THINKING OUT OF THE BOX
The Hague, January 2023
MACHTELD RULLENS, one of the most exciting contemporary artists of this new generation, takes a humble everyday object like the cardboard box, and elevates its mundane status into an abstract, mood-inspired sculptural arrangement. Covering the material in paint, resin and color, her compositions shape the familiar into the unfamiliar, as new forms fuse elements of play and architecture, injecting a sense of wonderment and discovery. Netherlands-based Rullens studied at the Royal Academy of Art in The Hague and her work has been shown in several solo and group exhibitions at key galleries, museums and art fairs across the world. She also received the Royal Award for Modern Painting in 2019 and released her debut book Full of Emptiness in 2021, in which she captured her life and work in progress on an analogue camera.
Here she tells us about her process, inspirations, and how she hopes to push the boundaries in her practice, continuing to use the box as a cultural statement about the nature of art itself.
So, was art always a calling for you?
As a child I couldn’t express myself through language. I could speak, but when things got excited, I either turned inwards or got angry with myself. Art was a way of expressing myself. I loved my local art museum, a beautiful Berlage building with perfect light, it left a lasting impression on me.
You’ve explored the creative potential of the cardboard box in unexpected ways, and really elevated its humble status from a commonplace material that we discard daily. Why this material rather than traditional mediums like paper or canvas to paint on?
Painting on cardboard really happened by accident when I ordered some linen canvases, which arrived in cardboard boxes. When I was in Paris, I had learned to work with resin, so I decided to experiment on those cardboard boxes, by rubbing different paints, pigments, and resin on them, partly as I was too afraid to ruin the pristine linen canvases. Up to that point I had been trying to find my own voice creatively but found that typical art materials were not really helping. Since then, my work has slowly evolved, and I’ve gained more confidence, as well as visibility. Aside from working on cardboard, I also draw now too, but it’s a practice I’ve not yet presented.
You mention trying to find your own voice, and you’ve said in the past that your work comes from a deep state of insecurity, as well as a love for discarded materials. Boxes are (like) life. Can you explain what you mean by that?
All honest things are created from a state of insecurity, and letting something come from that insecure place, that you yourself might not even understand, shows you have faith. Our society is so focused on explaining and categorizing everything, but life doesn’t work that way. The art objects I make give me a tiny bit of control over how my world looks.
Is the immediate access of cardboard and its freedom from cultural weight what draws you to the material too? And would you agree your artworks are not just an expression of the artists’ points of view but also a cultural statement about the nature of art itself?
It’s very expensive to make cardboard nowadays, so the fact that people still see it as trash surprises me, but that’s to my advantage, as I can use the most beautiful material for free. That’s liberating, as I’m making art with minimal means and maximum effect. My work does indeed come from thinking and using the box as a cultural statement about the nature of art itself.
Do you also think that working with cardboard reminds you of a time when we believed (as youngsters), that we could make anything out of a few simple materials and some imagination?
Yes, children are the best artists. Their imagination is unlimited, often with a sense of urgency - I aim to be the same. Making an ‘oeuvre’ and keeping that wonder alive, demands hours of practice, dedication, and a bit of luck. I also find humor in the simplicity of hanging a box on the wall!
Well, humor is an important element of play, and cardboard boxes – big enough to climb inside – are really spaces in which to reclaim that childhood sense of wonder. Has that element of play ever inspired your exploration in the material?
The unknown is the best part of playing and discovering, and when I look at contemporary art, and art history, I’m inspired by the many beautiful crafts and ideas. When I was at a residency called Thread at the Josef & Anni Albers Foundation in Senegal, I read Josef’s book about research, in which he says, “Research will give you something you were looking for, while search takes you into the unknown.”
So, in your own search, are you exploring abstract ideas rather than realism? Your work is both visual and conceptual, so how does an idea form?
The visual and the concept are both equal, and that balance between a recognizable object and the freedom that abstraction brings is important. It’s interesting how art objects acquire meaning through their context, and it took me many years to find a (simple) way of working. There are periods in which I go all out, adding as much paint, cardboard, and resin as I can, and testing works in bronze or other materials. Then I make visually calmer work as a counterbalance. The element of time built into the work process, such as waiting for the layers to dry, makes the whole practice more exciting, and the concept makes the object stronger, but nothing is conveyed without a visual impact. I don’t want to push meaning onto a piece of work or say too much about what it symbolizes, as I want to be as surprised when seeing it, like those viewing it for the first time.
