Outside Convention There Are No Rules
Lori Kinsman
The art of Julie Lucus defies easy categorization. Words like powerful, intriguing, erotic, shocking, whimsical and downright disturbing have all been used to describe her work, and justifiably so.
From the outside, Lucus’ home/studio appears as ordinary as one would expect from suburbia. White picket fences aside, entering her studio is like stepping into another world; one that is significantly darker and 180 degrees off-kilter from the sensibilities of the small town where she works and lives. Bins overflowing with detached baby-doll heads, animal skulls, fabrics, mosaic tile, resin, sheet metals and various works-in-progress spill over into the living areas.
Lucus began her career with functional art; transforming vintage steel furniture into usable art objects, but soon felt this medium was too limiting to fully explore her ideas. Lucus eventually settled on a process that involves many elements: sculpture, assemblage, mosaic and resins. She uses both new and recycled materials, often disassembling them and then reassembling them in new, startlingly exotic combinations.
In much of her art there is a certain amount of worldliness, contrasted by a feeling of irony and mischievous good humor. Other pieces reflect ideas about sex, tolerance, gender, consumerism and religion. Still others project raw feelings about pain, loss and ultimately, survival.
Lucus states, "I often address issues that are controversial, and I incorporate cultural and metaphorical icons in my art. Whether people like my work or not, it almost always ignites some type of dialogue, and I am very satisfied with that. I think it is easy for people to get tangled up in societal expectations, so they turn off their minds to ideas outside those parameters. To get people to discuss topics they wouldn’t normally talk about is a very good thing in my mind."
Representing these ideals is Fashion Victim, comprised of a plastic baby doll body and a beaver skull head. It is adorned with vintage costume jewelry and beaver fur. Blood red paint is contrasted with golden glitter, emphasizing the prices that are paid for the sake of human vanity and consumerism.
Maria, a life-sized assemblage sculpture, has also generated a lot of dialogue. She is composed of thousands of metal screws, chrome and silver parts. Maria took over 600 hours of work using metal objects of all types ranging from a martini shaker to a kazoo. Each of her hands is composed of a full set of antique typewriter keys; her face is a mosaic of hundreds of tiny, mirrored tiles. Maria is a survivor, a warrior, a woman. While her exterior appears tough and intimidating, she is still intriguingly feminine. While not representative of most of Lucus’ work, this sculpture and the interest it generated has given Lucus new opportunities to display her other works.
When asked to discuss her art, Lucus is pensive. "Sometimes I think I am the least-equipped person to describe what my work represents. I mean, I feel what it is about, but that doesn’t always translate into words people expect to hear." In fact, with so much time and energy put into creating elaborate artist statements, Lucus wonders how some artists find time to make art. "I’m not sure I buy into the whole artist statement, anyway," she says. "It seems no one takes you seriously unless you generate ten paragraphs of psycho-babble and pseudo-intellectual jargon to describe your art. I feel like my art doesn’t warrant all of that analysis. Perhaps I’m not as ‘deep’ as some artists. Or maybe, I’m just more honest. I would like to think most of my work speaks for itself."
Despite her dislike of pithy analysis, Lucus’ art is often psychologically complex and at times, dichotomous. The juxtaposition of old and new materials, opposing shapes, textures, and ideas allow her works to express a subconscious depth of feeling that is not always readily apparent on the surface. Lucus’ desire to operate outside convention is a repeated idea in her work, and throughout it all ultimately, run messages of truth. In one way or another, Lucus’ art represents survival, hope and renewal. In other words: Life.
