ARTIST INTERVIEW: Michalis Karaiskos
Michalis Karaiskos
Please introduce yourself. How have you turned your passion for art into a career? What initially sparked your interest in becoming an artist?
My name is Michalis Karaiskos, and I'm of half-Cypriot and half-Greek descent. Initially. I studied mechanical engineering in Cyprus due to my keen interest in science and strong academic performance in high school. However, I came to realise that my decision was somewhat influenced by my family's perception of a secure income and the conventional notion of a fulfilling life. While I highly appreciate the conceptual beauty of mathematics, I was also inspired by a book I read about the ancient Greek mathematician Pythagoras. Pythagoras was a philosopher and mathematician who delved into the relationship and analogies between mathematics and music. He highlighted how harmonic sound structures are composed of various mathematical ratios, which in turn relate to geometric structures and, consequently, the visual realm. At that moment, I began to understand the depth of my ambitions. I remember concluding that art is the material incarnation of the pure intellect of the realm of mathematics, its flesh and bones!
After moving to Greece to attend the Athens School of Fine Arts, a five-year program, gaining admission proved challenging. The prestigious state institution offers free education, making it highly competitive. Through hard work and dedication, I finally secured a spot after a year of preparatory studies at a drawing school. It was a dream that came true! During my time there, I didn't just learn about painting techniques and traditional sculpture. I also delved into the diverse approaches to becoming an artist. It wasn't entirely clear what direction to take. As students, are we meant to keep experimenting ad infinitum with different mediums and concepts, with more "performative" work, or stick to something and develop it so that with time, it will grow? And if some of us find ourselves inclined to painting, does this mean we aim at something obsolete since there are many more sophisticated representation methods today? I was puzzled. Still, I am a bit, but not in the same manner; the urgent questions are distributed differently now. I graduated from school in 2010, doing large-scale abstract paintings then, and despite the distinction, I felt more confused than ever.
I hadn't considered pursuing a master's degree right away. Instead, I focused on finding a way to support myself financially. Many of my fellow alums opted to teach art classes in elementary or high schools to make a decent monthly income. However, this didn't appeal to me because it would restrict my ability to head straight to my studio in the morning. I needed a job that allowed me enough time to develop my practice and avoid feeling overwhelmed by school classrooms.
At last, I figured out something else. I decided to take intensive courses in Byzantine icon painting. In less than four months, I had learned all the basics and was able to start accepting commissions to create icons for churches and private individuals. Icon painting not only provided me with income but also became a second school of painting, allowing me to explore different techniques and experiment with various styles of expression. I viewed the commissions as an opportunity to satisfy my curiosity and delve into medieval, to Renaissance art while ensuring that I delivered satisfactory and respectable results to the clients.
It took me around six years with icon painting to get to the point of securing different ways to earn my life without having to sacrifice crazy hours off the studio every day. It was at that time that I had the opportunity to return to my own painting practice and develop it more. The school of religious painting had proved "miraculous." It gave me incredible skills that significantly changed my approach to painting since my days as a fresh graduate. From that time, I spent countless hours practising and exploring everything that I found challenging and exciting, all without tethering myself to the art market. I sought an ideal and free-spirit development with no strings attached.
Untitled (Partner)
How do you explore ideas of male identity in your work? Do any of these works reflect yourself?
In my work, I initially tried to address issues of masculinity when, in 2020 and after, I worked with a former model of the Athens School of Fine Arts who sat for me for several paintings. In my work, Old Stud, my model, George, is depicted wearing boxing gloves to hint at his warrior stance throughout his life. Though the work seems to celebrate masculinity, there's also a kind of vanity in the protagonist's posture and a sense of dispersed irony.
However, when I revisited masculinity during the last two years after relocating to London, I delved into the concept of masculinity, initially exploring its connection to gendered subjectivity but eventually focusing on the theme of mortality. This journey led me to critically examine and deconstruct traditional masculinity, culminating in my work titled 'The End of (Patriarchal) Masculinity', evoking connections with Andrea Mantegna's Renaissance painting depicting the foreshortened dead Christ. Throughout this series, I used self-portraits as source material, although this was not always explicitly mentioned in the titles. My latest piece continued to explore the theme of death yet moved away from the patriarchal context. I portrayed myself as a corpse lying on a bench in a dim, confining space covered by a white sheet. Looking ahead, I plan to redo this work, this time utilising the human body's physical dimensions, inviting a more convincing identification with the viewer and amplifying the experience.
Portrait of the artist imagining his own death
What is the relationship between psychology and art?
