Interview with Rainen Knecht

By LINDSAY COSTELLO

The moment I caught a glimpse of Rainen Knecht’s new paintings, I knew I needed to talk to her about them directly. Knecht’s solo exhibition, R U My Mother? at Fourteen30 Contemporary, flows with symbolism without feeling pretentious or entirely obscured. Some references are clear—the Minotaur, the Jersey Devil. There’s an overarching theme of mothers with children and the spectrum of emotions accompanying such bonds. Knecht forges fresh ground by pairing the idea of motherhood, as both a complex relationship and an intricate role, with elements of horror, myth, and folklore. 

Knecht’s paintings rest in a dichotomous, fringe space. Her color palette is bright but sickly, her figures grin through pain. Loose, wobbling bodies move like the wind, but also feel trapped and isolated on the canvas. While Knecht’s references to folklore and mythology are rooted in deeply human emotions and understandings, her figures are also experiencing a newness—her mothers feel profound joy while facing discomfort and challenges yet unknown.

I talked to Knecht about these contrasts and more.

 

Self Portrait with Freddie, 2020; oil on linen with artist frame; 14 x 11 / 18 x 15 inches. Images courtesy of Fourteen30 Contemporary.


 

Lindsay Costello: What did your art-making practice look like for the creation of this exhibition's works? Can you walk me through a day in your studio?

Rainen Knecht: Ha, I wish I had days in the studio. Right now, I work part-time, so I am only able to paint on the days I am home, and on weekends. I actually only worked on these paintings during Freddie, my daughter's, naptimes (two hours) and after bedtime (7-10 PM). Of course, I worked basically every day for three months! So, my studio time is desperate—grabbed whenever possible and intensely focused. Like, I basically walk in (with maybe a sparkling water? Or tea, when it was super cold) and just pick up a brush and start painting. In fact, I don't really have a studio! I painted these in the corner of our garage.

LC: It's your second year of motherhood, which you touch on as an influence for R U My Mother? in your show statement. Many of the figures in your paintings, such as Visible worm, Crone and Creature, Mom in a World on Fire, The Jersey Devil's Daughter, and Self Portrait with Freddie depict mothers experiencing varying emotions with their children. Can you elaborate on how motherhood impacted your works and process for this show?

RK: See the previous question, ha. Seriously, there were a lot of very practical impacts. Those really helped me with the painting—people always talk about limiting your palette, or tools, you know, how that can force more creative problem solving into the work. I think it was something like that, being a mom and scraping together paintings twenty minutes at a time. I think that lack of time forced me to trust myself more (a constant struggle when I first started making art); also, it made every move feel urgent and necessary. The fact that so many mothers appeared was just what happened. I make my paintings without any plans or drawings, so it is really a response to the paint and what it does and what that reminds me of, etc. that moves them into figurative paintings. R U My Mother? is sort of biographical in a different way, too. I lost my mom to cancer when I was thirty. Having a kid after she was gone was never my plan, and I knew it would be hard, but it proved MUCH harder—mostly because that grief resurfaced in new ways. I also struggled with some pretty intense postpartum anxiety and depression. These paintings are almost as much about that, and about how that question, “Are you my mother?”, doesn't have an answer for me anymore. I am my mother, too, in that way that everyone says they turned into their own parents when they had their own kids. Having a kid brought a lot of pure joy into my life, too, which I hadn't realized wasn't so available before. I think I was able to draw from that while making these; even though it felt intense, it was very pleasurable.

 

Visible worm, 2020; oil on linen with artist frame; 14 x 11 / 18 x 15 inches. Images courtesy of Fourteen30 Contemporary.

Crone and Creature, 2020; oil on canvas with artist frame; 14 x 11 / 18 x 15 inches. Images courtesy of Fourteen30 Contemporary.


 

LC: Your paintings seem to occupy a space of liminality or flux; they are colorful and devilish, joyous and spooky, grotesque yet touching. Do these relationships resonate with you? 

RK: Yes. I really think that humans are capable of holding conflicting thoughts and feelings and I want my paintings to help foster that. I love the attraction/repulsion that comes through so much of the art that I find inspiring. Conflict is part of being human! But also, I don't like tidy narratives. I just realized the other day how much I (as a kid) gravitated towards villainesses— Ursula, Cruella, etc...not because they were cruel, but because they had power. It's funny because I find the maligned women of my youth endlessly fascinating, too. 

