Jacqueline Ott: Modus Magnum Opus
Arranging arrays and matrices latent in the framework of the latest in the Holocene is Jacqueline Ott’s occupation. Like precariously plucking a gossamer dulcimer, her tones are deliberate and dulcet but never dull. Options are aligned and obscurity obliterated, she is obsequious to this operation yet her work stirs within you effortless effervescence. As it occupies your heart, you will know now there is never a reason to go without; there is an ending to obsolescence. On a walk one October day in Providence, the remarks of Jacqueline Ott evinced a great foreseeing into an inexhaustible schema of artistic possibility.
T: I interacted with your work in Jamestown, and I'd like to talk about that, but before we get to it, I just want to know a little bit more about you and your journey as an artist. What's been a motivating factor for working?
J: I've always drawn and made things since I was really young. I just can't imagine doing anything else. There's really nothing else that I can focus on the way I can focus on doing my work.
T: How long have you been working with your career as an artist?
J: Let's see: 40 some years.
T: Was there a defining moment or several moments that made you want to be an artist or did you just assume the mantle of the artist?
J: I went to art school for undergraduate school and graduate school, so, for me—I know it wasn't true for all people who got MFA's—there wasn't any question about what I was going to be doing. It wasn't like assuming a mantle or anything, it was just "this is what I do." Some people are engineers and use their creativity that way. Doctors, they use their creativity in a certain way. So, it wasn't like assuming a mantle, it was just something I just did. I didn't really think about it one way or another.
T: What did your initial interest in art look like in regard to your earlier work?
J: I guess it depends on when you're talking about. When you're in high school, you have a certain understanding of things that grows as you grow. So, it depends on where on that continuum you're asking me. It's kind of hard to nail down, I guess, because I've been working continuously for so long. It just is constantly evolving. There's never been anything in between. It's what I've always done and that's probably what I'll continue doing because why change now.
T: Very well. Can I ask you this: what's your favorite music?
J: My favorite music? Well, it kind of depends. I listen to classical piano, maybe 70 percent of the time. What I'm listening to kind of depends on what I need at that moment and, what I mean by that is, different composers have different kinds of structures to their music and so, sometimes I need something that is very structured in a very—I don't know—not predictable way. So, I might listen to Bach piano works.
T: I like Schubert.
J: Schubert is good. I mean, they're all good, but it depends on what I need...I mean, I sort of view music when I'm working as kind of a medicine. Most of the time, I'm not listening to anything. Especially if I have to, y'know—I'm thinking a lot. But, sometimes towards the end of the day, if it's like 4:30 or 5 or so and I'm feeling kind of dragging, then I might listen to some kind of 80s hip-hop which is a good pick-me-up.
T: Yeah, it is, isn't it? And that's all that's going on in your studio?
J: Yeah.
T: How do you like to keep your studio?
J: Neat.
T: You must have, like, a table or desk.
J: I have a couple of 4 x 8 tables, a couple of smaller tables.
T: Your studio is a domain you construct. It's like its own work of art, if you will.
J: Well, no, I don't feel like it's a work of art, but I think it is a reflection of just the way I am, a certain amount of organization.
T: Is there anything else you'd like to include before we move on and talk about your latest work?
J: No, that's good. Of course, that's recent work and it's all connected. Even though some of the work—diamond froth looks so different from point-to-curve—it's the same thinking behind it; it's just a different expression of the same kind of thinking.
T: It's a manipulation of the organization. It said it in the excerpt at Jamestown: you're examining and testing these shapes, these patterns. Is there a secret to the naming convention?
J: No secret, but a lot of thought goes into it.
T: When did you start those pieces that were in Jamestown?
J: Well, I started different ones at different times. Most of them are from 2020 and 2021.
T: So within the year?
J: Yeah, and some of the diamond froth are older. Some of those are from 2008 and some are 2019.
T: What was your inspiration in regards to the forms and media and organization of these pieces?
J: Well, the point-to-curve, that whole body of work, was in response to deciding to do work that consisted of circles, segments and arcs. Previously, I had been working on things that were repeated more like diamond froth. Diamond froth is taking graduated hexagons in a triangular grid with a repeated mark and creating those forms. This time, I decided to use curves and arcs as the repeated marks.
T: And you did so with?
diamond froth
J: [diamond froth] was graphite. I choose whatever material is going to put the idea forward the best. I'm not attached to any one media.
T: Where did it take you? What was the experience with making these?
J: It was fun. Where did it take me? Just on to the next thing, which I'm not sure yet what that is, but it's just fun to create problems and solve them for me.
T: I agree.
J: So that's basically what a lot of art is about: setting up a problem and then solving it.
T: What did you carry with you in that process?
J: What do you mean?
T: Like, on a spiritual or a mental level. Did you have an emotion that you...
J: No.
T: Just solving the problem, right?
J: Yeah. Thinking through this, that or which possibilities would be more interesting. I don't want to do something that is too obvious or too trite. It's not like an emotional thing. It's more of an intellectual thing, I think.
