Sara A. Lewis: Welcome to Points South, I’m your host, Sara A. Lewis of the Oxford American. In this episode, join us for conversation and music with OA editor Danielle A. Jackson, visual artist Clarence Heyward, and Jenn Wasner of Flock of Dimes, Wye Oak, and Bon Iver.

Danielle A. Jackson: Hi everybody. Thanks for coming out tonight and welcome to Points South Live. I am Danielle A. Jackson. I'm the Editor in Chief at the Oxford American magazine. We publish a quarterly magazine, print magazine, that features storytelling in many different forms and formats, um, literary arts, like reporting, memoir, fiction, short stories, flash fiction, poetry, and fine art, visual art. We also host live events and we're so grateful to Nell and to everyone at 21c for partnering with us to bring you the program for tonight. 21c’s, like the Oxford American, are committed to bringing exceptional art to their audiences and to forging community in the name of the arts. And we're so pleased to be in partnership. So thank y'all. So for tonight, I'm thrilled to introduce to you or to welcome two artists local to the Triangle whose work in the sound and the visual arts connect in many exciting and thrilling ways. First, Mr. Clarence Heyward, a painter and collagist, was born and raised in the Republic of Brooklyn. His work explores notions of the Black American experience, investigating cultural truths, challenging stereotypes, and questioning identity. Mr. Heyward has shown his work nationally and at venues including the 21c Museum of Durham, the Harvey B. Gant Center for Cultural Arts, the Black Gallery Raleigh, the Nasher Museum of Art at Duke University, and CAM, the Contemporary Art Museum of Raleigh, in addition to many others, as I learned earlier. Thank you very much for being here and please, everybody welcome Clarence Heyward. So to start, I wanna ask you, I'm gonna move from our script a little bit to ask you about the painting that is showing here right now with us. Um, “Red Light-Green Light.” Okay. So can you talk a little bit about “Red Light-Green Light”?

Clarence Heyward: I left my speech in the green room, but I'm gonna wing it. So “Red Light-Green Light” was born from a body of work that I'm actually currently still working on called In My Hood. It's a, um, body of work based on a statement made by Geraldo Rivera, of all people. Um, after the murder of Trayvon Martin, Geraldo Rivera got on his podcast and said, "Trayvon wasn't killed because he was Black. He was killed because he was wearing a hoodie." So I decided to make a body of work where I portrayed Black men and boys in hoodies to kind of, um, take away the stigma of us being threatening. But while I was building that body of work, I was playing around with different colors and textures that I wanted to use for backgrounds and, uh, stumbled upon some color theory ideas where certain colors you put together, creates like a stigmatism in the eye and you actually can't see it. So I put the green with the red to play along with that. And when you stare at it too long and cause like a vibration in your eyes, so actually you can't see it. Also, there's a colorblindness called red-green color blindness, is actually the number one colorblindness in the world. So that kind of plays into the idea of being unseen or invisible. So the number one influence on my practice is Barkley Hendricks. The idea behind “Red Light-Green Light” came from a painting he did called “Sir Charles alias Willie Harris.” And that's why I got the idea for the triptych. That's also what spawned the red and the stories are kind of similar. In that Willie Harris was, is a character from the, um, Raisin in the Sun who ran off with all the money at the end of the movie. In that same vein, I'm playing around with the idea of being, feeling, looking threatening, or looking like I might steal your money or whatever.

DAJ: Thank you. Yeah. I, um, I'm so glad that you went ahead and went into all the color theory behind your work because, and just preparing to talk to you I got super engrossed with your study of individual colors, like across, I would say the years of your practice. So there's the red and the green playing off of each other. Um, there's the paintings with the gold leaf. I'm thinking about PTSD and a series of other paintings. What happens when you decide on a color to use or to explore or to put together with another color? Is it usually a feeling that you're trying to convey, an experience for the viewer? Is it, um, purely for your pleasure? Like what do you decide? What makes, what is it that, that motivates you to decide?

