Fjords Reviews

October 28, 2019

An Interview with Peter Gerakaris

by Danni Shen

 

 

 

Gouache and gold leaf are meticulously applied to wooden panel in a precision following the traditions of the Cretan-Venetian School of Iconography; this is the most recent painting process of American interdisciplinary artist of Greek descent, Peter Gerakaris. Rather than the austere human figures of classical icon painting, Gerakaris’s contemporary icons give prominence to endangered, threatened, and/or rare flora and fauna species—the White-Faced Owl, Lady’s Slipper Orchid, various corals, Loggerhead Turtle, Pink Dolphin, Giant Panda—just to name a few, float against gold, hybrid, rendered ecosystems, gazes serene yet penetrating. These are the vivid colors of the Anthropocene, the epoch when human disturbances outpace geological forces, when organisms at the brink of extinction flash brilliantly one last time before our eyes.

Following time-honored processes, Gerakaris’s Icon Series not only complicates the anthropomorphization of animals, where endangered species are regarded akin to a holy and precious other in popular environmental imagination, but also dives into contemporary questions and perceptions of the human-animal/nature connection—or rather disconnect—fundamental to re-imagining the precarity of our anthropo-centric times. Reflecting further on how religions often appropriated from pagan mythologies, the symbolic weight of animals in the works simultaneously signal a return to mythological origins, while simulating a contemporary cathedral of nature. Here, the artist calls attention to the entanglement of all life forms, while critically illuminating the visual encounter.

Danni Shen visits with Peter Gerakaris to discuss the development of his work and most recent commission Panda Triptych of the Icon Series, created for the Living Collection of Hong Kong-based architect William Lim.

How did your interest in endangered species begin, and then translate into icon painting?

I have an insatiable appetite for researching subjects and materials before any project. When I learned that several of the owls I was inspired to paint — such as the Spotted Owl — had become endangered in certain regions of the country, this stoked a sense of urgency for the Icon project. I thought I’d go out on a limb to see if I could use Neo-Byzantine painting to illuminate, if not immortalize, these amazing species.

In terms of the Byzantine element, the seeds were really planted in Rome when I took a traditional Icon painting workshop in 2002 (when I also visited Crete with my family to visit our ancestral home, and was wowed by icons from the Cretan-Venetian School of painting). This archaic and sacred process of applying gold leaf by hand, using rabbit skin glue, and mixing egg tempera with a raw yolk really struck a chord.

In 2017, I returned to Rome, immediately followed by an adventure on the Caribbean island of St. Lucia. Somehow, the combined stimuli from these seemingly disparate places — an epitome of Culture contrasted by a tropical island teeming with jungles and coral reefs — ignited this wild idea to transplant endangered species from around the globe within the framework of Neo-Byzantine Icons.

Have you had close encounters with these specific animals, and if so how does that inform the work?

Absolutely! I was privileged to scuba dive with a 6ft long, 200 yr old Loggerhead turtle in Grand Cayman, scope the various fauna of Kruger National Park in South Africa, spot endangered Orange-Breasted falcons in Guatemala’s Mayan Biosphere, etc! These have all been profound experiences: the kind I continue to dream about, which provide endless fodder for the creative process.

How do you hope your works affect awareness and/or action for endangered species, and the dialogue surrounding environmentalism, i.e. your large-scale painting at The National Museum of Wildlife Art in Jackson Hole, Wyoming?

Every experience I’ve had in the natural world, no matter how untouched an ecosystem may first appear, inevitably has some form of human imprint. That could be a wild jungle habitat disturbed by illegal logging, or a portion of some vibrant coral that has been bleached white by rising sea temperatures. But through awareness and action, I do believe there is hope to reverse this. The Icons seek to convey this tension between the beauty and fragility of life.

It’s harder to have these conversations if our art and culture remains detached from the natural world. Rather than thinking of nature as “other,” I believe a good first step is to think of humanity as part of nature. The National Museum of Wildlife Art’s collection and mission is admirable in how they bridge the nature-culture divide. I feel privileged to have a 7 feet x 7 feet painting evoking a North American Barred Owl in The Museum’s permanent collection. It’s a thrill to see audiences calling and responding with the owl, especially now that it’s been adopted as part of the Museum’s educational programming and community.

The Panda Triptych of the Icon series, was created for the living collection of architect William Lim, based in Hong Kong. The flora and fauna in the works are all specific to certain geographical regions, and are not limited to one ecosystem. Can you talk about the composition of this piece and the overall process?

This was a super fun, yet uniquely challenging commission. I started thinking that if it were discovered in the future, the East-West dynamics might represent a sort of 21^st Century Silk Road. To pack all these symbols so densely into an image that unfolds to just ~2 feet (h) x 3 feet (w) meant the composition took some unexpected twists and turns. In particular, the primary unifying element is a landscape that’s constructed like a miniature theater. Here, everything from atmospheric mountains referencing Southern Chinese landscape painting to early-Renaissance brushwork and rock outcrops, serve as a backdrop for an outrageously-sized Giant Panda. I wanted the Panda to tap into our innate desire to anthropomorphize animals, while the Spoonbill and “Pink” Dolphin span the gap between Mainland China and Hong Kong. Lim’s art tower, H Queens, is of course referenced in the distant skyline, while the Neo-Gothic frame itself takes cues from Cornell University’s original campus architecture (a small nod to the fact Lim and I share the same alma mater). And there are plenty other latent symbols and details that I’m happy to leave for the viewer to unpack!

Have there been other species that you have wanted to include in the icon series?

I’ve compiled a big list, but am especially eager to do a giant octopus. And then there’s the Peregrine Falcon, the endangered orchids from South America, etc...but I can’t reveal all my secrets!

What is an ideal environment to show these works?

I don’t think there’s one perfect setting, although I could really envision these works glowing in a Mediterranean Chapel-esque space — maybe installed like a contemporary Iconostasis. They could just as easily feel at home in a botanical garden’s conservatory. Not to mention, I’d love for them to grow in scale and scope, perhaps as large-scale site-specific installations evoking the ancient frescoes or mosaics of an intrados (the interior of a dome).

What’s on the horizon for you?

I’m recovering from having just fabricated and hand-painted a 116 feet long permanent commission through the NYC Percent for Art / Public Art in Public Schools Program for PS101K in Brooklyn. I’m especially jazzed how it transforms the lobby for generations of kids to come. I can’t wait to unveil it this fall!

On a totally different scale and note, I’ve just created a miniature origami sculpture for the 2019 Mykonos Biennale. And among several other projects, including pushing the Icons to the next phase, I’m gearing up for a large, site-specific private commission in Hampton Bays that will reference the ecosystem of Peconic Bay.