Antiquity In the Faux: The Sculptures of Kris Kuksi
In Kris Kuksi’s “Leda and the Swan,” the mythical woman sits nude and slightly less voluptuous than Rubens and Cézanne’s versions of her. In this mixed-media assemblage, the mother of Helen of Troy is surrounded by cities that literally rise above her and more that are flipped upside down. Train tracks crumble. Armies go to battle. Severed heads hang from the trees that loom over the scenes. On Leda’s leg is the swan that is really Zeus in disguise. From a distance, this hulking piece on a gallery wall is a simple retelling of an ancient tale. Up close, the chaos of civilizations unfold, an unfathomable amount of anachronistic stories told with tiny toys, figures, and other odds and ends.
Antiquity in the Faux, Kuksi’s solo show at Mark Moore Gallery in Culver City, California, features nine new works. Some are small. Some are large. All are densely packed with found items. Gods, warriors, courtesans, and the occasional animal are pieced together to form scenes that are more cohesive than one might think. Zoom in and actions unfold. Religious scenes peek out of corners surrounded by carnage. Weapons are propped in the arms of female figures dressed in very little clothing, if any at all. Twentieth century warfare, Napoleonic France and ancient Greece and Rome intertwine in each symphonic mélange.
“I think I was born to be a composer,” says Kuksi by phone from Lawrence, Kansas, “maybe, secondarily, an artist.” Kuksi is certainly an artist, but his great talent is taking careful consideration of every small part—some so tiny that they could easily fall into a crack—as he constructs much larger arrangements.
Back in 2009, Kuksi was featured in Hi-Fructose. In the five years that have passed, the artist says that his work has changed. “I think it’s become less compacted and more graceful,” he says. “I think that there is always this hard-edged, stoic, kind of baroque feel to them. I think there’s a bit of rococo and more lighter or more satirical sense always developing.” Seeing Kuksi’s work in person is a feast for the eyes. Photos can’t convey the intricacy of the work. The artist himself notes that, in photos, the assemblages appear to be of a similar size. That “Leda and the Swan” is 121″ x 96″ x 37″ where “Faux-Patriot Revolution” is 16″ x 12″ x 21.5″ is lost on anyone who is looking at a series of images on the web. But, there’s more to this than size. From a distance of five feet, only the simplest shapes and textures are apparent. With every step closer, a new element becomes visible. Some pieces, like the upside-down cities that mark Leda and the Swan, are semi-hidden. It takes a slight turn of the head to notice. Crouch and even more is revealed under the base.
It can be overwhelming to look at the studio and see all these little parts. A lot of people come to the studio and they can’t handle it. It’s too much.”
“I’m really particular about the detail and the quality of these objects,” he says. The level of detail in many of the parts is astounding, from the architectural elements on the small houses and buildings to the creases in clothing and the emotional expressions on the faces.
For Kuksi, the hunt is part of the story. He hits up eBay often enough to know some of the sellers. When he’s on the road, Kuksi will pop into hobby shops and antique stores. His studio is across from an antique store, which is convenient, but he still spends most of his time online. “It cantake a long time away from the studio just to get the right part,” says Kuksi, “but it’s all part of the process.”
Ultimately, the story of the parts are imbued in the story of the whole. “These objects come from all different parts of the world and wind up together as part of this, small, compact work of art,” he says. Placed together, the small items point to a large world wrapped up in some big issues. Kuksi talks about societies embroiled in “a lot of clutter and confusion and emotion.” He adds, “We somehow keep it all together from falling into chaos.” Making sense of the mess is part of what Kuksi does. “No matter how much we get or how comfortable our lives are, there’s just this old part of our brain that thinks we need more clutter,” he says. In time, the clutter is discarded and, on occasion, ends up in this artist’s hands and the boxes of leftovers are reconfigured into well-organized pieces of art.
From a distance of five feet, only the simplest shapes and textures are apparent. With every step closer, a new element becomes visible.
“It can be overwhelming to look at the studio and see all these little parts,” says Kuksi. “A lot of people come to the studio and they can’t handle it. It’s too much.” Just trying to envision the collection of toy soldiers and model train tracks in Kuksi’s studio can boggle the mind.
Early in 2014, Kuksi moved into a church that dates back to 1897. It’s a large, with tall, arched windows that let in lots of light. He did some remodeling after moving in, adding a wood shop and bringing in lights to keep the space bright at night. “I think it really does influence the work,” he says of the new space. He started work on all but one of the Antiquity in the Faux pieces here.
Inside the studio, Kuksi works with a small team. One person builds figures under his direction. Another person handles casting and molds. Someone else keeps the studio in shape and helps out with pre-assembly work. Kuksi describes his role as a “supervisor or foreman.”
“You have to stay on top of what everyone is doing,” he says. “You can’t have someone sitting there with nothing to do.” It’s a time-consuming process, even with multiple assistants. They build one scene after the next, gradually adding more to each piece. Some will balloon in size. Mastering the sense of scale is crucial. “If I want to make something small, I want it to look just as great as the bigger pieces,” says Kuksi, “and I want the bigger pieces to have just as much excitement as the smaller ones.”*
This article originally appeared in Hi-Fructose issue 34, which is sold out. Get our latest issue in print when you subscribe here.