CH: Okay. Um, that's a pretty deep answer, but a lot of the color combinations come from art history and looking at, studying people who came before me and I see what worked for them. So obviously it's still gonna work, but it's also playing around in the studio and seeing what feels right. What feels good. How do I feel when I look at it? And you know, I'm pretty much, once I start laying down that background color, I'm all in. I mean, you can always change it, but I live with it in the studio for a couple days. And if it works, I stay, I stay with it.

DAJ: You mentioned a couple times Barkley Hendricks. So maybe talk to us, I would love to hear a little bit about his influence on your work and just like who he is in art history and why he's important and is an artist that we should all be learning and looking at all the time.

CH: Okay. Barkley Hendricks is the reason that I am a painter today. Not the reason I'm an artist, but he's the reason I'm a painter. So previously, I mean, I worked in collage. I mean, in charcoal and conte sticks and stuff like that, but I went to an exhibition at the Nasher in 2008. It was, um, Barkley Hendricks's solo exhibition, The Birth of Cool. It was the first time that I saw life size paintings of Black people. And I saw myself and I actually never told anybody this, but one of the main reasons is so, my biological father died when I was a baby. So I never got to meet him. But when I walked into that exhibition, I saw a painting of a guy that looked just like my father, like based on pictures, and it's always stayed with me. So I've always studied his work after that.

DAJ: That's really, really beautiful. So that makes me wanna ask you a couple of things. Um.

CH: Okay.

DAJ: First is I also like the variations of black masculinity in Barkley Hendricks's work like it's a whole wide multiplicity, and I really love that about your work also. It just honors a whole lot of emotions and tones, even when you're painting yourself. It's like a wide variety of feelings that we just all need to realize and sit with, I think. So I'm kind of following that about the turn about your father, um, and like that kind of personal influence on your work. I noticed that in many of your paintings you do pull from, I would say, like the matter of your personal life. So there are many portrayals of your family, your daughters who are lovely, um, Ms. Desiree, who's lovely. And yeah. Can you maybe tell us about, you know, to me as a person who works in literary arts, I identify a person who's taking from their personal life to make art as like just a fellow, like memoirist. Um, you're, you're crafting art out of like the sweat and delight, but also the tragic things and also just like the everyday things of, of real life, right? So I think sometimes, so I'm gonna get to the question, but sometimes sometimes, um, in the literary world, personal writing isn't as valued as like craft intensive as things that like absent the person or the subject, the artist. Um, I guess I would just love to hear why you do turn the lens on your own life to make work. Is there one piece of work that you remember it really working where it clicked for you? Because, I mean, it takes just as much work right. And revising and redoing it to make something cool from like raw material. So yeah. Why do you do it? And was there one piece of art where it clicked and you decided, yeah, I wanna keep exploring this path.

CH: I made a lot of work of, you know, celebrities or pop culture, things that are already out here basically, right? You was just copying what you see, but I never felt a connection to it, right? It was almost like painting for painting's sake or just art for art's sake, which is cool. I mean, there's room for that, but I mean, you can get tired, you can get bored, it becomes repetitive. So I kind of turned the lens on myself. I mean, as I started to grow and I'm visiting museums and I'm actually paying attention to art history, right? It's different in school. You're forced to do it, but you know, once I got outta school, it's kinda like you do it because you actually wanna learn. And you start looking at the work that, to me, matters is usually somebody talking about like something historical that actually happened in real life, or they're documenting their story. And I always felt connected to it. And then there's the cost of like, models, right? I couldn't afford any of the models at the time. So I started painting myself. And then you get tired of painting yourself. So I'm like, you know, I painted my wife and then we had kids and it's like, okay, I'm gonna paint the kids. And then you start, I mean, life happens, you know, things happens and you start documenting it. Like, I always tell a story like, “Oh, we had pancakes today. How can I make this an interesting painting?” Right? And then you paint the kids eating pancakes and you show somebody. And they're like, “Oh my God. I remember growing up eating pancakes with my parents.” And you can see that people are connected with the work.

