Gwen Waight, an award-winning artist based in Northeast Ohio, has been creating found object assemblages for over a decade. She earned her degree in sculpture from the University of Iowa. Gwen won Best In Show in the 1st Annual ActLoCLE Online Juried Art Exhibition for her piece “where are you from?”
Interviewed by Josh Chefitz
January 7, 2025
You are everywhere. In 2024, you were part of exhibitions across the region. What’s that been like for you?
I put myself out there as much as I can. That’s my form of communication with my art, letting people see it and getting that feedback from them.
Describe your medium and a little bit of your background as an artist.
I consider myself a found object assemblagist. I’ve been doing it probably for over 20 years since I’ve been here in Ohio, but I’ve always had a background in art. My father was a potter. So I grew up around art and artists. He was also a teacher for ten years, he taught photography, clay and craft in high school. In the summertimes, he would do art fairs, so I would go to the art fairs with him and help him do stuff. I never got a sense of “I want to do clay,” but what my father did give me was that 3-D appreciation. So if I had to load the van, if I had to put pots in a certain box and fill it up, I always had the sense of mentally playing a kind of 3-D Tetris. When I found “found object,” it really spoke to me. It really was like, yep this is it. This is how I need to communicate. Through found object assemblage.
Talk more about communicating through your work. Are you communicating with the viewer or with yourself?
Usually as I’m working on a piece, that’s just a conversation I’m having with myself. My own emotions, my personal demons, whatever, with gravity, who’s an asshole because everything always falls on the freaking floor. [Laughs.] But it is, that’s my nemesis. If I was like a superhero and I was like “Assemblage Girl,” my nemesis would be gravity–always pulling things down, pulling things off, not having things stay. And then the conversation between people, that happens once I put it out there and that’s why I have a really hard time with artist statements. I don’t like to have things already pre-registered or pre-ordained into people’s heads. I don’t want to put the idea out there. The conversation should be a two-way street. Yes, I started a conversation by having the piece out there, but I don’t want to delegate. Okay, yeah a lot of my pieces talk about racism and, you know, Asian racism and things like that, but then I don’t want to tell people how they need to feel about it. I don’t want to tell people this is what I’m saying and this is how you should follow it. It’s more of a generalization like, here’s a topic and now discuss. So that’s why I have a hard time with artist statements. When I put pieces out there, I don’t necessarily want to tell everybody exactly what this means or how they should think about it.
I’m sorry, Gwen but when you win so many awards, they often put up your artist statements. They’re there and that’s a hard thing that you have to deal with. [Laughs.] People clearly are connecting with your work. I witness the gravitation and I’m sure you see people looking at your work. What is that like for you when people take it in?
I like it, I mean, you know it’s like I said it–that’s my whole job, right? To put it out there to be viewed. I mean, I’m sure there are some artists they’re like, “I make it and it’s mine. It’s personal and I’m not gonna put it out there.” But we’re social creatures and even as introverted as I am, I still am a social creature and I’m still saying stuff and I still want to communicate with people.
I don’t know much about found object assemblage. I wonder, as a found object artist, how does that impact the way that you interact with the world? Your materials are out there to be found, so how does that affect the way you live?
Well for me, it makes almost everything that I do an art session. Like anything that I see or do, it is like taking in some information. “I could use that.” When I grew up, my dad and I, we didn’t have a lot of money. I was an only child. It was just him and I. He was like, “Don’t bother me. I’m working. Entertain yourself. Find out what you need to do that’s gonna make you happy.” And so I did that. I found exactly what it is that makes me happy, and what I need to use to work with. And so my materials are just about everywhere and I love that. I mean, I’m always looking and finding things and going, “That’s beautiful.” I need to use that. It feels pretty freeing I guess is what I should say. It can also feel overwhelming because, you know, being a hunter gatherer, you can be a little bit too much “gatherer” sometimes. So it’s both freeing and consuming.
The type of artist you are, it sounds like you’re almost “on call.” You see something and you’re like, “That’s something I might be able to use.” I think that feeling is something that all artists aspire to have, that feeling, to be taking in the world around them for inspiration.
Yeah, it is. It’s more of a lifestyle than a job because it’s just a constant thing now. I don’t leave that kind of state. Sure there are daily activities, you gotta go grocery shopping, but I see things artfully. I mean, I do obvious daily chores in life, shut that off a little bit, but it seems like it’s more on than off.
