INTERVIEWS <<<

[20240913]

YYYYMMDD 02 20240913 10+QUESTIONS CATINCA MALAIMARE

Flickering neons murmur, spreading their mellow gleaming glows. Blazing in phosphorescent hues of green, pink, blue, yellow, red and white. Permanent electric hummings colliding with slow human-like breaths and tenderness. Cold metal objects and malleable warm bodies touching gently — melting together in the haze of droning synthetic glares. Rigid, non-flexible machine-like props bending under the restless weight of human determination, softened with their hushed sigh. Flowing into intertwined technological anatomies.

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00 — WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO EAT WITH US — AND IF YES WHERE WOULD THAT BE?

I like reading the list of ingredients under a dish on the menu, in anticipation of how they will taste once cooked and assembled. This turns my menu browsing into a lengthy process, unlike reading an artwork’s description where the works on display are broken down into raw materials. Both lists are incomplete, the menu doesn’t offer the recipe, and the list of works omits the steps in the manufacturing process. Cooking brings me clarity, and eating, feeding others, and being fed are fundamentally symbiotic acts. Our home-cooked dinner would start with a tuna and shiso leaf tartare, paired with a green walnut liqueur. And in between courses, sips of cumin and lemon tea.

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01 — WHY DO YOU THINK WE PICKED YOU?

Artist interviews have always been one of my favorite texts to read —(you could probably guess all my artist crushes from their recurring interviews in all the Flash Art and Mousse issues I’ve bought over the years). And there’s something so mesmerising about somebody’s words, their reflections. I tried to answer your questions quickly, at first, then with more consideration (as I became too conscious that my words would be a timestamp), and then answer them all over again. So, I’m guessing my timekeeping was not one of the reasons you picked me.

But, I enjoy a slow-burn, and it’s been a year since our first dm’s about my then solo show at a London gallery, Brooke Benington. You’ve since had another encounter with my work — I was absent. These successive indirect encounters brought us to this conversation, I think.

We can totally relate to the timekeeping aspect, as we work in a very similar way — nothing is ever rushed, everything is questioned and turned around several times before we put things out there. So no worries ;)

And true — since we virtually visited your show at Brooke Benington we knew that one day we wanted to do this interview with you and see your work in person, which we did at Artissima 2023. Now we would love to experience one of your performances live and not only via our phone.

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02 — WHERE WOULD YOU POSITION YOURSELF — IF YOU HAD THE POWER TO DO SO?

I felt overwhelmed just thinking about the amount of agency it would take to uproot.

03 — WHO WOULD YOU WRITE A "LOVE LETTER" TO?

*PLEASE SHOW US YOUR FAVOURITE ARTIST[S], CURATOR[S], WRITER[S] ETC. AND/OR ARTWORK[S] SOMEONE ELSE DID

Underlining their words in a book, re-reading Ida Marie Hede's "Adorable" as if it was my personal bible, making an 18-hour round trip, London-Amsterdam-London, just to spend two hours in an artist's exhibition, holding onto a burnt rose bud from a performance four years ago—a gift from a friend—all feel like love letters without a commitment to form and declaration. But, I am moved by authors who declare themselves and summon the addressee, especially if they do it to reposition themselves, unburdened by the “footprint” of a love letter —and the voyeurs who might read it. With this in mind, I have to say I always wait for artist Selma Selman’s Instagram communications titled “Dear Omer”. And reading Annie Ernaux’s “Getting Lost” like a life crutch.

I may never write a formal one, but if I do, I will declare myself on a coated paper called Heaven 42, from the same manufacturer that created the fire-resistant sheet used on NASA’s Apollo 12 lunar mission and which also supplied The Vatican, because I too will contradict myself and negate the primordial fire in favour of the celestial and vice versa.

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04 — HOW DID THEY INFLUENCE YOU AND YOUR OWN PRACTICE?