DAJ: So it's a way of connecting.

CH: Yeah.

DAJ: For you. And then also for, with us.

CH: Yeah. I mean, it's way beyond connecting. Right. It's, it's therapeutic too. Like if I'm stressed or I'm going through something, I just, I can paint myself looking angry. So I don't have to walk around angry. Like, it's just so many different things you can do that other people relate to when they see the work like, oh, I remember feeling that way and that I, you know, I know that look, so, yeah. And then you just start telling stories and keep going.

DAJ: Thank you. I would love to, would you like to hear some music, everybody? Um, I would love to bring in our second artist for the evening into the conversation and into the room. I am excited to present to you musician Jenn Wasner, who releases solo projects as Flock of Dimes. In April this year, Sub Pop released Flock of Dimes' Head of Roses: Phantom Limb, which is a collection of tracks written around the same time as last year's full length release, Head of Roses. Both works explore heartbreak, making the self, and, through visually stunning and vivid, sonic landscapes and exceptional lyricism, bridge many genres and transcend them all. Everybody, Jenn Wasner.

Jenn Wasner: Hi. Hello everyone. Thank you, Danielle. Good to see y'all. It's a pleasure being here. I get so few opportunities to play my songs for folks these days. So, um, it's a real treat. This one is about duality and appropriately is titled "Two."

[“Two”]

JW: Thank you! Aw, thanks guys.

DAJ: Jenn Wasner everybody. Thank you so much. That was so beautiful. I would love to start. And this is a question that's going to be for both of you, but I'd love to hear from you first, Jenn.

JW: Mm-hmm .

DAJ: Um, so you both live, I guess, in the Triangle, technically, close to here. Um, and you both came from other places, right? So you're kind of transplants, but something about this place made you wanna stay. So I'd love to hear about what is special about this area for you and what it does and has done for your art practices. And Jenn you're from Baltimore, Clarence I know you're from Brooklyn. I'd love to hear what is it, what are some things from those places, those respective places that still show up in your work? Like what do you bring from home with you that comes out in your sound or in your visual work?

JW: Well, um, I've been here since about 2015, I believe. And I'm someone who thinks in metaphor a lot. And so, um, when I try and define like my time in Baltimore and what that meant to me and my practice versus my time in North Carolina, it always sort of starts to fall into these two categories of like head and heart or like mind and body. And I'm, I'm from Baltimore. And like I was surrounded, there was an amazing music community in Baltimore. There was so much happening. I was, um, being exposed to all these things that were, that I'd never experienced and I was learning all these things and it was just sort of this, like, go, go, go kind of mentality and like way of being for me. Um, and when I moved here, a lot of my friends in Baltimore asked me why, and I didn't really know what to tell them, because the only reason that I really had at the time was I went there and it felt good? Like, it was very much like a felt intuitive sense that, that brought me here to begin with. Um, and a lot of that had to do with the people that I had met, but I think a lot of it had to do with this sort of like loosening? This, this like, um, uh, sinking. What I later have come to sort of think about is like sinking into my body and like outta my constantly hyperactive brain. Um, and that has proven to be something that has expanded, um, since I've lived here and something that I now consider to be pretty indispensable to the way I move through the world, but I'm not sure if, if I had stayed on this sort of like Baltimore hamster wheel, if I would've ever really discovered that way of being in the same way. So.

DAJ: Thank you. And what, what about Baltimore is still with you is still present even in this room as you're making music?

JW: Honestly, I think the community, the creative community, like the scene and the people making art and music there, um, has definitely shaped not only my aesthetic, but just sort of like the way I think about making things and, um, who I wanna make it for and how and why. I think that that, it was just a super formative experience. It just wasn't necessarily like a sustainable one for me. Um, I wouldn't be the same person or artist if I hadn't learned and seen and, and absorbed all of that, you know, incredible stuff. But I also, I don't think it was something I could do indefinitely.

DAJ: So do you feel like you appreciate it more a little bit at a distance?

