://www.bankofvictoria.com.

1. Describe your current body of work. 

Victoria:

(This answer below is actually from a proposal that I sent in recently for a magazine)

From October 2012 to October 2013, I carried out a series of research and creation residencies in three locations (two months in Real del Monte, Mexico; one month in Saint John, NB; and four months in Sainte-Thérèse, QC.. The express intention of these visits was to spend the entirety of my time seeing sites that hold meaning for the people who live there. Carrying out research via one-on-one meetings with local citizens, the purpose wasn’t to see traditional tourist attractions, but to experience these cities/towns through the eyes of local inhabitants – to discover the myriad stories that make up the multiple invisible histories of each particular place.
Each person became a specific and particular perspective on each particular place.

Not only was I in the process of encountering local citizens to encounter a new place, I was simultaneously experiencing an encounter of acclimatization, a very personal consideration of how we come to understand a place, and feel some sense of “belonging” – of how “place” is indeed constructed.

When the art frame is less obvious, when the site of making is outside of conventional art contexts, when art and life collide in a seamless parallel movement of co-existence, it can be difficult to ascertain – where is the art?  Boundaries risk dissolving more easily, and the space of negotiation becomes less about an audience/artist relationship, but about contact as human to human. This re-defines the role of “art” and that of the “artist.” 

2. What’s your favorite part about the work you do?

There are a number of things that make me keep on doing this work – including those aspects that I don’t necessarily love, but that simply challenge me (and keep contributing to my growth as an artist and as a human being). One of the things that makes me feel so grateful is the opportunity I have to travel and to meet so many incredible, generous, smart, interesting people. My current work is, in part, predicated on meeting people – and that’s not an accident! I have worked what I love to do into my work. It’s kind of a dream come true…and when I have moments of being in process/production, connecting with others and living these beautiful, meaningful moments, I am really aware of how damn fortunate I am to be able to do this work. Of how the opportunities have presented themselves for me to keep doing this kind of research and exploration. I am so grateful for this!

3. How much does your
immediate environment inform your work?

My immediate environment has quite a large impact on my
work; since the beginning of my performance practice I’ve taken a lot of
inspiration from events that happen in my everyday.

4. Do you find that
there is a digestion process even after your work is “completed”? Describe what
it’s like for you when it’s time to walk away from something you’ve been
working on.

I like how you’ve put “completed” in quotation
marks, because that’s just it…sometimes it feels like a work just doesn’t
want to wrap up. But there is also some relief in deciding that something is
completed because then you can let go and move on. “Walking away”
feels differently, depending on the kind and scale of project. I’ve found that
after finishing up projects in residence (which in the last few years has
become a big part of my artistic practice/process) I tend to have quite severe
“postpartum.” So much time and emotional investment, with people and
places that become so important in my life…There is definitely a kind of
digestion that takes place, when I’m in process/production, so many elements
and ideas are explored, new reflections and realities come to light, things are
revealed (revelations occur) and it feels like there is so much to
…integrate. Because often, after a project is done, I don’t feel like I’m not
quite the same person. A kind of transformation has occurred and in order to
integrate all this new food into my ideas/body/methodology there needs to be a
period of post-reflection, a “digestion process” (as you put it).
Integration is, I find, a huge part of the process in making art – well, from a
performance-making perspective – and this process continues long after a work
ends…

5. How do you prepare
yourself to get into a creative head space?

I definitely need “space out” time. Just, staring
at the wall. Taking walks to clear my head and let thoughts come in. Work
through ideas through moving my body. I have various practices too that
populate my creative process; I have a chanting meditation practice, which I
try as much as possible to do every day. I also have a yoga and journaling
practice. But coming back to the initial statement, “spacing out” is
an extremely helpful, healthy and necessary part of “getting into a
creative headspace.” It’s great to be able to give one’s own head that
kind of down time. It’s not always easy because – from the perspective of a
productive Protestant Work Ethic model – it doesn’t seem like a whole lot of
work is going on. But so be it, that is what is so helpful in getting to a
space of letting ideas come in. And in some cases, I don’t do any prep. If
deadlines are looming, I just sit down – and work!

6. Describe a day in
the life …

An ideal day would start something like this:

get up, eat breakfast (at the table, not in front of the
computer)

sit in front of my alter and chant for about 20 minutes to
half hour

write a page or so in my journal

read a page or so from my Buddhist texts

do about 20 minutes to half hour of yoga

have a bath

…as you can see, this is a lengthy morning routine! But
when I get in that groove, it helps everything else along that comes after, for
whatever else my day has in store. And just to say, even if I only do one of
those activities to get my day started (for example, the chanting meditation) I
really notice a difference in my focus for the remainder of my day. Finally, I
consider these activities part of my studio work, they are definitely an
important part of my creative process.

Following whatever shape the morning routine takes,
depending on what project I’m working on, I will most likely sit down in my
workspace and spend the rest of day: answering emails, writing, working on
exhibition/residence, etc. applications or grant proposals; researching
presentation opportunities; editing video; writing in my sketch book; snacking
frequently; going for walks; buying groceries; cooking; hanging out on FB (YUP!
it’s definitely a bigger part of my day than I would like to admit!); spacing
out. Drinking tea. Reading.