T: You are manufacturing almost 100 pieces. A certain level of mechanical/intellectual approach is necessitated because there is quite a lot to get done. Did you have in your mind a certain number that you wanted?
J: No. I knew how many pieces I needed for the wall [in Jamestown] but I also knew that I needed to make more than what I needed for the wall. When you're doing a multi-panel installation like that, you need to have a lot of extras so that you can group things so that they look good together, which means you have to be able to pick and choose from a bigger body of work to get the smaller amount that you think you need for the piece.
T: Did you make these prior to being engaged with Jamestown Art Center? Or did they come to you?
J: Well, the diamond froth I had already, you know, done other installations like that. I had done individual pieces—like all of the pieces—in the point-to-curve. So in a sense, I had done a few previously. I knew that I wanted to do more, so the show seemed like a perfect opportunity to make as many as I wanted and then put them into a single installation.
T: It must feel accomplishing when all the pieces are installed.
J: It was great seeing the whole thing installed because I didn't have enough space in my studio for something like that and I knew how I wanted everything positioned. I don't know if you noticed, but it is symmetrical on the wall and I was not sure how it actually was going up. It came out, well, pretty much the way I thought it would or the way I hoped it would!
T: I noticed there was, on the first row—
J: The bottom row?
T: The top row. There was one pink one while all the rest were white.
J: No, there's actually two that are slightly different colors.
T: Oh, there are?
J: Yeah.
T: I noticed the pink one and I was compelled to ask about it. I thought that was very interesting.
J: That's one of the first ones—well, it's not one of the first ones I did, but I was trying out different color backgrounds and that was one of them that I tried, and I decided to put it in just as, um, I don't know, for people like you! There is another one, also, that's a slightly different color. It's a very warm gray. It doesn't stand out as much as the pink, but you know it worked with the rest of the pieces. I just thought, you know, it's so—everything is, like, so predictable, I'm going to put this in as a bit of unpredictability, I guess.
T: Do the colors in the pieces like cyan and orange have any particular significance?
J: Well, I knew that I wanted the outline colors to appear brighter than they actually are, so that's why I chose that background and I knew those two colors worked together well for my purposes. I want to see the blue outline obviously seem a lot quieter than the orange. I knew I wanted one bright and one not-so-bright because you're not trying to create a reflective outline, but something that has a lot of weight to it and then getting quieter as you work towards the center or the shape, so orange was a good solution for that and then you're just thinking, "what color you want to go with that that's also going to work well with the background?"
T: I found that the point-to-curves had a linking aspect, like a chain. They also reminded me of clouds, too. Was there a sense of producing forms that were reminiscent of figures like that or were you just exploring with this process that you decided to do?
J: You mean was I trying to? No, I was not; I was not trying to replicate anything, and...what is that?
[We were strolling past Prospect Terrace on Congdon Street. There was a sturdy, translucent tent of decent size with a beautiful arrangement for a picnic. On an ornate rug, a low table was equipped with ornaments, plates, and a bouquet in the center. Around it, plump cushions. Two children were the tent’s only occupants.]
T: It looks very nice.
J: It does. It looks like a good idea!
T: On a rainy day like today, that would be nice.
J: Yeah. Um...
T: I wonder if that's meant for those children or...
J: I think they must have brought it with them.
T: I would assume so, right?
J: Um, you know, I was surprised in working with those curves and arc segments what emerged because I had done another, previous series just using arcs and not really completed circles...and it was a totally different outcome. I was surprised that a lot of these started coming out looking like, y'know, anime or something like that.
T: Did you say anime?
J: Yeah. Maybe I'm pronouncing it wrong.
T: No, that's right. I was...I don't know. I guess I was just surprised that you were familiar with that, although I suppose I shouldn't be.
J: It's a great form.
T: Yeah, it is, isn't it?
J: So, as I said before, I didn't want to get too cute. There's a line that I could see that I shouldn't cross or I didn't want to cross. But, I kind of liked what was happening, because it certainly wasn't what I was expecting at all. You get an idea and it's not what you were thinking was going to happen but then you just go with it.
T: It's a pleasant surprise how, with this process that's deliberate, makes something that exceeds expectations.
J: Well, it wasn't what you anticipated. You think you know what you're going to do and then it turns out you don't; something else happened.
T: That's the magic.
J: Something else intervened.
T: Your work has been installed before in galleries like Jamestown. What was a place that you've had your work hung up that was particularly significant or exciting to you?
J: Well, you know, every place is exciting just to see your work out there. Do you want to go up that way or to Benefit Street?
T: Oh, we'll go up this way. I have a couple more questions.
J: I was happy—it was actually quite a few years ago now—but I had a show at Carroll & Sons gallery in Boston; that closed a couple years ago. I've had a couple of shows in Boston that I was really happy with, a few shows at the museums. The museum owns some pieces of mine, so every once in a while, they have some kind of show where it's appropriate to bring one out; that's always great to see something in the museum. I've never had the opportunities that Jamestown [Art Center] presented with that huge wall. That was really exciting.
