Artist | Winslow Smith| Rockella Space

MEMBER FEATURE:

WINSLOW SMITH, Artist

Our monthly Member Feature aims to showcase the talent that occupies our buildings and celebrate their work.

This month, we interviewed Rockella Space Member Winslow Smith to learn more about his practice and how textiles inspire and are incorporated into his paintings.

Winslow was one the very first artists who moved into Brown Bears Studios back in 2017 and lives and works in Brooklyn, NY. Working with a mix of textiles, Smith makes abstracted still life paintings that explore how objects form and deform our sense of the material world. Various textiles inform the paintings’ construction and pattern, holding dense information of production and use. His work has been shown in New York and Chicago.

To learn more about the creatives who call Rockella Space home, head over to the People page for a full list of in-depth interviews.

Who are you and what do you do?

 

My name is Winslow Smith, I was born in Delmar, NY and raised there and in Bryn Mawr, PA. I came to New York in 2006. I’m an artist, and I make paintings that often incorporate various textiles.

How long have you been at Rockella Space and what is your favorite thing about having a studio at Brown Bears Studios?

 

I’ve been at Rockella since 2017. Easily one of my favorite things has been watching the community grow, there’s so many types of practitioners here and everyone leaves their mark.

Have you connected and/or created a community with any other artists in the building?

 

For sure; I’ve met other artists, made friends, friends of mine have ended up here – and it’s fun running into the wider array of ventures going on in the building. The night times are a very nice time to spend in the building.

Tell us about your work. What inspires you to create the work that you do?

 

So much inspires me;

I make paintings, and painting is something I returned to just before covid lockdown after a long absence. So painting is pretty exciting right now, as it feels new again.

Painting can be an author of the work, it has a big say, so that conversation is something I’m always wanting to get back to.

Also I have a seven year old who likes to draw a lot, and kids will set a high bar with how much juice they bring to making art. So if I’m setting out to the studio and not bringing that type of energy…you got to.

Lastly: other artists inspire me, who set high high bars, and that’s a list that’s always in flux depending on what I’m seeing, being shown and looking for.

Your work integrates textiles, particularly deadstock upholstery, into your abstracted still life paintings. What initially drew you to working with these materials, and how do they shape the narratives in your work?

 

I started working with textiles in 2013, when I was working in the Garment District, in an office, so I was, like, uncomfortably bored during the day and I would use my lunch hour to get out and walk around. And at that point there was still a critical mass of textile shops that had these very large inventories of fabric that seemed to have accumulated over years and years – they were true archives – and you could just find your way into these spaces and browse.

So that’s where my curiosity and love for the trade of it all started, and I ended up using fabrics more and more in my work.

Can you discuss the process of selecting textiles for your paintings? What qualities do you look for in a fabric before incorporating it into your compositions?

 

I would be lying if I said that I didn’t buy stuff I like, and that has great color. But there’s a lot of stuff I see and love and don’t buy because it’s just only that.

You mentioned deadstock upholstery, and that’s also true, I mainly buy upholsteries and it’s mostly all from FabScrap now, because the Garment District is basically not there anymore in the way where you can go to the back and ask if they have any ‘remnant’ to look through.

I continue to be drawn to upholstery because it presents its use or function so clearly. You don’t have to know much about textile to pick up a piece of upholstery and know that making a shirt out of it wouldn’t be ‘right.’ We produce it for objects, not people. So one other criteria I use in selecting fabric is for it to have a clarity – kind of like it could  stand up as something other than just its color or texture, and I think that something else is related to its use.

Your paintings explore how objects form and deform our perception of the material world. How do you see this theme evolving in your work, and what drives your interest in the materiality of objects?

 

Right now I’m exploring what I’ll call objects of decor, because I’m curious about the artificial things by which we design our worlds. They exist for the corporeal but I’m wondering about what else they do.

Textiles carry a history of production and use. How do you think the inherent stories within these fabrics contribute to the overall meaning of your paintings?

 

We’re beginning to talk about the consequences of the opaque manufacturing of textiles – the humanitarian and ecological crises that are embedded in it. I think that’s partly why you see the formalization of ‘deadstock’ as an available supply, and there are some brilliant designers and artists working in that zone; Lou Dallas is one of my favorites.

In relation to painting, textiles are always around, so I started to incorporate them directly into the picture almost out of a gravity, like they fell in. I think now the differing materials are digesting together, so the relationships are changing and it’s hard to say for certain. But paintings are objects too, and often ones of interior design, so that’s a recurring analogy, or literalism.