I believe that psychology is closely intertwined with art. Although it can be argued that music is the most celebrated genre of art, related to the generation and variation of feelings, and much like the ancient Greek drama, could elicit pity and fear in its finest moments, all other art genres are also deeply rooted in emotion. Psychology explores human cognition, emotion, and social practices, seeking to understand their underlying principles and functions. In contrast, art emerges from the symbolic gaps in established knowledge, challenging and questioning what remains unexplored. Works of art offer aesthetic experiences that touch upon sensation, memory and time. Memory holds immense significance in the human experience. Without memories or recollections, it would be impossible to cherish past experiences, maintain connections with others, and perhaps find meaning in life. Memory serves as the reservoir of lived experiences, personal or collective histories, traumas, traditions, language, and more. Interestingly, these same elements often form the substance art engages with. There are numerous instances of the intersection between art and psychology, perhaps the most significant being the power of images and their symbolic meaning.
Tell me about your painting series for the Goldsmiths MFA Degree Show 2024. What is the common narrative through this body of work? Which piece is your favourite, and why?
The degree show series of paintings stemmed from an intensive exploration of the subject matter, where I tried to push towards unexplored possibilities. Specifically, the two paintings titled "The Archbishop" and "Portrait of the Artist Imagining His Own Death" appear to form a pair due to their obvious aesthetic similarities. These paintings mark my efforts to move beyond the realm of the photographic painting world - the type of painting of everyday life scenes based on photography. While I still used a photographic image as reference material to develop the mentioned pair of paintings, I worked differently this time concerning the production of the scene to fabricate the final reference image. I aimed to stage something that narrates a somewhat unsettled and eerie fantasy.
The Archbishop
In 'The Archbishop' painting, my intention was to captivate the viewer with the presence of a figure that sparks questions about its origin and existence. Who is this animal-headed figure? Why is this figure adorned in a priestly white tunic, and what is the nature of the space he occupies? What is its purpose or intent? Are there any others present, obscured by the picture frame? The work ‘portrait of the artist imagining his own death' deals with a rather pretty macabre fantasy of the self as a corpse. We don't usually tend to imagine ourselves in a mortuary or on a deathbed. Instead, most people might sometimes contemplate how they would like their funeral ceremony to be, but this is very different.
Without even noticing it, when I started working on this series of works, I discovered that some characters or motifs in the paintings persist. In terms of the interior space
Installation view from the MFA Degree Show St Hatcham's Church 2024
Returning to your question about the underlying narrative of this show, I would argue that my paintings could be likened to stills from a film, capturing different moments or locations from the story rather than portraying a complete narrative. There's a recurring pattern in my work that involves transitioning between mundane everyday scenes and a pretty strange kind of reality, which is, in a sense, disrupted. It's like when you have an ordinary everyday scene where there's nothing special about it, something unexpectedly remarkable occurs, leading to a dramatic shift in perspective.
One of my favourite pieces in the show is the painting "Midnight Reflections at Ommaney Road". It portrays a woman in a typical Victorian bay room, sitting in front of a table with a green tablecloth and some playing cards. The woman gazes intensely at the viewer, but her ambiguous expression leaves us unaware of her inner thoughts. Our curiosity remain eventually unresolved, as the image raises lots of questions. What is the significance of the cards? Is the woman a fortune teller, or are there other symbolisms at play? We can observe the reflections on the window glasses, yet the woman's inner reflections and thoughts remain opaque. This sense of mystery is at the heart of the work, and because it is still a riddle for me, I decided to push this work one step further. The painting inspired me to recreate the work in physical space, so I created an installation. I was fortunate enough to be given a small office room that I transformed to resemble a typical Victorian private room. I used wood to create walls, added real windows and Venetian blinds, laid a red fitted carpet, and painted the outside of the windows with a black hue to give it a nighttime feel. Finally, I collaborated with a performer to portray the lady who stares at us, and I titled the piece "The Same Room Twice". The transition to a different medium was a chain reaction and felt like a natural progression.
Which part of your painting process excites you the most?
The most thrilling part of the painting process is the moment just before I start a new piece. There's something truly magical about making those initial strokes on a blank canvas — the sheer joy of embarking on a new journey. Painting feels akin to setting sail on an adventure, ready to navigate the open sea. When faced with challenges like "unfavourable weather and rough seas," it's crucial to be cautious and well-prepared and to use existing knowledge to overcome obstacles and devise new strategies to tackle potential problems.
Starting a new piece of work always involves a significant amount of draughtsmanship, which remains essential throughout. Drawing the lines, tracing the basic shapes, and arranging the overall composition is my initial process. Once this process is completed, you begin to get a sense of the whole picture. Decision time follows, and all struggles await on the doorstep. But once the composition is sorted, another exciting part is coming. Building up the painting is analogous to architectural construction and the art of building a house. You must dig deep to lay the foundations, set vertical and horizontal references, and take accurate measurements. The columns and the entire structure must be solidly built before adding the walls, roof, doors, and windows. All this standardised, necessary technical work is crucial as it determines the overall quality of the piece, which I always value in my process.
