Art
No Order Magazine talks with the artist.
Multidisciplinary artist Rhys John Kaye’s work focuses on the fragile notion of memory and the importance we collectively place on it as an objective measure of truth. Inspired and informed by a transient and somewhat tumultuous life, Kaye’s works span painting, sculpture, ceramics and the written word. His output presents fragmented experiences, simultaneously personal and universal, free from the imposition of narrative. He works intuitively, shaping organic and expressive forms that reflect the dynamic energy with which they were created.
How did your career begin?
My career began gradually. I was painting graffiti as a kid and that slowly transitioned into getting work and doing art for people. I studied design for a while, thinking I would pursue a graphic design career but I didn’t enjoy it as much as I thought I would. So, I went back to painting as a hobby and then that progressed into exhibiting. I fell in love with that and have been doing it ever since.
Do you have a set process when it comes to making work and is there a part of that process that people may find surprising?
My set process - I try to treat it like a regular job where I show up to the studio most days, even if I don't feel like it. I find that the consistency of that leads to me doing work. I do generally feel inspired to paint, but there's obviously times when it's hard to make yourself excited about it. Painting is on my mind all the time. Travelling and doing things outside of the studio usually feeds back into my process. I notice things in the world or experiences with people, relationships and everything going on outside, and I try to bring them back into the studio with me. This then feeds into the work I make - it's like an extension of me.
Image courtesy of the artist.
Is there a memorable moment in your journey as a creative that you didn’t know would impact your career?
There's been a lot of experiences that have altered my creativity. They aren't that obvious at the time, but then on reflection, you realise they do. For instance, when I lived on the Gold Coast, the work I was making was a lot bigger because I had bigger spaces and people had bigger homes. When I moved to Korea, everybody lived in tiny apartments and I had to scale my work back because I didn't have any room to do it. People couldn't keep the paintings that I was doing because they just didn't have space - there were little things like that. One of the biggest transitions would have been from doing graffiti to fine art. I noticed a lot of the walls and other property just being demolished. They buffed all the train lines. Everything started just disappearing and it would be left in print. I noticed from a young age that all the work that I was surrounded with, that my friends, I did, or older people did, was just disappearing and it didn't exist anymore. That probably, without realising it, sparked my interest in art because the physical painting was existing longer. Graffiti would only exist in a magazine, photo, or video footage, but the actual painting was no longer around. Whereas a canvas, the thing that I painted, could live on for a lot longer and have a life of its own.
Read the full interview in Issue 03
Published: 16th September 2023