Abstraction plays a significant role in your practice. How do you balance abstraction with the recognizable elements of still life, and what challenges or freedoms does this approach present?

 

I’m not looking for balance, so the challenge I hope to take on is pushing an image to a place where you recognize it but don’t name it. That comes from painting, which I guess I approach as fundamentally abstract.

 

Maxie’s Daughter Fabric Row, 2023, oil and acrylic on canvas, 33 x 30 in (83.8 x 76.3 cm)

The concept of still life traditionally involves inanimate objects. How do you reinterpret this genre through your abstracted approach, and what does the still life mean to you in the context of your work?

 

The paintings I’m working on now are investigations around presence, being present and then maybe leaving that state too. What’s exciting to me about a still life is that it can go in that direction, despite its roots in another tradition.

 

Untitled, 2024, acrylic, upholstery and polyester, 38 x 28 in (96.5 x 71 cm)

Your paintings seem to oscillate between two-dimensional patterns and three-dimensional forms. How do you navigate this interplay, and what effect do you hope it has on the viewer’s perception?

 

Recently I’ve stuffed some shapes and reattached them to the paintings. This has grown out of the materials, how they interact, and just painting. When I first started using textiles, sewing and painting were totally separate, I had to keep them in opposite corners. Now they’re on top of each other, and I go back and forth with ease. I want the work to be similarly accessible to a viewer.

 

Drawing 3, 2024, graphite and charcoal on paper, 11.75 x 11.25 in (29 x 28.5 cm)

Can you talk about the significance of pattern in your work? How do the patterns in your textiles influence the overall composition and the viewer’s experience of your paintings?

 

When I’m working with the various materials what I’m looking for is when things become greater than the sum of their parts. Textiles sometimes contain unique patterns, but I’m always surprised by how painting amplifies those patterns, and that activation can add a bit of trance to the work, which I like.

 

Bridgewater Chair Pattern, 2024, acrylic and upholstery, 38 x 28 in (96.5 x 71 cm)

In what ways do you think your work comments on or critiques consumer culture, particularly through your use of deadstock upholstery and other recycled materials?

 

In so much as using ‘deadstock’ fabrics is about the material world that is lived through and discarded, maybe there’s some relation, but if anything I’m more interested in how our present is as defined by memory as it is by what’s right in front of us.

What I do like to celebrate is the unique fabric stores that are still around. A town’s fabric district is a special thing, because you always find stuff in those shops and in those locales that you just can’t find anywhere else – they are an archive. Philadelphia is one of the closer textile hubs to us, and I still remember this fabric I found, and used, at a now closed store called Maxie’s Daughter.

As you continue to develop your practice, are there new materials or themes you’re excited to explore? What can we expect to see in your upcoming work?

 

I couldn’t say; I try my best to stay in the moment right now, because that’s the way the work happens for me.

 

Mirror 1, 2024, acrylic and upholstery, 31 x 23 in (78.8 x 58.5 cm

If you were to invite anyone alive or dead to a dinner party, who would be on your guest list?

 

My kid recently got interested in chimpanzees, which led to reading about evolution, which led to reading about other homo genus beings that lived before and alongside us. It’s foreboding that they’re all dead, and it’s just us now. So I would have a dinner party with some of our extinct homo genus cousins.

 

Crews, 2023, acrylic and upholstery, 43 x 34 in (109 x 86.3 cm)

What advice would you give to aspiring artists, particularly those wanting to move to NYC, who are looking to pursue a career in the art world?

 

For me New York is about people, so if you are going to move here, talk to people, and enjoy it! Also mind your business.

 

Untitled, 2024, acrylic and upholstery, 27  x 23 in (68.5 x 58.5 cm)

What projects/exhibitions have you got coming up?

 

My partner and I had a baby recently so I took a pause, but I’m excited about the latest work and pursuing as many opportunities to show as possible.

 

Brown Lemon, 2022, nylon, upholstery and canvas, 40 x 32 in (101.5 x 81.3 cm)

Where can people see your work in IRL or online, and how can people contact you for a studio visit?

 

People can view my work both in person and online. To explore my portfolio and latest projects digitally, you can visit my website at www.winslowsmith.com, where I regularly update with new works, exhibitions, and news. I also share insights into my process and behind-the-scenes moments on Instagram, where you can follow me at @vvinslovvsmith.

If you’re interested in arranging a studio visit, I welcome the opportunity for in-person conversations about my work. Feel free to reach out to me via email at winslowsmithstudio@gmail.com to schedule a visit. I look forward to connecting!

 

Jug, 2024, acrylic and upholstery, 38 x 28 in (96.5 x 71 cm)