What’s a kind of “needle in the haystack” object that you found? And what is maybe a funny story about you finding something that you used in a piece and was meaningful to you?
Oh gosh, it’s funny because I used to do this drive back when I still had kids in school and I used to get on “Old Eight.” Route Eight or whatever, and I was driving and I would constantly see this piece of a bus. It was like obviously a mangled, yellow school bus part that had fallen. It was in the middle section of Route Eight. So I would see it. I would even like point out–“It’s at mile marker 13 before Steels Corner exit. There it is. It’s off in the middle…” And I kept telling my husband, you know, he’s like, “Do not run across the highway to get that bus.” And I’m like, “But it’s so beautiful. It’s mangled in just the right way. Chamberlain himself couldn’t make it that beautiful.” I was like, “I love it”, and I remember driving by and it was gone. And I was so sad. I was cursing myself, “Why didn’t you stop? Why didn’t you get it? You know it’s your loss, you’ll never see it again. They’ll never be…” And come Valentine’s Day, my husband pulls it out of the garage and presents it to me. He had stopped one night when it was late and there wasn’t much traffic, and he got it for me, and then I turned it into a piece so…I really love that piece.
That’s beautiful. I’d like to see it.
Oh sure, I’ll send you a picture. (Pictured below.) It’s, it’s a great piece so…
That’s the best story.
Christmas this year, I got not one, but three hornets nests from my family. So that should tell you, they know me pretty well. I mean they talk about the sacrifice: “I climbed this tree and I threw the dog leash around the tree limb and I yanked…” And so I got three hornets nests this year for Christmas.
You know how comedians have friends who are constantly giving them one-liners? Do you have people who are always just giving you stuff?
Oh yeah, oh yeah. Even before I started found object assemblage, when I lived in Chicago twenty years before I came here to Ohio, I lived in Hyde Park and I took all of my dad’s broken pottery pieces. And I took a whole bunch of broken toys from my kids at the time. And what we call the “Devil Strip” here in Ohio–I went out there, and I embedded in cement, I made these toy mosaics with broken pottery pieces, and one legged Barbies, and matchbox cars without wheels and all this stuff. And I made all these mosaics in the Devil Strip there. And what was one of the best gifts that ever happened to me from that–occasionally, you know, if I was home I could see kids passing by, walking to school with their parents, and they would stop to play “I Spy.” And then even after that, the sweetest thing is every so often I would come home and I would find these little offerings of toys. Broken toys, broken pieces of things like on my doorstep that obviously some kid or parent or somebody thought, “This lady knows what to do with them.” And you know, here’s the offering, and so I thought that was really great. So yeah, I still have people giving me stuff.
I’m sure sometimes it’s an honor. Sometimes it might be like, “Yeah thanks, but I really don’t need this.”
Yeah, I’ve had people, it’s like, “Hey I have this broken vacuum cleaner.” Oh, I have like three broken vacuum cleaners and I’m like, I have to say no, I’m gonna have to pass because space does become limited. But one of my friend’s best stories is her son–he would walk with his mom to school and he would stop and pick something up and she was like, “Quit picking up that trash, quit picking up the junk!” He goes, “It’s not junk, It’s for Gwen.”
I think now, after talking with you, I’m gonna be looking around. I’m gonna be looking at the world differently and I might grab stuff for you too now. And that’s a problem.
I have people all throughout my life that have a “Gwen box.” They’re like, “I have the Gwen box and let’s meet up sometime. Let’s grab a coffee. Let’s do something.” And they present me with their Gwen box of little odds and ends.
What kind of encouragement could you give an artist to start developing their own box, and to create something that’s three-dimensional? What would you say?
For me, like I said, it was just a lifestyle thing. I grew up with it. You know getting that 3-D appreciation was from my father so I guess if people were really interested in opening that point of themselves, I would say observe a lot of 3-D for one. You know, some of my favorite Picasso pieces in the show at the Cleveland Art Museum are his cardboard forms, his cardboard violins and obviously when he moved into clay. And so a lot of artists I think question and are curious about 3-D elements so, you know, I would say observe. That would be the first thing and I mean just your comment in itself, I think me talking about it has already opened up that you’re like, “I’m gonna look at that. I’m gonna see that differently.” So I think, there you go. Go to a show where something like my work is there, and I think that opens up the door for people to go, “This, this is different. This is making me think differently.”
