In the Studio with Mimi Herbert

Simona Cristanetti, sculpture conservator, dusts Butterfly during the installation of the exhibition.

Mimi Herbert’s acrylic sculpture Butterfly, 2021, is among the works featured in Pour, Tear, Carve: Material Possibilities in the Collection. The fabrication process of this striking work intrigued museum staff. As part of an ongoing initiative to document the materials and techniques of works entering the collection, conservators and curators were pleased to conduct an interview with Herbert in January 2023. The interviews allow museum staff to learn more about the artists’ practice and assist conservators in developing plans for the care of works of art. The group was given a comprehensive tour through Herbert’s three-room studio and was introduced to her process, which included participating in the creation of a sculpture.

Paper maquette indicating dimensions and where folds will be made.

Herbert conceives her idea for a sculpture first by working with a paper maquette. During this phase, she determines the size of the sheet of acrylic that will be needed, and where the folds will be made.

Herbert with different colored sheets of acrylic against the wall that she obtains from a California supplier.

The acrylic is cut to the dimensions needed following the designs that she makes using the maquettes. The sheet is then laid on top of a custom-built table with a bank of heat lamps to soften different sections of the acrylic where she plans to make folds. Above, the right side of the orange piece of acrylic is being heated in order to be manipulated after becoming pliable.

Heating the acrylic sheet

Herbert observes the section of acrylic after being heated for a short time to see if it is malleable enough to fold. Phillips staff (left to right: curator Renee Maurer, conservator Lilli Steele, and curator Camille Brown) stand ready to assist the artist. Because of the intense light and heat, the artist and any assistants always wear dark goggles and heat resistant gloves for protection.

Moving the acrylic sheet

When the sheet is sufficiently softened, it is removed from the heat and placed on a worktable.

Folding the acrylic sheet

Herbert demonstrates how she makes the first fold, smoothing the heated edge of the acrylic with a soft cloth. The acrylic sheet cools and becomes unworkable in less than a minute so the artist and her assistants must work quickly.

Mimi Herbert, Durga Reclining, 2023

Several weeks later, the work that began with Phillips staff participation, entitled Durga Reclining, was completed by Herbert and her studio assistants. The painstaking complexity of her process can be fully appreciated after having followed her steps from inception of the piece through folding and manipulating the warmed acrylic sheets to arrive at beautiful abstract sculptures.

Pour, Tear, Carve: The Possibilities of Metal

Explore how artists in Pour, Tear, Carve: Material Possibilities in the Collection (on view through May 14) use various materials in different ways in their art, and how their choices convey meaning to their work.

Take a look at the works below that incorporate metal and consider:

  • • What’s one detail you didn’t notice the first time you looked at each object?
  • • What role does the metal play in stimulating the senses?
Fainting Couch, Valeska Soares; 2002; Stainless steel, flowers, and textile; 78 3/4 in x 23 1/2 in x 13 3/4 in; 200.03 cm x 59.69 cm x 34.93 cm; Gift from the Heather and Tony Podesta Collection, Washington, DC, 2012

Valeska Soares, Fainting Couch, 2002, Stainless steel, textile, and flowers, 78 3/4 x 23 1/2 x 13 3/4 in., Gift from the Heather and Tony Podesta Collection, Washington, DC, 2012

Valeska Soares, Fainting Couch, 2002

“I don’t like tricks when it comes to materials. . . . I need to feel that the work is true.”—Valeska Soares

Fainting Couch blends the use of organic (flowers) and inorganic (steel) materials to create an unexpected sensorial experience. Soares harnesses the intrinsic properties of her materials, allowing them to engage with and interact with each other as well as the space that they inhabit. Lie on Soares’s steel couch. How does the steel feel against your back? Can you smell the Stargazer lilies enclosed in the compartment below?

Nicholas Galanin, Let Them Enter Dancing Showing Their Faces: Thief, 2018, Monotype and gold leaf on paper, 30 x 21 in., Director’s Discretionary Fund, 2021

Nicholas Galanin, Let Them Enter Dancing Showing Their Faces: Thief, 2018

This work is drawn from Nicholas Galanin’s 2018 print series with the same name, derived from a Tlingit ancestral entrance dance where the face is revealed, not masked.