JW: Yeah. And it's also like a matter of like a part for me, a part of like becoming an artist is like, but before you know what you wanna be, you have to understand what other people are or like what else is out there. And I think like there's a time when you're just sort of absorbing all these different identities and ideas and aesthetics and it, I think that that is like definitely a step one before you sort of start to centralize, like, like, who am I? Like, what do I have to say? Like, how do I want to like speak in the world and move through the world? And like, before I could do that, I had to sort of understand as much as I could about what other people were doing.

DAJ: That's like Clarence talking about making all the other work of all the other celebrities and all the other artists before returning home to making the art out of his own life and experiences. So, yeah, Clarence, I would love to hear from you also about what made you come here and what made you stay?

CH: Uh, what made me come here was college. I went to North Carolina Central.

DAJ: All right.

CH: And what made me stay was the cost of living but so, uh, coming from New York, I mean, I was a kid when I was there technically, um, it was great, right? Like, I didn't have any responsibilities. I could run free, I didn't have a curfew. I got exposed to like tons of different people. I went to school in the city, so I had friends from everywhere. Um, but funny enough, I didn't know any professional artists.

DAJ: You went to performing arts high school. Is that right?

CH: Yes. So I went to, um, LaGuardia High School in Manhattan.

DAJ: Which is the Fame high school, right?

CH: Yes. But I didn't know anyone who was a practicing artist after school. So I knew people who went on to be singers and dancers and rappers and that kind of stuff, but nobody who was a visual artist. Um, and it's like the art mecca of the world. And I didn't know anybody. So coming down here, I thought I would be an art teacher. And then I found out how much art teachers make. Yeah. So I became a truck driver for a while and then, you know, art started calling me again. So I came, came back to art and now I probably would be better suited to move to New York, but I tell everybody, you have to be rich just to be poor there. So this would still be home base.

DAJ: And same thing I'd love to hear from you. What about where you come from still makes it into your paintings and your other work and what's in the room with you here that is really like some Brooklyn aesthetic or feeling?

CH: Well, I don't have any Brooklyn here, but I have some Bronx here. So I brought my wife with me from New York. We met in high school actually, but, um, I think I brought my hustle, so I'm, I'm creating nonstop. Um, I'm looking for opportunities. Um, so I think I brought that back from New York, the grind, the constantly wanting more and never settling. And I'm always, I don't know, I'm just looking, searching. It's really the creative hustle.

DAJ: You both sort of mentioned the grind a little bit. Um, I would love to hear, um, you both talk about, I guess, collaborators. So this question is inspired by my, like, reading about Jenn's, um, career across multiple projects, bands, collaborations, um, and also your creative practice Clarence, where you're bringing other people in, but you're also thinking about the audience. So that's kind of a collaboration as well. So Jenn, I would love to hear you just talk about how you think about creative partnership and music making. And, um, when you first hear a song in your head, for example, or line, when do you know, it's time to bring somebody else in and how do you make that decision of who?

JW: That's a great question. Um, I'm a very relational person. I mean, anyone who knows me, I could tell you, um, I'm a people person. Um, but strangely, ironically, like a lot of my writing process starts, like I always try and start from this place of like essentially locking myself in a room and like beating my head against the wall, being like, this is gonna work. Like every time this is gonna work, definitely this is how art happens. And, um, I think that is a part of myself that I'm working to both make peace with and maybe quiet down a little bit because the reality is, when you are in relation with another person creatively, it's so much easier to be inspired. Like it's so much easier to react to something that someone is offering than it is to try and conjure something from nothing. So sometimes it's just as simple as having the like, guts to get in a room with someone and make yourself vulnerable. Um, but at that point, you know, the ideas are just sort of right in front of you. But I, I feel like it's so hard for me to hold onto that because I so often just jump straight into like, well, once you have something that's ready for other people to see, but really some you have to like get around that perfectionist mindset and bring people in beforehand because that's, you know, where the ideas start to generate.