Who are some artists that inspired you and continue to inspire you?
Oh gosh, I always love Louise Nevelson. Still do. It’s just, I loved when I would read about her. I think I always thought, “Oh maybe things are too late.” She was one of those that didn’t have a show until she was I think 49. That was the first show. And then she had a career into her 80s. I love listening to her talk and everybody thinks that her pieces are hard and strong because of the materials, the wood and everything, but she said they’re really you know kind of fragile, and they’re really you know intimate, and I don’t think people always thought that. So I love Louise Nevelson. I love Joseph Cornell. He did a lot of boxes and boxes are definitely something that I love, but I also try and get out of the box and not be contained to a box. So that’s always a challenge to me.
Are there local artists that you think people should check out?
Oh yeah, like Bret Hines, he’s fabulous. I remember when I moved here. He was doing three dimensional work and I was like oh I gotta meet this guy. Oh, La Wilson. One time the Cleveland Art Museum had a “Go Visit Studios,” and I was like, I’m hopping on that, because I don’t know how many times I’d heard people say, “You should really meet La.” She’s another inspiration. She was funny and just so kind and open. It was great to go to her studio and I thought that it was amazing how many similar things that we collected. It’s that way with Bret too. We collect a lot of of the same things and we use them completely different which is so strange because sometimes I think–I don’t know if you ever get this yourself–sometimes when you look at your work, and maybe this is part of like having imposter syndrome or something, where you think, “Oh what I’m doing, anybody would do this.” You know, if I gave somebody these same pens and these same colors, they would do what I do. You know, it’s not that brilliant. And I think that often with my found objects, when I pick up something and I go, “Oh, what I do, somebody else would do that same thing. They would immediately think that.” They don’t. They don’t though.
No one’s ever seen me so clearly. [Laughs.] Yeah, yeah it’s true. It is so true.
It’s not anything brilliant or fantastic. These are ordinary things that everybody would do if given the opportunity, but you’ve got your voice and you’ve got your memories, and your quirks, and your idiosyncrasies, and it all adds up to a wonderment that is your art. And I think that’s a great thing.
I don’t know if you see it, but we can see the thread in your work, that there is this through line, a design language, and I wonder if you’re in on that too.
I try and explain when people are like, “What’s assemblage?” I belong to the National Collage Society and they have opened up shows to include collage and assemblage. And people are like, “Isn’t that a fine line?” And I’ve said, “No, assemblage is just collage in three dimensions.” I always compare a lot of what I do, it’s still like painting. It’s still like, you know, doing what a design artist would have to do. You still have to think about line, you have to think about color, you have to think about composition. These things are still there and they’re important. I always think about those things when I’m making a piece and thinking it through in my head. Not only am I thinking about how am I gonna put this together with that. I still have to think about all those elements of art. I wasn’t taught assemblage, but I did go to art school. I went to the University of Iowa. I mean, I had still life drawing and all those things. I had to take classes. You know, so you still use those elements when you’re working on stuff.
The reason we are talking is because you won Best in Show in the 1st Annual ActLoCLE Online Juried Art Exhibition. When the jurors—Nick Lee, Jordi Rowe, and Anna Young—gave me their selections, I was really thrilled to see your piece (“where are you from?”) win for so many reasons. I mean, it’s pretty cool that a found object piece won Best in Show among all of those great works.
Yeah, I was surprised.
What was that like when you found out?
It’s pretty, I mean, it’s humbling. It’s amazing cause you know I’m often dumbfounded by that. It’s like even my dad and my sister who still does art, she said, “It’s the painters, the painters win the awards, it’s always the painters.” And what’s nice…I don’t know if you’re planning on going to the FRESH: Soft Offerings show at Summit Artspace. Fiber is really getting a resurgence of like “Here, respect us.” And getting like a big art pull, which is nice and so getting that award was kind of a nice nod. Like yeah, you’re doing something valuable, you’re doing something important. Those are good. Good nods to get in your field.
I’m so glad you got it and I’m so glad that you made this piece and submitted it. What can you tell us about the process of making it?