The artist views the spontaneity of the printmaking process as “an attempt at capturing cultural memory that is accessed through connections to land, through skinning a deer, through cleaning a salmon—and teaching your children to do all of that. We have these things ingrained in our memory and in our DNA. Whatever that feeling is, it’s not something you can look at, and it’s not something you can hold. But you can feel it, and it comes and goes.”

Alejandro Pintado, Perpendicular Time, 2014, Charcoal and acrylic on canvas with painted metal bar, 51 x 60 in., Director’s Discretionary Fund, 2016

Alejandro Pintado, Perpendicular Time, 2014

Alejandro Pintado uses charcoal on unprimed canvas to depict delicate, pastoral landscapes juxtaposed with geometric forms. The places Pintado convey are both real and imagined, representing scenes from 18th- and 19th-century paintings and engravings. His bold interventions—the strike of red across the canvas and the black-and-white metal bar—serve as a reminder that these places did not occur organically, but were constructed and formed.

Pour, Tear, Carve: The Possibilities of Paper

Explore how artists in Pour, Tear, Carve: Material Possibilities in the Collection (on view through May 14) use various materials in different ways in their art, and how their choices convey meaning to their work.

Take a look at the works below that incorporate paper and consider:

  • • Can you identify how paper is being used in each of these objects?
  • • How have your lived experiences shaped how you view and think about the use of paper in these objects?
  • • How will you see paper differently in the future?

Jae Ko, Untitled (JK 719), 2012, Rolled paper, glue and calligraphy ink, 55 x 13 x 10 in., Gift of James A. and Marsha Perry Mateyka, 2022

Jae Ko, Untitled (JK 719), 2012

“I like working with this paper, twisting it until it could no longer be twisted.”–Jae Ko

Jae Ko manipulates paper into three-dimensional forms, creating painted sculptural bundles that spill and flow and wall and floor pieces that fold and stack. For Untitled (JK 719), Ko transformed commercial adding machine receipt paper, removing the plastic spools, and rewinding the paper into large coils that explore the energy trapped inside the dense layers. Curving and twisting the roll three times then securing the spiral form in two parts, Ko invents a dynamic sculpture that explores the possibility and power of paper. Ko initiated this series of work in the early 2000s after an inspired visit to Inyo National Forest in California to see the dramatic, windswept bristlecone pines.

Joyce Wellman, Journey through Migration, 1985, Color viscosity etching, 22 x 16 in., Gift of the artist, 2022

Joyce Wellman, Journey through Migration, 1985

Through viscosity printing, which uses multiple colors of ink on a single plate, Wellman documents migration. Her abstracted print creates a contemporary complement to panels from Jacob Lawrence’s Migration Series (1940-41).

“I [wanted to] create work in the printmaking medium that became vehicles by which the viewer could journey through contemplative space. It has always been through abstraction that I have sought to express my feelings.”—Joyce Wellman

Marta Pérez García, Nameless 7, 2022, Colored abaca handmade paper, 56 x 14 x 10 in., The Phillips Collection, Purchase through the Gift of Robert and Barbara Liotta (through the Sidney and Nina Josephs Trust) in honor of Dorothy Kosinski, 2022

Marta Pérez García, Nameless 7, 2022

“They’re headless because it’s not one particular person. . . . I tried to give, in a way, visibility to the women who are not here anymore, but at the same time for us to see in these bodies our lives.”—Marta Pérez García

Marta Pérez García’s Nameless series, from which this hanging figure is drawn, was created in response to the increase in domestic violence during the COVID-19 lockdown, when many, particularly women and children, were forced to isolate with their abusers. Nameless 7 is made of handmade and colored abaca paper which the artist wet and shaped across the form, a commercial mannequin. According to Pérez García, “abaca does whatever—it fights back . . . there is the surprise of the materials; it has its own voice.”