DAJ: So does this start with you kind of saying, “I'd love to hear what you think.” I mean, is that kind of a—

JW: Just, I am desperate. Like, I, I have been sitting in this room by myself. I am tired of my thoughts. Like I'm tired of this hearing the same sounds that only I make over and over again and like, let's, oh, right. Like I'm supposed to be like in relationship, I'm supposed to be like in conversation. And really I'm just like trying to have the same conversation with myself over and over again and being surprised that that doesn't take me somewhere yet again,

DAJ: Thank you. How about you Clarence? How do you know when it's time to let somebody see the work, um, collaborate when it's time maybe to paint somebody else, like you said earlier, when is the time to open up a little bit?

CH: Um, well painting somebody else. It really depends on the project. Right? So my, my work is narrative. So depending on what story I'm trying to tell, um, that kind of dictates what characters I'm gonna need in the work. Um, as far as letting people see the work, I have studio visits weekly. So people always see the work and I might not collaborate like physically, but it's more like conversational. I bring people in and talk about the work.

DAJ: Do you make changes based on those conversations? Like if somebody comes for a studio visit and notices something and you like or don't like?

CH: 95% of the time? No. But I like to see what people are thinking when they look at my work. Right. So I had a studio visit last week and one of the comments was there was something in my work that could be a barrier. I'm still gonna keep the painting same way it is. But I still like to get another perspective on what it is. It's just a barrier for that person. So they won't be collecting the work, but.

DAJ: Someone else.

CH: Yeah.

DAJ: I mean, that makes me think about how everything isn't really for everybody. Like you have different audiences, probably. So, yeah. I would love to hear both of you talk about who you're making work for. So who are you singing to? Who are you writing to? Who are you painting for?

JW: I love this question. Thank you for asking this question, cuz this is actually like a huge turning point in my life and career where I was asking myself this question in a way that I think has been really pivotal. But when I was, so in 2011, 2012, my band Wye Oak put out a record and it sort of like had its little zeitgeist moment. Um, I was playing like 200 shows a year with my band mate, Andy Stack. And like, we were just grinding. Um, and I was, you know, I had accomplished the thing that I had set out to do in many ways. And I was the most miserable I had ever been. And the crowds got bigger, but the energy was off for some reason. And it occurred to me in that moment. I was like, okay. Um, maybe it's not just a matter of bigger, better and more, but maybe it's a matter of like, who do you wanna connect with? And like I noticed that like a lot of bands or projects as they got bigger, they kind of played by some rules about, “Okay, well we're gonna curate our sets so that we're always playing our most popular song and it's always gonna be right at the end and it's always gonna be this way and this is what people expect.” And um, you know, I think that that is essentially being a good entertainer, right. It's just like a different thing from being an artist. it's a real skill, but it's a separate skill. And I think at that moment I was like, oh, maybe the thing that I wanna be is actually something else. And maybe I need to be more intentional about who I am making things for. And like, as you make work for a larger audience, um, just, it's just like a sheer numbers game. It's like, I wanted to make work for people who think about music the way I do and relate to it in the way that I do. I would obviously hope as many people could enjoy it as possible. I don't want it to be exclusionary or alienating. Um, but I don't wanna go into the field being like, I wanna just make the lowest hanging fruit I can make for whoever like I wanna put work in. And my hope is that people who think about music like critically and feel it very deeply, like I do, will notice even if I'm not necessarily the best at always being like an entertainer.

DAJ: And do you think about different folks per like for different projects, like is your most recent album like for a specific group of these people who are like minded, whereas like other like side projects, like the cover. Um, the Beverly and Glen Copeland cover is that for a different audience? Like, are you thinking about different groups of folks?

JW: I try pretty hard to not, to abide by this rule because I think you can get so lost in trying to think about what people want from you, that it can kind of sink the ship before it even has a chance. So, um, I try and abide by the rule of, if I connect with this, somebody else will too. It's like the personal litmus test and it, it requires you to be really honest with yourself, I think about like what's actually working for you and what isn't. Obviously making a record like Head of Roses is like, well, I am going through an experience of heartbreak and loneliness. So in a lot of ways, this record, I hope will connect with people who have experienced or, or who are experiencing the same thing.