Well, there’s a lot of history and background and part of I guess being Gen X and not doing therapy. I mean, art is my therapy sometimes. I got asked a lot about where I was from as a kid. And when I moved from Iowa, especially when I moved to Chicago, it was a kind of hidden agenda that people had with the question. And so making the piece, there’s a lot of me talking about my childhood and about growing up in Iowa, Asian or at least half Asian. That really mixed people up too. I mean at least most Asians know if you’re full Korean or full Japanese, they would look at me and they would know I’m not full, but they didn’t know what I was mixed with. But white people were like, “Yeah you’re not white, you’re definitely Asian.” So I got, “Where are you from?” a lot. So I took the things like the letter press that I use, the print box where people store the letters to make print, that to me is kind of like a base of a story, like I’m telling a story and so that’s why that was significant. That’s why I use a lot of those letter print boxes is because there’s a story to tell. You know the basis of our languages is letters and syllables and whatnot, so that is the foundation of the piece. And then having an Asian map, and an Asian figure, but then also having, “I’m from Iowa.” So having the corn and the corn sporks and all of the green that I grew up with. That had a big play in all of it so, and I like to take everyday objects and turn them into an aesthetic. Like taking the corn sporks from your corn on the cob and taking the chains that are around hanging down and the icepicks, especially taking something that’s a utilitarian object and turning into an aesthetic. Which is like then taking your pain and taking your suffering and turning it into an aesthetic as well, turning it into something beautiful that you have to say.
Those corn sporks, were those something you had in your back pocket or something you had to go find online?
Nope, I actually have a ton of them. I have jars of them. [Laughs.] Isn’t that hilarious, it’s just like I have so many corn things. I have corn salt and pepper shakers. There are certain things that I’m drawn to from my childhood which I’m sure you are too. Memory. Aesthetic. Bananas are that way for me too, which is also a term and a slur that I’ve had to deal with all my life, but that icon of a banana, it’s just the perfect thing sometimes. I collect those too. I’ll have a whole jar of like different types of banana things, and corn sporks and different things.
What kind of advice would you give to someone who is reading this who is kind of just starting out on their creative journey?
I think it would be to say yes a lot more than no and follow it as much as you can to its end. Because even when I’m starting to make a piece, I usually just gather a whole bunch of “yes.” I’m like: the color, the texture, the meaning behind it. All these things–I’m gathering, and I will assemble them on the floor in a loose makeshift pile of a lot of yes, and it isn’t until I kinda have to pare back and kind of whittle away and take some things out. And it may not even be that they are definite “nos.” It’s just maybe not right now. Maybe this needs to wait or even, in the pile of things that I see in the pile of yeses, it is a more significant yes for another idea. I don’t know if that makes any sense.
No, it does. What I’m hearing is “stay open.”
Oh yeah, definitely yeah be open to things, be open to them. When I’m looking at other people’s art and stuff. I’m just going, “Oh man, yeah they really, they thought something that I wouldn’t have thought and that’s amazing and wonderful, and I’m amazed by other people’s viewpoints and how they would take you know an object or paint and paper in a totally different direction. And so I guess that’s why that saying “yes” a lot and being open to your ideas and not shutting them down or not getting into that box of, “Well, somebody else has done this” or “I can’t do it as well” or “I don’t know if I have anything to say.” It’s better when you have those open ended ideas and you can kind of follow them.
What’s next for you? What’s coming up, exhibitions, projects…what’s up?
Well, part of the problem is I’ve lost my photographer and so I don’t have somebody photographing my art. So if you have a photographer if you’d like to share, well then send it along cause I don’t have a photographer anymore. So I’m like, oh maybe this is the end of my doing juried shows and everything, because I don’t take pictures well at all. I’m horrible at it, especially when I add all the elements that I do, like mirrors and I’m like oh how do I get this out of here. But so I am applying to a few shows that I usually do around this time. But I might scale back. I’m thinking losing my photographer was kind of a little nudge to tell me you know, maybe you can come back to the juried shows later and focus on a body of work that you’ve been wanting to do and haven’t done. I mean I have a lot of these ideas and I’m just like, oh I can’t work on that right now because I have to get ready for the “this show” or I have the ”this show” to make a piece for. So I don’t have that necessarily pushing me, so maybe I can sit back and go, no now is the time. Now is the time to work on that big piece that you’ve been kind of not doing. That’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna work on some larger pieces that I’ve been thinking about.
I think that’s awesome and I promise to be patient.
[Laughs.] Still, you know, I still have enough of a neurosis that I’ll still be like…Don’t you get that thing where they send you those art calls and you go, “I should apply. I should, I should try.”
“I don’t like Mondays” // Gwen Waight