{"id":123894,"date":"2018-04-06T11:00:45","date_gmt":"2018-04-06T15:00:45","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=123894"},"modified":"2018-04-12T15:34:02","modified_gmt":"2018-04-12T19:34:02","slug":"inside-dawn-clementss-studio","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2018\/04\/06\/inside-dawn-clementss-studio\/","title":{"rendered":"Inside Dawn Clements\u2019s Studio"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"\"<\/a>

Dawn Clements, Peonies<\/em>, 2014. Photo: S. Alzner<\/p><\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

On a cold and rainy Sunday last autumn, I visited Dawn Clements\u2019s studio in Greenpoint. Before it was converted into art studios, the building was a fabric factory; the windows are big, the wood floors have deep brown pockmarks spread across them. Her studio tables were cluttered with a chandelier, paper ephemera, and other trinkets, like a deconstructed carousel of baubles.<\/p>\n

\u201cI make my drawings by sort of crawling across the page,\u201d said Clements, as we looked at a series of recent oversized watercolors she\u2019d pinned up to the studio wall. \u201cWhat I draw depends on what I find or what I have.\u201d<\/p>\n

Clements has round eyes and pale gray hair cropped close to her head a result of chemotherapy. She holds herself still and seems serious but not somber. She chooses her words carefully. In college in New England, she studied film theory and semiotics. Many of Clements\u2019s drawings are drawn frame by frame from classic film melodramas. She reconstructs the rooms in which the characters live, leaving blank spaces where the actors obscured the set on the screen. These drawings have quotes from the films and time signatures noted in the corner (\u201c3:06\u201d or \u201c2:53\u201d or \u201cwish I was there\u201d).<\/p>\n

\u201cThese aren\u2019t real rooms,\u201d said Clements about her reconstructions. \u201cI can only draw what they give me.\u201d In one drawing, a train dining compartment is rendered around ghostly blank spaces where actors briefly stood. In another, the cushions of a plush sofa, rendered faintly in ballpoint pen, fade into the white of the page. The room appears to be without boundaries. The blank moments in the drawing don\u2019t signify disinterest with humanity, they make it feel too bright to capture. Clements said, \u201cI think it\u2019s interesting how in real life, everyone has these strong feelings but we rarely express them.\u201d It\u2019s as if, overwhelmed with emotion, we\u2019ve had to study the drapes and the floorboards.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

Mrs. Jessica Drummond\u2019s (My Reputation, 1946)<\/em>, 2010. (Courtesy the artist and Pierogi gallery)\u00a0<\/p><\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

The first time I ever saw Dawn Clements\u2019s drawings, it was the peonies. A college drawing professor showed me a picture of the still life online, and I couldn\u2019t stop looking.<\/p>\n

The flowers portrayed in Clements\u2019s Peonies<\/em>\u00a0(2014) are white-pink and flesh colored, or else reddish mauve seeping into bloodred. They don\u2019t look fresh. They must have been drawn on their fourth or fifth day, the day when the vase water gets cloudy and the leaves slump downward in pale greens and lake blues. The vase itself, a precise glass cylinder, holds a bundle of mottled brown stems. Another bunch of peonies rest to the right to first bunch, these second blooms definitely dead, their leaves brittle and gray. Beneath the vases, a pale yellow table fades into the white of the page, drawing attention to its physicality. The paper looks heavy. It has been folded, creased into squares, and spread out again for display. On the right-hand side of the page, a grayscale drawing of young girl\u2019s face hovers, an afterthought. In contrast to the flowers, the face appears lifeless, as if it were only a texture. It\u2019s the flowers that feel real; the human face that seems to be an ornament.<\/p>\n

Clements\u2019s peonies don\u2019t look right. Or rather, they don\u2019t look photographically correct. But there\u2019s a kind of truth about the flowers that stems from their wrongness, from the fact that the drawing doesn\u2019t quite track. Far from appearing still, Clements\u2019s drawing pulses with compressed motion. When I look at the peonies, I experience a kind of playback effect. I\u2019m sent in different directions, toward innumerous focal points. I look in the same way Clements has looked, her gaze darting moment to moment over the scene.<\/p>\n