In my most recent project, I found the process of creating my reference image, i.e., the source material for the painting, particularly intriguing and creative. This process reminded me of what film directors do when setting up their mise en scènes. It was captivating because it involved a lot of work, experimentation, and creative imagination to create a single image that could be really powerful.
Homoerotic
You studied at the Athens School of Fine Arts, what was the most significant thing you learnt that you still employ in your practise today? What is the greatest piece of advice you were given?
During my time at the Athens School of Fine Arts, I gained valuable insights. It's challenging to articulate the most significant lesson, but I believe it was the profound understanding that drawing is an essential practice for all visual artists, regardless of their primary medium. It fosters an awareness of space and serves as a gateway to philosophical ontology. Drawing becomes a journey of exploration, a quest for truth and potential, and a continuous process of trial and error. This exploration aims to uncover the organic relationships that govern the existence of beings within space and their coexistence. This pursuit imbues my artistic practice with meaning and serves as a foundational element, whether I'm creating a painting, an installation, or a performance. The ultimate goal is to unearth the place of truth in my work.
Which piece has been your favourite to work on, and why?
I am particularly drawn to two pieces from the series I created for my degree at Goldsmiths: "Midnight Reflections at Ommaney Road" and "In the Desert of Religion." These pieces stand out to me due to their captivating mystery and beauty. Both works place great emphasis on intricate detail and architectural interiors.
In the Desert of Religion
"Midnight Reflections at Ommaney Road" portrays a typical Victorian room interior, with a central figure gazing directly at the viewer. The woman's presence in the space, the room's lighting, the colour scheme of the decoration, the reflections in the windows, and the nocturnal world outside the room come together to give the piece a metaphysical quality, transcending the ordinary nature of the scene.
The interior of the temple showcases an impressive blend of perspective and architecture. While its theme is rooted in Christianity and faith, the cathedral's architectural grandeur as a manifestation of power structure undoubtedly profoundly impacts the individual, irrespective of their beliefs. I am particularly drawn to large architectural spaces due to the challenge they pose in capturing depth and perspective, especially when working from a photograph, which essentially offers a flattened, 2-dimensional representation of space. Despite the waning influence of Catholicism and religion in contemporary society, the immersive experience within the expansive temple space remains captivating. It is this immersive quality that I sought to convey through my work.
Midnight Reflections at Ommaney Road
Who is your greatest artist inspiration? If you could ask them one question, what would it be?
I sincerely appreciate numerous painters throughout art history, but one who particularly stands out to me is Caspar David Friedrich. When it comes to contemporary art, I am drawn to the work of Michaël Borremans, Luc Tuymans, and Gerhard Richter. Each of these artists has significantly influenced my work, and I often find myself reflecting on their work.
Among these artists, Gerhard Richter's work resonates with me the most. His entire career, not just his technical mastery and the influence of the old Dutch Masters in his work, is compelling to me. In one of his books, Richter mentioned, "All that interests me is the grey areas, the passages and the tonal sequences, the pictorial spaces, overlaps and interlockings." He said he would want to paint abstracts if he could find a way to abandon the object as the bearer of the structure of the pictorial space.
I found that very enigmatic, but it has stayed with me since I read it. If I could ask Richter one question, it would be about his concept of "abstract space." How can we conceive of pictorial space without an "object," and what does this abstract space mean to Richter? Does it refer to the space he portrays in his abstract work? For example, another fascinating artist, Donald Judd, stated that his sculptural work has nothing to do with traditional sculpture because he pushed his works out of the pictorial realm. The idea of abstract space versus pictorial space in art is crucial, but at the moment, it feels somewhat broad and vague and requires a more solid definition.
What are your future aspirations as an artist?
My main focus is to carve out precious time and space for meaningful reflection and dialogue with my artistic practice. I often liken my work to a tree, emphasising the importance of nurturing its growth and seeing it bear fruit through exhibitions and collaborations with fellow artists. Regular interaction with colleagues provides valuable feedback and a sense of synchronicity.
As a future aspiration, I want to collaborate with like-minded artists to establish a project space for collective works across diverse mediums. These partnerships have proved precious, enriching my work and personal growth. Additionally, I am eager to engage in art residencies, as they provide the opportunity to immerse myself fully in a new environment, meet and connect with new fellow artists, and gain fresh perspectives. I aim to participate in as many residencies as possible. I believe that the experience of being an artist in residence in different places around the globe and under the auspices and support of diverse institutions is profoundly enriching and advantageous, personally and professionally.
Why do you think art is important in society?
I believe that art has the potential to resist the corrosive forces at play in our late-capitalist society, which undermine social cohesion. By forming small groups with like-minded individuals, artists can engage in critical thinking to determine the type of art that could effectively challenge oppressive governments and the established order or status quo in so called democracies. Art has the power to create a space for revolutionary interventions that carry significant socio-political impact, leading to meaningful change rather than settling for a superficial form of liberal reconciliation.
