Sculpture, photography, painting, and textile pieces by Nanney and Otterson were originally brought together by Rondinone for a two-person exhibition at Martos Gallery in New York in the spring of To introduce this traveling exhibition, Rondinone has chosen a candid and intimate conversation between the New York-based artist and writer Jarrett Earnest, Nanney, and Otterson, which began in May to mark the opening of the Martos Gallery exhibition.
Part two of the conversation took place in March to further explore the decades-long relationship between Nanney and Otterson and provide new insights into the work on view in Zurich. I think I know "βor, rather: What is the most unlikely thingβfilm, album, artwork, or object, etc. How and when did it first enter your life?
Joe dollβ My brother and I were avid cartoons and comic book fans, obsessed with superheroes. Superheroes were drawn with form-fitting costumes that were perceived by me, as a child, to be basically naked with loud graphics covering their bodies. So, my brother and I immediately disposed of our G. We would then spend time formulating imaginary graphic costumes for each of them, giving them names, secret identities, superpowers, whole histories. One of my G. Joe's was named George.
George's superpower was that he could change into Gloria. I stole a few Barbie wigs from Sue Loveland, who lived down the street and crammed them onto George's head a blond poof was his favorite. I fashioned dresses out of handkerchiefs and bits of fabric I found around the house.
I cut up a rubber band into short lengths to make non-cancer-causing cigarettes for Gloria. I thought smoking was glamorous, but I didn't want to endanger Gloria's life. I was six years old. I had no real idea about sex or homosexuality and certainly no concept of being trans, but all of that seems to have been functioning intuitively.