T: Did you collaborate with Allison Paschke at all?
J: We applied together, but we did not collaborate on work. I knew some of the things and she knew some of the things I was working on.
T: Has the art world changed in your career?
J: Oh, well, yeah.
T: Extremely?
J: Extremely.
T: Does that have to do with communication technology?
J: No, I don't think so, although communication technology has certainly changed it. When I was in undergraduate school, which was in the 60s, people didn't think about making money from their art. It just wasn't a concept. Over the years, I think that's what's changed the most. Of course, if you're a younger person, you started doing artwork, say in the 80s or 90s, then certainly the internet would be the biggest change and the internet is a big change because now a lot of galleries only sell online or most of their sales are online. It just depends on when you came on the scene, "what was the biggest change?" But, even though technology is a huge change, I think the biggest change in my lifetime is just the money.
T: The money.
J: The money.
T: Are you seeing more of it now than before?
J: Am I seeing it now? Me, personally, no, I'm not seeing it. In terms of collectors and buying contemporary art and buying for investment, which has always been going on, but not to this degree. I think in the 80s, that's when it really started.
T: One day, I hope to be like an Albert C. Barnes of sorts. Oh, you're from Philadelphia, right?
J: Yeah, I know the Barnes Collection. And unfortunately, you must also know that they moved the museum.
T: That was very unfortunate to go against his wishes.
J: Yeah, absolutely.
T: Would you say we're in like a renaissance? Or is it more like an apocalypse?
J: In terms of?
T: In terms of art having a global impact; the rise of art on a global scale. That's what I would consider a renaissance, that level of proliferation.
J: No, I wouldn't say it's a renaissance, I guess, not in the way I think of it. I think of a renaissance as...
T: The Renaissance?
J: Yes. I don't feel like we're in a renaissance.
T: OK.
J: Or an apocalypse.
T: It's a different time altogether?
J: Yes.
An example of Jacqueline’s mm-99 series.
T: Very well. What's one thing you wish you could invent?
J: Oh gosh. I don't know. Let's see. I think it would be something functional that I really need to make my life easier. What would that be? I'd have to give that—that's a hard question to answer right on the spot. There's so many things.
T: We can circle around to it. Do you have a singular piece that embodies you or that your heart is in it the most? Is there something that you've done that sticks out to you the most as the most "you" in terms of expression?
J: You know, I don't really. I mean, I have some favorite pieces from different times in my life, but they can change, you know? If I'm getting out older work and I look at it, I—which direction?
T: Let's go that way.
J: OK. Some things that, when I did them, I thought were dogs and I pulled them out and I look at them again and I think, "well, wasn't that bad of a dog." Maybe there's something I can get from it. So it changes. Something that a few years ago I might've thought, "oh, this...this is good, I like this." And then I look at it later—three or four years, five, however many years later—and I think that it's not worth keeping so that I can refer back to it. I don't think that really answered your question.
T: There's no wrong answer to these questions. I just enjoy the abstraction of thought. There is no agenda to these interviews sometimes.
J: Well, is that good or bad?
T: I like to play with the format. It's art. It's just a process. It's fun. Are you religious?
J: Um, kind of, I guess.
T: Something I forgot to ask earlier: you taught, right? You were a teacher at RISD.
J: At RISD, briefly at Brown, and more briefly at Roger Williams.
T: Goodness, that is very prestigious. Would you agree?
J: I don't know. I, you know...I didn't really think of it that way.
T: Were you proud of some of your students?
J: Oh, sure, proud of them doing the best work that they could do in my classes, just responding to assignments whole-heartedly.
T: Being a professor of art: that's certainly an accomplishment in itself. It seems to me that the title validates your expertise, when a school wants you to teach college-level students about art.
J: I don't know.
T: Before we finish, did you consider maybe something you'd like to invent?
J: It has to be something handy to check for household tasks or around the studio, something like extra lightweight ladders. I'm not sure what it would be because there are so many things I could use.
T: How does it feel to be an artist for so long or just at all, not even for any length of time, just to be an artist?
J: ...It probably feels the same as someone who's been a, you know, communications person for a long time: you've acquired a lot of knowledge. I think artists are just like everybody else. You gain a lot from sticking to what you're doing.
In the interstice of existence, there lies a line that time brings to a terminus. Station to station, a line to a dot. An occupation’s service rendered through the pure grip of engrossment is like the vernal bloom of colorful flora fostered by the replete absorption of sun and rain: beauty worth pause entrenched in the mirth and mystery of life. Why ask why when so seldom we supply the answer to “why not?” Jacqueline Ott is just a person with an art, yet it’s feasible to ascertain this agent of one’s own will as she finds the problem of purpose solved so freely with one imperative: to be.
