Richard Tuttle

© Richard Tuttle 2007. Photo courtesy Sperone Westwater, New York

Richard Tuttle, "Section II, Extension C." (2007)

© Richard Tuttle 2007. Photo courtesy Sperone Westwater, New York

Richard Tuttle, "Section I, Extension H." (2007)

Richard Tuttle Acquisitions at the Whitney, Nelson-Atkins, High Editor's Letter Wrangling Over Resales Shopping for Sculpture Homecoming Giorgio Morandi Many Splendid Things

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I think that it’s necessary to achieve art that is reality-based. In our culture, imitation-based experience dominates reality-based experience. I find this an awful thing. But there are artists who know from the bottom of their souls that art is about the experience of reality. The reason we have art is because you can’t get a real experience from the world. Philosophers can’t tell you, religion can’t tell you. So art has become hugely important.

But our culture suppresses art. In our culture, the people who need art to survive are given the message that they’re weirdos. Every day and from every corner of the world they’re getting the message that art is imitation-based, which is absolutely the opposite of the truth. You would never base your life on imitation. Even the people who are saying to do it never would. It’s fucked. It’s really fucked.

What do you think has brought this state of affairs about?

This is a very special moment in human history, I think. We have a very clear vision right back to the foundation of our particular culture, and you can see that at the foundation of our culture, the artists worked out the theory and the practice of art. The theory is that art is reality-based, and the practice is to make something that shows that. But it’s tough. It’s hard. Every part of it is hard. The Hellenistic philosophers said things will be a lot easier if we say that art is imitation-based. They didn’t care, because they weren’t artists and they had a lot to gain from art being less than it is. So it stumbles along, year after year, without really satisfying anyone.

Every once in a while, usually in really desperate periods, when life becomes totally confused and almost unlivable, artists come back and create art that is reality-based, and everyone says, “thank you very much.” But then as soon as they can, they turn back to the imitation-based art.

Can you give me an example of how art is presently conceived as imitation-based?

Well, in the New York Times, art is treated as “entertainment.” When you get tired and you want to be distracted, then there’s art. There was a recent review that said, “Don’t expect to find tickets for Richard Tuttle’s show at Ticketron!” This is not that kind of show. This is about art as a necessity. There are shows where people will stand in line for blocks, but those are not about necessity. Fortunately, most of the world is not desperate enough that they need this kind of thing. But people who still have art in their lives, they’d be dead without it, because the suppression of art is so enormous.

There must have been particular pressure in preparing a new show immediately after a major retrospective. How do you feel at this point?

I’m enormously proud, because [the retrospective went to] six museums—that doesn’t normally happen. When shows travel they normally lose energy, but this picked up energy as it went along.

One of the reasons this new show at Sperone Westwater is important for me is that it has shown me that there are cycles of life. I’m entering a new phase. People talk about “retirement,” but I see this almost as a plateau from which I’ll develop. I wanted to make this as telling an exhibition as possible, because I’m going to go on. You have to do what you do. In art history, for example, Goya went to Bordeaux, Monet went to Giverny. David Smith began doing the stainless steel pieces. You’ve done what you’ve done. You don’t give a shit anymore. If you’re making the world, you’ve got more than enough to do.

But how did you go about making this show?

A show is so mysterious. You can make a show with two pieces, or you can make a show with a thousand pieces. But this much I know—there has to be unity.

My work has never wanted to choose between painting, sculpture, and drawing, but for me this work finally chooses sculpture. That’s the real love. I’m pleased with that because I think that sculpture is the highest visual art. Which means it’s the most expressive. It has the most possibility to express emotion. In this show I reached a point where I saw very clearly that there’s breadth and there’s depth—those are the polarities that can be expanded in an artwork. For myself as a maker, I have to choose. Do I go broad or do I go deep?