7. Your work often
involves a lot of collaboration. Why has this become so important to you?

Collaboration stimulates my creative juices and gets me out
of my very comfortable habits. Being taken out of my comfort zone via creative
processes with others is a wonderful way to keep evolving and growing as an
artist. I love connecting to people; feeling connected, cultivating connecting.
Working with others contributes to a deepening quality of life, where I get to
experience all kinds of intimacies. Even professional relationships can produce
a certain kind of intimate contact and this is just as nourishing as those
kinds of intimacies that we experience with friends (and loved ones). It’s
really nice to break out of the “lone artist” isolated model too. So
much of my time (as an artist) can be, often is, spent working alone and
…that can get lonely. The older we get, the more we tend to lose touch with
the people around us, i.e.: our friends, because – unlike being in high school
or at university – we don’t spend as much time around each other. The effort
has to be made to see people! When you work in collaborative art projects, you
create contexts and situations that provide opportunities to spend more time
with others. I have started certain projects just to be able to spend more time
with people I like! And started projects to get to have opportunities to work
with other artists that I admire or whose work inspires me.

8. Living an artist’s
lifestyle can be challenging. When times are tough, do you have a motto that
pulls you through it? Do you have advice for other artists out there
considering if it’s worth it?

When times are tough I remind myself that I’ve been through
tough times before and always manage to feed myself and keep a roof over
my  head. It was my ex (writer Vincent Tinguely) who, ten years my senior,
used to say this to me and I realize how much that affirmation has stuck.
Living an artists life is indeed challenging – because in part it is so
unpredictable. This alone can make many people very uncomfortable. Living with
an ongoing vulnerability and insecurity can indeed challenge the morale and faith.
However, I find it’s totally worth these challenges because, among other
things, it has taught me to keep having faith in things working out (i.e.: rent
always gets paid, food is always on the table), to never take things for
granted (i.e.: I’m always in tremendous appreciation for all the opportunities
I have to make and show work) and to be creative about living in the world.
Each person has to decide for themselves if it’s worth the challenge…my
advice would be to honour your creativity; if being an artist is what calls to
you then try as much as possible to put faith in the fact that this is your
work. Supplementing with ‘joe-jobs’ can always help you out when you need it
(and most artists have other jobs as well, that is part of our reality), and each
artist needs to figure out what combination works best for them: full time work
with art-making on the side; part-time work with less money but more time for
making art…etc. Surrounding yourself with like-minded people (i.e.: other
artists and creative types) is also a good thing to do: being understood and
supported by people who “get it” and reflect your choices can – and
will – encourage you and affirm the decision to be an artist.

9. Do you feel your artwork has a spiritual aspect – however you may want to interpret that?

Yes…I feel like it’s always been there even when I didn’t recognize it or name it as such. More recently I think of that as how the work is in large part away of connecting to the (greater) life-force around us. How finding connection – to others, to place – is a way to plug into something, to a variety of things that are “greater than us.” And that this contributes to a profound sense of being connected to “the life force,” – those elements that speak to a larger human ecology; we are individuals (and ostensibly alone in the world) and yet, we are part of a larger circuit that is…life. 

10. Who/what is your
biggest influence?

Feminist performance and video art from the 1970s;
performance artists Linda Montano and Alan Kaprow; conceptual artist Marcel
Duchamps, musician David Byrne, “art rock” bands from from the
1970s-80s…that’s the quick-n-dirty short list!

11. If you could work
with anyone, past or present, who would it be?

David Byrne, Laurie Anderson, Linda Montano, Alan Kaprow
(again, quick-n-dirty short list)

12. Do you have any tips
to help us be present and mindful in our environments?

Give yourself permission every now and again (or often, if
you can take that kind of time) to really observe the spaces around you; the
more time you can take to really register details (while walking, riding the
bus, being out in the world in whatever form that takes) the more you can get a
sense of being connected to the world around you. It sounds quite simple, and
possibly quite banal, but it’s often the details in the very ordinary that can provide
a sense of profound presence and connection. 

13. What was the best piece of advice you ever received as an artist? 

“Being an artist means continually finding creative ways to earn money. Invent the job that you want.” Corrine Corry (my prof at Concordia University)

14. Any advice for
emerging artists? 

Get involved ASAP. Canadian artists can: start
volunteering at your local artist-run centre (in Montreal we have many! And
they’re always looking for new members); go DIY and start putting your work out
there; organize shows, take part in the shows that you organize. This is an
excellent way to get your foot in the door – in many doors; to meet people and
start networking. These contacts could be potential collaborators – or even
employers! Keep making work and showing work (independently) and when you feel
ready, start submitting work to events/galleries/festivals, etc. Attend
grant-writing seminars (see YES – Youth Employment Services, if you’re in
Montreal) and sit on selection committees at artist-run centres to see examples
of other artists ‘artist statements’ and tips on writing good proposals. Start
applying for grants. Try to find work that doesn’t zap your brain and leaves
you time to make your art. Organize potlucks – sharing food is a great strategy
for spending less money on groceries and eating well!

15. Do you have any upcoming shows?

I have an exhibition in Saint John, New Brunswick at the Saint John City Gallery in the Saint John Arts Centre, This City, My Love (mapping the unspectacular in Saint John).