STEPHEN FRAILEY:  The new photographs represent a very notable shift in mood, from work that is rational and visually coherent, to that cathartic and somewhat menacing, as if emerging from some dank recess of the ID.  Could you please address this, in general terms?


PATRICIA VOULGARIS:  These newer photographs certainly come from a darker place. This “darkness” is a universal feeling that exists in all us and manifests itself in different forms. These works are somewhat of a departure from my previous works but not so far removed. I enjoy living in the shadows and having control over what I reveal from afar. I use photography as a way to create this communal experience that has emerged from the shadows, daring you to embrace the uglier parts. I continue to investigate the ways in which I can complicate the body in the space, collaborate with others and create narratives for the viewer to experience with me. 


SF:  Your suggestion of a ‘dare’ is a compelling (and complicated) transaction for the viewer.  But at the least, you are interested in collaboration?


PV:  I am interested in collaboration and how others perceive me through the lens of the camera. Perception is an important aspect of my work when attempting to view myself through others, (particularly with men). Their perception along with my own influences the way I create, interpret and frame my images. I have been experimenting with layers of perception and how all of these different "ways of seeing" complicate the subject (me) in the frame. What is a seemingly simple portrait of myself, becomes something much more complex and fabricated. 


SF:  Does this refer to the work in which you have asked others to photograph you, or all of the work now?


PV:  Specifically with all of the work that I have been making now. I think that for awhile, I have been projecting a certain version of myself into the world. Something that is graphically digestible, clean, and formally malleable. I wanted to expand on the ways in which these different viewpoints could be layered in the frame without an obvious deciding factor, that being myself. These viewpoints peak through the darkness and form a cloudiness that hangs over myself in many of these images. At first, it may not be obvious but that feeling is certainly there. These photographs continuously ask the same old question that I’ve debated all my life, who is she? 


SF:  Thus, returning to the beginning of the conversation, the ‘she’ seems primal and the work at Mary Mary projects has drowning, fires, broken eggs, a grave.  And the body as the stage.


PV:  Correct, everything comes full circle! 


SF:  Are there photographers whose work have been particularly inspiring?  Liberating?  I’m reminded, by the way, of the late paintings of Philip Guston when I look at your work.


PV:   Lately, I have been inspired by the works of Roger Ballen, Les Krims, and Gillian Wearing. I think that all of these artists have a particular way of looking at the world in a complex manner. I like thinking about these complexities and how they manifest themselves in different ways. It’s interesting that you mention Philip Guston. There is something dark, chaotic, relatable and strangely inviting when I look at his paintings. He has a piece at the Metropolitan Museum in New York entitled Stationary Figure, 1973  that I always visit and sit with. The painting features a cartoon like figure laying down with bleeding marks upon its body that spread onto the floor. The figure takes a drag from a lit cigarette and is portrayed as anxious and mutilated, passing the time by bleeding out from its wounds. This painting resonates with me strongly. 


SF:  I quite like the idea of ‘visit and sitting with’ a painting; I don’t think we do that with photographs enough. Some of the qualities that you have described with the Guston, are applicable to your work, I think.  The isolation and chaos; mutilation.  But photographs have an urgency that paintings often do not….


PV:  I agree, I don’t think that we sit with photographs enough. We look at so many photographs daily and rarely do those images resonate with me. When I think about the images that I am attracted they usually have a certain strangeness, danger and mystery behind them. I can definitely relate to the isolation, chaos, and mutilation. There’s something thrilling about combining all of those words and photographing them.


SF:  Your mention of Roger Ballen reminds me of one of the characteristics of your work that I admire much and that is its lack of formula.  The photographs feel deeply improvisational, without any structural obligations to impede its thought process.   I think this takes a certain courage, and a belief in the ability of the work to find its place.


PV:  Thank you for your kind words. I love photographs that lack a formula as well. We easily overthink and question every detail. Over time, my insecurities have evolved into two simple words, "fuck it". I desperately crave photographs that go beyond the surface. I want to see the dirt underneath the models fingernails, the corners of the room and the things that keep you up at night. In Roger Ballen's photographs we see all of those things, and at times they are hard to look at. They bring us right back to reality, a swift kick in the face. 


SF: Could you describe the thought process from which your pictures originate?  Where the ideas and the stories come from, how they become processed into images?  Are many spontaneous?


PV:  It’s difficult to pin point an original source. Lately, my ideas have been a bit spontaneous. I have been gathering materials and looking for locations and creating my ideas around those specific factors. Inspiration comes and goes, like everything in life. I am also obsessed with old films and gathering movie clips off of youtube. I have started a collection of these clips and they somehow work together. I have been thinking a lot about performing for the camera and the ways in which the world views me as a woman.


SF:  So, in general material and location serve as inspiration?  Thing and place?


PV:  Exactly. If I can’t find the materials or locations that I am looking for I create a world instead. Sometimes this world feels too constructed and I go back and forth between reality and fantasy. I suppose everyone does as well. 


SF:  I’m reminded of the conventions of horror films and, in particular, the themes that implicate the body, the female body most often and its vulnerability and violation.  And also early David Croenberg films, especially Dead Ringer with the twin gynecologists (exquisitely played by Jeremy Irons).


PV:  It’s interesting that you mention horror as an element in my work. It’s something that I have been thinking about. This “spooky" component has been thrown around a bit and I think there is a connection. I don’t particularly like horror movies but I enjoy their attempt in tricking us into believing their truth and of course how can we forget the violence. Two things that I am obsessed with as you know. haha. I think that maybe I am currently interpreting my traumas as horror. Whereas before I was directly projecting them with my body. Im not sure if this makes sense, I am still thinking it through.