Lisa Perkins Koep

I recognize the web and dance that make up the helix of my creativity. It is first one of transformation, then performance, and critique. My current works emerge from the space between the beauty and the torment of nature and nurture.

When I begin my art process, I am reminded of the transformation of the butterfly. I find myself in a place of creative destruction- one that writhes through my physical existence as a push and pull between chaos and control. That creative destruction eventually re-emerges in the pieces I make. I am fascinated by nature’s ability to reproduce and reflect back to itself in a myriad of ways. My collections of curiosities are sourced from both the natural and the industrialized world. This re-emergence requires me to create order out of upheaval, isolating my subjects and creating environments for them to exist in. These environments exist either within a physical boundary or an invisible one. They are almost always connected to the natural world, staging or creating a performance space. It feels much like my own personal theater- a space for exercising controlled chaos. In my work I aim to illuminate the violence against nature that is disguised as an innate position. Through my studio practice I hope to inspire a re-evaluation of humanity’s interconnectedness with the natural world. I observe, then feel the desire to be in this interconnected relationship with the specimen/object in front of me. Examining the micro vs macro, synthetic vs natural, controlled vs nature, tension, and duality, these are the polarities I play with in my practice. My goal is to showcase the sublime- the awe of nature’s beauty and un-bequeathed terror of humanity’s impact on it. It is here where both artist and viewer can critique the dichotomy of these relationships.

“We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty”.-Maya Angelou

In Pip and Offspring, I use the watermelon seed and milk to represent humanity, nature, and nurture. There was a time not long ago where the watermelon seed was a rich fertile seed within the fruit. Today the watermelon has been genetically modified, from a colossal farm-raised melon to a small seedless round one. The seed is a translucent or opaque skeleton, a ghost-like remnant. Milk is the first bit of nutrients we take in as babies. It nurtures us, helps us to grow, and is crucial to our existence.

These two representations are used as characters. They represent how humanity is being altered by the effects of desensitization in the media, genetic modification, and the impacts of technology on our children and society as a whole.

Pip and Offspring is an excerpt from this series of work. It provided an opportunity to explore several different mediums, from wax molds, to wood, clay, and silicone, resulting in these seed skins interacting with the forces of nature and the subversion of our current culture.

Pareidolia I happened accidentally, as an offshoot from my experimentation using milk in my latter work, Pip and Offspring. I’ve always been fascinated with the pictures our minds make out of the clouds in the sky. In my exploration of nature and nurture, I use milk as a symbol of something that nurtures us. I also wanted to replicate what it might feel like for this substance to be poisoned. Enter the black ink. This intrusion can appear like a virus, or like motor oil infecting the purity of this substance. To my surprise I found that when you mix these two materials together- one that is manufactured and one that is made from nature, mysterious things can happen. Maybe it’s our minds trying to make sense of it all, to find hope, a silver lining. But what I found was a new creation. Much like when nature is forced to change, it creates something new. And that something new can sometimes be beautiful.

This collection is a result of these two materials interacting with one another. The images captured are similar to what we see when we spend time gazing up at the sky. You might see a horse, the earth’s crust, a child enjoying the scent of a flower, or maybe even Godzilla. The videos present an aesthetic dialogue of what happens when the two come together.

My eye is drawn to discarded pieces of bark I find on my hikes in the woods. Inevitably I haul them home with no real plan, just knowing they need my attention. Quite often it isn’t until I’m back in my studio turning the piece over and around that it begins to speak to me. Sometimes I imagine spirits inhabiting these objects. Other times, I feel it is mother nature creating her little pieces of art. I feel lucky to be given the lens in which to capture their personas.

Brand Building is a sample series that focuses the lens on consumerism affected by mass production, over-processing, and genetic modification. Things that we considered precious 20 years ago now have very little value. And yet there is a need for the advertising industry to continue to drive our desire to have the next best thing. This work points to products altered in such a way that does not occur naturally by mating and/or natural recombination, hence genetically modified organisms.

This series is another evolution from Pip and Offspring.

Our world has been dealt two extreme challenges this sping- COVID-19 and another rapid sweep of radical social injustices. Our spirits have been broken, we’ve been physically and emotionally divided and generational trauma has been felt across the nation. This series utilizes items that are all commonplace. I couldn't help but think about how these materials represent specific roles in our culture. Milk representing nurture, Cheerios serve as a household name and symbol for our traditional American culture, strawberries play a role in nature, black ink can represent disease and the dark side of humanity, the newsprint represents our media and the various political and governmental arms. When interacting, these social constructs have a huge impact on our lives.

This project came out of pure curiosity to create an infection between the Cheerios and the milk, with ink acting like a virus. The vibrant red strawberry appears to be turning black as if being poisoned. The milk is curdled. The paint is masking areas of the newsprint while leaving an imprint where the Cheerios once were. I was intrigued by the interplay between our current affairs and the paint masking those words while leaving a ghostly shadow behind. I had no idea that this process would result in another layer of new work that I’ve barely scratched the surface of.

Cupula came from a necessity to process my own artistic journey. My daily campus walks from the art department to the library were often detoured to the oak trees, where I found myself foraging these caps left behind after our squirrel friends scavenged the seeds. To my eye, they looked like mini masterpieces. My love for color found its way into these little caps. The caps became canvases where I dripped, poured and stirred together paints in an attempt to co-create with nature. My goal was to give each cupula its own unique character just like Mother Nature had given each one its own unique DNA. This process aided me through several series of other works. The 30 caps shown here are a sampling of the 200 I’ve completed so far. They have been placed on astroturf that has been altered, acting as a background while representing the synthetic forces we have inflicted on nature.