DAJ: Like everybody, basically.

JW: Which is everybody. Yeah. Everyone, everywhere, all the time. Right. Um, but I also, one of the reasons I like songs as a medium is because part of the deal is that you leave space. Like you leave space for other people to draw themselves into the picture. Um, and I do that with the things that I like. I have no idea what some of my favorite songwriters were thinking about when they wrote their lyrics. The ambiguity of it allows me to like exist inside of it personally,

DAJ: To bring their own imagination.

JW: Yeah.

DAJ: Into the experience. How about you, Clarence? Who are you making work for? Who's your ideal viewer?

CH: I got this answer

JW: Yes, yes.

CH: Actually somebody asked me this last week and the answer was kind of cheesy, but it's the truth, right. Um, it's actually a little problematic, but, um, the answer is I'm making the work for my grandchildren and it's problematic because I'm kind of forcing kids on my kids, but. But this is my world, right? So I'm kind, I'm making it, the work, for my grandchildren because one, it keeps me going, right? That's a long time from now, right? And two, it gives me something to look forward to in that I wanna be able to go to the museum, take my grandchildren to museums and say like, “This is us.” Right. My grandfather was a fisherman. I didn't go fishing until last year. Right. So I don't know what it was like to—

DAJ: He was a fisherman in Brooklyn?

CH: No, he was in South Carolina.

DAJ: Ah .

CH: But you know, I don't know anything about his story or anything about that kind of history. Whereas I'm painting stories that are related to my life. So when I take my grandchildren, I can explain like, this is what me and your grandmother were doing, or this is how it was in this time. I'm documenting history too. So I would love to just walk through a museum with my grandchildren or like my retrospective, when it comes, knock on wood,

DAJ: It's coming.

CH: Right. And, um.

DAJ: It's coming. I, I love that both of you are talking about, I guess, honesty, transparency, and I think that's what we're connecting to aside from like, your work is, looks beautiful. Your voice sounds beautiful. We're also connecting to something honest that's coming from your heart. So, um, love to hear some more music, Jenn.

JW: I'd love to play it for you. Thank you.

DAJ: Thank you.

JW: Um, this next song is about, um, it's called “Lightning” and it's, uh, I can remember very vividly, like a lot of the time when I write songs, I go into like a fugue state and I just can't like remember anything. But this one I remember very vividly. It was about this time actually of year, this, uh, sort of late summer hazy time of North Carolina summer. And, um, the sky was green in the way that it can threaten to be. Um, there was just like a creepy storm brewing. And, um, I was sitting, looking out my window in my living room and I put this song together kind of outta nowhere. And I think of this time of year every time I play it.

[“Lightning”]

JW: Thank you. Thank you guys.

DAJ: Thank you, Jenn and Alan, and thank you to Clarence. Thank you to everybody gathered here tonight. Thank you for joining us. Please, another round of applause for Clarence, Jenn, and Alan. And so I want to give a special thank you to 21c for hosting this event and for creating a space for conversations like these to happen. This is like a article in the magazine come to life. And I just really appreciate from the bottom of my heart. As a nonprofit, we are only able to present freely to the public thanks to the generosity of folks like 21c and folks like you. I do hope you'll consider if you're able making a donation to the OA. Um, think about what a ticket for a program like this in an intimate space like this could cost. And if you can, head to Oxfordamerican.org\donate to give, we would also love for you to subscribe to the magazine four times a year, an art exhibition in your mailbox. What could be better? Thank y'all have a good night. Be safe

SAL: This event was produced with support from the National Endowment for the Arts and 21c Durham Museum and Hotel. The episode was produced by me, Christian Brown, and Christian Leus. Post production by Spacebomb. Special thanks to Clarence Heyward, Jenn Wasner, and Danielle Jackson.