LC: A friend of mine compared your paintings to tarot card compositions; I notice a lot of imagery in your paintings that feels folkloric and/or mythological, both directly and indirectly. What media do you look to for inspiration? Are there any stories, films, etc. that you'd suggest a viewer check out in tandem with R U My Mother??

RK: Well, I love that! I actually started a project of making tarot cards ten years ago that will never be finished! But I appreciate the connection.

I am hugely influenced by folk stories, mythology, fairy tales, etc. I also draw from horror movies, anime, urban legends, pulp movies, and posters. These paintings have a lot of Greek myth energy (Gorgons, harpies and the Minotaur are all repping). [My painting] The Jersey Devil’s Daughter is from an episode of The X Files. [My painting] Visible worm is a play on “the invisible worm,” a nickname for tuberculosis. I almost called the painting Sick Mommy, partially informed by my own experience with a sick mom; I also simply wanted to represent a sick mom, which it seems like society is most afraid of. Whether "sick" means chronically ill or mentally ill or addicted, I wanted the moms I painted to be beautiful AND flawed. 

[My painting] Mom in a World on Fire is a bit Firestarter and Carrie, so my recommendations are definitely those movies—Carrie, Firestarter, plus the original Stepford Wives, Phenomena (Creepers), Beetlejuice, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer (the show). My list of trashy movies is a mile long! I was reading Alice Notely, Diane di Prima, Arthur Rimbaud, and Cookie Mueller (snippets of each,  because since having a kid I haven't read a book all the way through!). Also, just plain old fairy tales and nursery rhymes (many of which are deeply disturbing), i.e. "Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home, your house is on fire, your children are gone."

 

The Jersey Devil’s Daughter, 2020; oil on linen with artist frame; 12 x 16 / 16 x 18 inches. Images courtesy of Fourteen30 Contemporary.

 
 

Mom in a World on Fire, 2020; oil on canvas with artist frame; 14 x 11 / 18 x 15 inches. Images courtesy of Fourteen30 Contemporary.


 

LC: I'd like to know more about the textural frames you used for each piece in this exhibition. What inspired these? 

RK: Originally, just my love of decorative art and abstraction. I was looking at a lot of Elizabeth Murray and Niki de St. Phalle, plus folk artists like Joseph Yoakum and Madge Gill. I looked at folk furniture, The World of Interiors, and Florine Stettheimer, plus my favorite schools of painting: Bay Area Figurative, the Chicago Imagists, the Blue Rider, German Expressionists, the Nabis, pre-Raphaelites and Symbolists, Rococo, and sort-of Romantic painters like Fragonard and Chardin.  I wanted the paintings to extend, but not become bigger if that makes sense. I wanted the world to extend, but not too literally. These paintings are much more personal, so I wanted a buffer between them and the outside world...like when a dream sequence happens and the space between the dream image and real-life gets fuzzy or swirly...like little psychic lifejackets. But I had a feeling they would be fun to make, and they were. I plan on making more!

LC: What's next for you?

RK: Not too much; a show at Leftfield gallery (on the coast of California, just outside of Big Sur). And lots of drawing and gardening (I have a yard I am excited about, but also overwhelmed by)!

———

R U My Mother? is on view at Fourteen30 Contemporary until March 7, 2021.

 
Installation image of R U My Mother? at Fourteen30 Contemporary. Images courtesy of Fourteen30 Contemporary.

Installation image of R U My Mother? at Fourteen30 Contemporary. Images courtesy of Fourteen30 Contemporary.


 

Rainen Knecht studied at the San Francisco Art Institute, graduating with a BFA in Painting in 2006. Knecht’s exhibition history includes solo and two-person exhibitions at Fourteen30 Contemporary (Portland, OR), SITUATIONS (New York, NY), and CAPITAL (San Francisco, CA) as well as group exhibitions at Fisher Parrish (Brooklyn, NY), Stems Gallery (Brussels, BE), Royal Nonesuch Gallery (Oakland, CA), Either Way (Los Angeles, CA) and PMOMA (Portland, OR). Knecht is currently based in Portland, OR.

Lindsay Costello is an artist, writer, and herbalist-in-training in Portland, OR. She is the founder/editor of soft surface poetry and the co-founder of Critical Viewing. She has written art criticism for Hyperallergic, Art Papers, Art Practical, and many other publications.