Do you need to be aware of what stage of the life cycle the cardboard boxes you use are at, for example, if it’s been recycled and how many times it’s been broken down and reconstructed. Can that affect the texture(s) you work on/ with and the final effect?
I have used new cardboard before, but my best works up to now have been made from cardboard that had a life of its own before it reached me. Sometimes if there’s a little damage like a hole, that can be frustrating, but I’ve started to cut and squash the boxes myself; making the work look like metal plates with bolts connecting pieces or holding them in place. I made a piece that looks as if there is a painting inside the flattened box, which I coated in a beige color with its corners folded inwards. I know exactly how and where I get each cardboard box from, but in the end, I don’t think it’s of importance to me, or the viewer.
What is your process from beginning to end, and when you’re arranging the boxes too? Do you set out to create a sculptural abstract shape or object which would imply an action or interaction of some sort, to grab the viewer, or is it open to interpretation?
I start with building a basic structure; a pile of blocks or shapes which can be used in their existing blank form or covered with acrylics. I have an idea of what I want and start (re)arranging, almost as if I were an architect walking around scale models, except the work should always be able to function as it is in a room once I leave, without me being in control of its future context. For my series, Shelters, I used pieces of older works which look like tree houses or bird nests, giving the idea that something is hidden inside them, which the viewer will feel when they look at them. In another series I nicknamed Turtles, I shaped larger boxes by cutting and sitting on them, and they became shields. For both series, there were dierent actions and thoughts in my process, but in the end, the work is open to one's own interpretation and imagination.
You work with color a lot; how does it inform and transform the final piece?
When I use color, it immediately reflects my basic mood. Light bounces off color or is absorbed by it. Shapes are accentuated by it or fall into the background because of it. The resin also hardens and intensifies the color. You can be reflected within the panels, and the work also changes when the light hits it during different hours of the day.
So, once a piece is completed, what do you learn or take away with you?
With every piece I learn to look again, and it makes me so happy when things work out. Sometimes it can be a struggle, and at some point, the material almost communicates with you to stop what you’re doing; it’s a skill to be open to that moment. When I feel awkward or unhappy about a work I’ve made, it’s often one of the better ones.
How is your work evolving? Will you move into other materials or mediums to create boxes rather than cardboard, to convey the same sensibility or attitude in your work?
I want to push the boundaries between wall objects, sculpture, and painting, and by using cardboard and resin, it makes my work instantly recognizable. My latest series is in part inspired by American artist Elizabeth Murray’s book, Paintings and Drawings from 1987, and her way of working. So, for now, I’m not at all finished with the box.
Did Robert Rauschenberg’s Cardboard series from the 1970s inspire you at all? [Rauschenberg made wall reliefs using found cardboard boxes, and cut, stapled, or bent them, retaining their used history with stains and rips, and colors or labelling.]
A friend told me about this series of work by Rauschenberg after I had already made my first cardboard box paintings. I looked at how he titled those works, and how he also used the writings and logos printed on the original cardboard. I think there is an honesty and beauty in that.
What other artists or sculptors have also inspired your own practice?
I love how Imi Knoebel and Frank Stella elevated the flat canvas into space, shaping it as an object, leaving the classical idea of a canvas behind. I also admire Eva Hesse’s work, which I saw at the Ludwig Museum in Cologne, it’s amazing and impressive with its European heritage and American newness, a mix of playfulness and grace. All these artists have an attitude I admire and refer to, but for me, my work is solely my idea and will always reflect current times.
So, what are you working on now, and what can we expect from you in the future?
Well, I just came back from a residency at the Vincent van GoghHuis [a unique art center located in the spot where the artist was born and raised] and gallery in Zundert in the Netherlands. The month I spent there gave me space to work, and the pieces will be on view during the art fairs Art Brussels [with Sorry We’re Closed] and Expo Chicago [with Overduin & Co.]. I’m also preparing for my first solo shows in the USA with Overduin & Co. [in Los Angeles] and Lucas Page [in New York], and for the first time, a museum show in the Netherlands at Kunsthal Rotterdam. My book, Full of Emptiness [published by Zolo Press, which included my analogue shots of work and life in progress, was a real success, so I’m hoping we can continue that collaboration in the form of a new book next year!
Interview by Kate Lawson
Photography by Walter Pierre
Fashion by Leendert Sonnevelt
Photographer’s assistant Sam Morsink