That careful, active looking is what draws me to Clements\u2019s work. There\u2019s nothing memorized about her drawings. When she is not working from film stills, she works exclusively from life. There is a strong element of time. A chrysanthemum or a coffee cup pour out onto the page as a collection of lived moments. It\u2019s as if in order to translate the thing to the page, she has to forget its platonic boundaries of \u201cflower\u201d or \u201cvase.\u201d She forgets, she watches it move through time, and what emerges on the page is all the more clear for it.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

Dawn Clements, Kitchen and Bathroom<\/em>, 2003.\u00a0<\/p><\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

The second piece by Clements that I saw is called Kitchen and Bathroom<\/em>. It is a massive, roughly the real scale of her actual New York kitchen and bathroom. The drawing sprawls across multiple, stitched together sheets of paper. Drawn in sumi ink, a stove, fridge, wooden ladder, and slatted blinds groan into each other. Light falls through a window and across a chair. The light is, indirectly, everywhere\u2014even the most opaque objects in the scene seem to carry some sort of internal reflective quality. Clements made the drawing before she had a studio. She kept it rolled up in a corner of her apartment, working on it there piece by piece. When she wanted to unroll it fully, she had to use the basketball court at her neighborhood high school. When she showed the work to gallerists, she brought along a ladder so that they could view the drawing at a distance and experience it at scale.<\/p>\n

Kitchen and Bathroom <\/em>is a drawing made in the dead spaces of the day. It feels peculiar and feminine, passive rather than active, as if made by someone attempting to fill a period of waiting. What, besides midafternoon light, lies outside the walls of Kitchen and Bathroom<\/em>? We don\u2019t want to find out. We\u2019d rather lose ourselves in the hyperpronounced wood grain of the cabinets.<\/p>\n

Clements is wary of nature. When she draws it, it is often through a window. A drawing made at the MacDowell Colony shows the woods in blotted black ink, an impenetrable whorl of branches and leaves. She\u2019s rendered individual blades of grass in almost perverse detail, but with hesitancy: \u201cI hate drawing nature because I get lost,\u201d said Clements. \u201cI always try to create boundaries for myself.\u201d Without a frame, such as a window or a screen, the drawing might go on forever.<\/p>\n

For Clements, her drawings are not about a specific moment or a certain object but are, rather, a way for her to \u201cstring my days together.\u201d Clements keeps folded sheets of heavy paper in her purse, tied with string, to pull out and draw when she is waiting. Since getting sick, she spends a lot of her time in waiting rooms.<\/p>\n

To me, Clements\u2019s drawings feel familiar. But it\u2019s more than that. They make me feel recognized, in that I feel as if they somehow draw out the quiet corners of my own days. When I see Clements\u2019s work, I think, I understand this because I also wait. I wait, and the world passes through me and around me, a series of unbound moments. How could I ever explain that feeling to someone? It\u2019s irreproducible; it defies focus. But Dawn Clements draws it.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Eileen Townsend lives in the Adirondack Mountains, where she edits <\/em>The Northern Logger and <\/em>Timber Processor magazine. She also writes about art.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  On a cold and rainy Sunday last autumn, I visited Dawn Clements\u2019s studio in Greenpoint. Before it was converted into art studios, the building was a fabric factory; the windows are big, the wood floors have deep brown pockmarks spread across them. Her studio tables were cluttered with a chandelier, paper ephemera, and other […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":793,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1857],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-123894","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-studio-visit"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nInside Dawn Clements\u2019s Studio by Eileen Townsend<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"April 6, 2018 \u2013   On a cold and rainy Sunday last autumn, I visited Dawn Clements\u2019s studio in Greenpoint. 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