I watched Hito Steyerl’s “Lovely Andrea”, “November” & “Abstract” locked inside a meeting room on a random Thursday afternoon, in a town in Surrey, and when the key that let us out turned into the lock, I was shaken—I hadn’t realised video existed. Which then led me down the rabbit hole to artist Dara Birnbaum & theorist N. Katherine Hayles, amongst many others. Similarly, in an adjacent lecture theatre, I sat through a lecture that seemed inconsequential at first, but ended up summarising Batailles’s essay “The Big Toe”, the allure of disgust and the fetishisation of dirt, and how this is negated in the design of Mies van der Rohe's pavilion. When I watched Cronenberg’s “Videodrome” in my studio around the same time, it overlooked a pasture where sheep were let on daily. All this did was create an environment of opposing elements that still fascinates me to this day, and I’ve set out to bridge these binaries through my practice.

05 — WITH WHOM WOULD YOU LIKE TO DO AN EXHIBITION AND WHAT WOULD THIS SHOW BE ABOUT?

Any hypothetical exhibition requires a good space. I sense you’ll allow me to diverge outside the realm of possibility here, so it would have to be held on an airport runway; with observation points for the audience inside the terminal buildings and outside on the designated pedestrian walkways on the runway. There are many metaphors there already to help build the show. I won’t elaborate further, I fear I’ll jinx it.

06 — HOW DO YOU DEFINITELY [NOT] START YOUR WORKING-PROCESS —

Appearing decisive at the very early stages of a project helps me establish a loose relationship with its form and aesthetic. A good example would be my recent solo exhibition in Berlin, curated by Brooke Wilson, that began as the joining of a union, and the gallery as the wedding aisle. Its final form was more concerned with the vows we take in living as partnered lovers with technological objects; more Y2K nostalgia, less bridalcore. Other starting points are less realistic and will remain unmaterialised.

WHAT TOTALLY DRIVES YOU AND WHAT NOT?

When an invitation lands in my inbox, the reality of making work outside of a vacuum—something that regularly needs reassurance—becomes more plausible and is an underrated motivator. Waiting for an audience in an empty gallery for a quarter of an hour before a scheduled performance, sweating with worry, can be discouraging. However, having to text the gallerist halfway through the same performance, from across the room, to ask them to move the crowd further away to give space is a special motivation.

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07 — WHAT DO YOU THINK WAS/IS YOUR BIGGEST CHALLENGE —

There are many challenges, to which I add a personal fear that I’ll never be able to afford staging a performance with a cast of five or more, including myself as an unpaid performer (without an artist fee either).

AND ARE YOU AFRAID OF FAILURE/FAILING?

I can’t help but notice that you’ve grouped the trifecta of doubt, guilt trips and insecurity into these three questions. Even my demeanour across the screen has changed, my answers have become shorter as a result. To address your question, some of the usual forms of acknowledgment are inconsequential. I hope I can let that belief guide me instead.

07.01 — AND WHAT ABOUT PROFESSIONAL REJECTION?

I’m aware we’re conversing through these questions and, while carried out indirectly, it is not an exchange that occurred privately. I’m reminded of other similar conversations with public outcomes and being able to share to an audience, irl or otherwise, overturns rejection which feels like it succeeds in keeping things private.

08 — IS THERE A PLAN B?

For every exhibition installation I’ve done, I’ve always relied on one or more contingency plans. Why should it be any different on a larger scale? The contingency plan is less detached from the original trajectory, I’d say it’s quite embedded into it. When the work leaves my studio, it always returns transformed and demands a new direction, a new operational hand. I have four spaceships in my studio that will soon require my full attention.

09 — TELL US A QUESTION YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ASKED

I wish I was asked for my consent more often.

AND ONE YOU WOULD NEVER ANSWER :)

If you keep asking, I might end up answering a question I usually wouldn’t.

10 — WHICH QUESTION WOULD YOU LIKE TO ASK US?

