Shana Nys Dambrot
With a taste for the sumptuous detail and prismatic colors of 17th-century Dutch still life painting, and an equal love for picturesque landscape and the random plastic garbage she collects on her daily walks, Constance Mallinson blends classic modes of art history with a critique of modern hyper-consumerism. Like Rauschenberg on his one-block-radius hunt for his Combine series’ sculptural materials, she accumulates and hoards all manner of found objects—toys, food wrappers, containers, ribbons, balloons, figurines, accessories, electronics, grooming tools, giftwrap, bubble wrap, styrofoam, tape, tokens, bags, dolls, straws, novelties, baby stuff, stress balls—before arranging them into compositions, and rendering their kaleidoscopes of clutter in photorealist, 1:1 scale.
Constance Mallinson: Playing With Sea Animals, Oil on Canvas, 18 x 24 in, 2023 (Courtesy of rdfa)
Evoking surprise, delight, disgust, nostalgia, whimsy, humor, horror, and shame, Mallinson’s prismatic paintings are confoundingly, deliberately beautiful, creating a cognitive dissonance in the viewer between the work’s seductive aesthetic and its spotlighting of our environmentally toxic behavior. As a pink plastic Koonsian rabbit perches on a glacier and it all melts into the sea; as shimmering plastic ribbons slither across verdant forests; as rare tree frogs dissolve into a bit of AbEx frenzy, we are reminded that when we throw things away, there is no such thing as “away.”
Constance Mallinson: Melting Plastic Bunny and Greenland, Oil on Canvas, 8 x 8 in, 2023 (Courtesy of rdfa)
The L.A. Weekly corresponded with Mallinson on the occasion of her current solo exhibition—a series of intimately scaled paintings in which she pursues her issues-based ideas, obsessive gathering of detritus, and advanced studio technique. Rather than the large, even monumental, scale at which she is known to work, in this series Mallinson offers small-scale works replete with intimate gestures, distilled narratives, and hidden treasures. At this scale as well, Mallinson is thinking about cycles, stories, and hands—her own/the artist’s, the viewer’s, and perhaps most of all the hands that first manufactured then shipped, owned, and finally discarded the treasured trash Mallinson would later collect by hand for use in an entirely new purpose.
Constance Mallinson: Party Decorations and Darein Gap, Oil on Canvas, 12 x 16 in, 2023 (Courtesy of rdfa)
L.A. WEEKLY: When did you first know you were an artist?
CONSTANCE MALLINSON: “Artist” is a culturally constructed identity that has many implications so until one reaches art school or slightly before, one does not attach great meaning to the word. But in looking back, I think I met some of the criteria when: I could keep myself endlessly engaged in an activity and didn’t need outside entertainment; I often chose to play by myself rather than with my friends; I preferred making things to buying them; I asked a lot of questions; I really (often to my chagrin) did not fit in with the crowd. Now I know why!
What is your short answer to people who ask what your work is about?
OK, I’ll try not to be as long-winded as I usually am. Using the traditional language of paint with its unique qualities of color, compositional and formal freedoms and its rich history the paintings bring into focus the “fatal attraction” of late capitalist hyper consumption. From my daily walks through the urban streets I glean all manner of mostly plastic post consumer objects, many of which are stunningly beautiful and seductive (especially when rendered in paint) but are contributing to the demise of the planet. We all share in this abundance/waste cycle so here it is documented for consideration.
Constance Mallinson: Swims with the Fishes, Oil on Canvas, 9 x 12 in, 2023 (Courtesy of rdfa)
What would you be doing if you weren’t an artist?
Probably something in the other arts. I contemplated careers in music, acting, and writing. Seems art was easiest for me and I wouldn’t age out when my voice failed. Although my daughters tell me I should have been a therapist.
Why do you live and work in LA and not elsewhere?
I contemplated NYC quite a bit but moved here from Washington, DC with my spouse in the late 70’s. I found L.A. exciting and especially loved the proximity to so many natural wonders. Now that I have an amazing garden I can’t imagine life without it in a concrete jungle, as it feeds me in so many ways. The vibrancy of the art community is fantastic.
Constance Mallinson: Found Abstraction, Oil on Canvas, 6 x 6 in, 2023 (Courtesy of rdfa)
When was your current show or project?
I currently have an exhibition of “Recent Small Works” at Rory Devine Fine Art in West Adams through October 28. I typically have worked in a monumental scale and for this show reversed course and tried to pack in as much content and visual punch as I could on a small scale.
What artist living or dead would you most like to show your work with?
I continue to study Dutch still life from the 17th century and find many similarities with that period—the ostentatious display of wealth and sumptuous objects, voracious capitalism—so artists such as Pieter Boel, Jacob Jordaens, and Willem Kalf would make an interesting pairing. But in the present I will be having a two-person exhibition with my long time friend and colleague, painter Merion Estes, next year and am very much looking forward to our mutual show with two different approaches to similar content.
Constance Mallinson: Frog & Paint, Oil on Canvas, 6 x 6 in, 2023 (Courtesy of rdfa)
Do you listen to music while you work?
I absolutely have to! I have a very diverse taste in music: Bach keyboard, English 20th Century Modern, Bill Evans, Keith Jarrett, a lot of the new Icelandic composers like Nils Frahm, Max Richter, Arvo Part, Harold Budd, all the way to Johnny Greenwood and Black Country. The list is too huge to enumerate, except that since I studied piano I listen to a lot of it.
Website, etc.!
Constance Mallinson: Green Trash, Oil on Canvas, 9 x 12 in, 2023 (Courtesy of rdfa)
Constance Mallinson: Color Coordinated, Oil on Canvas, 9 x 12 in, 2023 (Courtesy of rdfa)
Constance Mallinson: White Trash, Oil on Canvas, 16 x 16 in, 2023 (Courtesy of rdfa)
October 19, 2023
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