Your YYYYMMDD identity is very distinct. Back in 2006, when I was a 3rd grader, pink and red was still a faux pas. I’m curious to hear your story behind the pink.

A few years ago — to be more precise right in the beginning of 2020 — we understood we needed to relaunch our homepage, we needed something new but what exactly we didn't know. As always, the idea cooked for a bit longer and then pandemic hit. We instinctively felt that we needed something other than black and white. We needed colour — something fun — so our hunt for possible colour candidates started… although we must honestly admit that pink and red were from the beginning without any real competition. So pink and red it turned out to be and still is. And yes it´s named to be a colour faux pax by many but we could not love it more — we find it is one of the coolest combinations of colours out there and it is YYYYMMDD <3

11 — WHOM OF YOUR NETWORK WOULD YOU DEFINITELY LIKE US TO GET TO KNOW?

My incredible dancers and collaborators over the years: Mihaela Vasiliu/Chlorys, Hunor Varga, Marcos Zoe Nacar, Andrea Bambini, Milena Lui, Zara Sands, Sian Fan, Elisabeth Mulenga, Geo Aghinea, and many more.

00.01 — AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST — TELL US A SONG FOR THIS INTERVIEW :)

Option 1: Feminine Energy - Cobrah
Option 2: encore - Shygirl, Danny L Harle, Club Shy

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Catinca Malaimare born 1996 in Bucharest, Romania is a London-based artist. She received her MA at the Royal Academy School, UK and her BFA at the University for Creative Arts, UK. Nostalgia lingers in Catinca Malaimare’s work where technological objects are reunited with estranged lovers in the form of performance, sculpture, audio and film, revealing our intimate relationship with technological tools. Dating back to the 90s, the objects employed become emblems of time. What once were desirable, are now relics of a society in a hurry. Using poetic, spiritual gestures, Malaimare facilitates ephemeral, fleeting moments which acknowledges our technological co-dependence. Malaimare contextualises her characters and their intervention with archaic technological elements and space in a multidimensional, continuous loop, even without their physical presence. Together the components of her installations and the performance play with time and metaphor, building on an ongoing observation of obsolete technologies.

[01] Astropriest, 2023, Brooke Benington, London (UK) / Photo: Rob Harris
[02] Astropriest, 2023, Brooke Benington, London (UK) / Photo: Rob Harris
[03] Astropriest, 2023, Brooke Benington, London Gallery Weekend, London (UK)
[04] Gamma and Omega hold hands, 2023, Zabludowicz Collection (UK) / Photo: Tim Bowditch
[05] Gamma and Omega hold hands, 2023, Zabludowicz Collection (UK) / Photo: Tim Bowditch
[06] Gamma and Omega hold hands, 2023, Zabludowicz Collection (UK) / Photo: Tim Bowditch
[07] Gamma and Omega hold hands, 2023, Zabludowicz Collection (UK) / Videography: Iron and Glass
[08] Her+Her+You, 2023, 4K Single-channel / Video still
[09] Her+Her+You, 2023, 4K Single-channel / Video still
[10] Her+Her+You, 2023, 4K Single-channel
[11] Jinx, Nevesta!, 2024, EIGEN + ART Lab (D) / Photo: Johannes Kremer
[12] Jinx, Nevesta!, 2024, EIGEN + ART Lab (D) / Photo: Johannes Kremer
[13] Jinx, Nevesta!, 2024, EIGEN + ART Lab (D) / Photo: Johannes Kremer
[14] Jinx, Nevesta!, 2024, EIGEN + ART Lab (D)
[15] Immersive performance, 2024, Club Are (UK) / Photo: Dani D'Ingeo
[16] Immersive performance, 2024, Club Are (UK) / Photo: Dani D'Ingeo
[17] Immersive performance, 2024, Club Are (UK) / Photo: Dani D'Ingeo
[18] Metamour, 2023, Final Hot Desert (UK) / Photo: Daniel Browne

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