Wings without wax: artist Tim Schapker takes on Icarus in “Mere Mortals”

A piece from Tim Schapker's "Mere Mortals," which opens this Friday at the Romaine Brooks Gallery.

Tim Schapker is flying perilously close to the Sun.

At least, that’s what some might say of the artist, whose show “Mere Mortals” opens this Friday at the Romaine Brooks Gallery (top floor of the Pride Center of the Capital Region at 332 Hudson Ave). The show marks a shift in Tim not only as an artist but in his personal and professional life as well, leaving behind a successful graphic design career to pursue his lifelong passion of art.

I was introduced to Tim by Gallery curator and local artist Alan Ilagan during last month’s installment of 1st Friday Albany, where we struck up conversation on a number of topics, mostly focused around his forthcoming show and the focus of his creative pursuits.

Tim’s inspiration for “Mere Mortals” is the tale of Icarus, son of Daedalus, who attempts to escape the isle of Crete using wings constructed by his father. Daedalus warns him not to fly too close to the Sun but Icarus, euphoric from the experience of flight, foregoes and refuses to heed his father’s advice. The wax melts and Icarus, who initially sought only to use the wings as a means of escape, becomes a victim of elation, hubris, and his own ambition.

Naturally, Tim takes issue with the moral of the mythological tale, which led to a conversation about some of the more absurd lessons and elements of ancient mythology. Why does Zeus, the all-powerful King of the Gods, need to disguise himself as a bull to get laid anyway? Tim’s fascination with both the tale and his inability to reconcile its lesson with his own life and personal fulfillment inspired and informed his work on “Mere Mortals,” depicting models as Icarus in mid-flight, sans the restrictive and limited endgame of the original mythos. There are no wings, warnings, or melted wax. There is only Icarus and his ascent.

Tim was kind enough to answer some of my questions about his work and give us a preview of what’s in store for the unveiling of his work on Friday evening.

“Mere Mortals” will be unveiled this Friday at the Romaine Brooks Gallery (332 Hudson Ave., Albany) featuring a reception with the artist from 5:00pm until 9:00pm.

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KEVIN MARSHALL: What is “Mere Mortals?”

TIM SCHAPKER: Mere mortals are ordinary people. We’re all mere mortals. And yet some of us do extraordinary things. Not because we have special powers, but because we choose to ignore the conventional thinking and the constant voices that say “you can’t, you shouldn’t.” In every image from Mere Mortals, whether the models are flying through the clouds or floating just inches from earth, they are transcending the classification of ordinary and flying, if only for a moment.

KM: In your artist’s statement, you make it clear that you’re an artist that creates images, with the pre-production and post-production an equitable part of the process, rather than just a photographer. How important is that distinction for you to make?

SCHAPKER: It’s important in that I’m trying to create a vision, not merely recording what I see. I often walk around with my camera in hand and take photos, but that journalistic activity is very different than what I’ve created for this show. The images I’ve created for this show are very deliberate and contrived. I still consider myself to be a photographer, and while some photographers may argue that these images aren’t pure photography, I feel the work is 100% rooted in photography. I’m not documenting the world in this show; I’m using my photographs as building blocks to create a new world.

Even poster. Click for full size.

KM: Do you find yourself having to clarify or qualify that for a lot of people?

SCHAPKER: I think there is a perception that photography and art are two different things —that photography is easy and art is hard. Everyone has a camera, so photography seems immediately familiar. But there is so much more than merely pressing a button to get an artistic photo. Photography is easy to learn, but hard to master. There are lots of photos from the depression, but few photographers were able to capture the emotion that Dorothea Lange did. There are millions of photos taken in Yellowstone park, but most don’t look like the work of Ansel Adams. I certainly don’t have the skill to create the kind of work that Gregory Crewdson, Pierre et Gilles or David LaChapelle are creating. People don’t really have an idea of my process for creating these images, so I get lots of “how did you do that” kind of questions. They know that people can’t levitate, so they’re intrigued as to whether the models are jumping, or lying on the ground or supported by wires. And they sometimes assume that the models were shot on location, which I’m really happy about. The models are all shot in my studio. I take photos of clouds every time I get on an airplane, and I shot many of the backgrounds while in India. Quite a few of the backgrounds are composites of several photos, and no one seems to notice, so I’m fairly pleased that the images are believable.

KM: Why Icarus?

SCHAPKER: The very brief story of Icarus that he and his father Daedalus were imprisoned in a Labyrinth. In order to escape, Daedalus constructed wings for them from feathers and wax. Although his father warned Icarus not too fly too close to the sun, Icarus—giddy from the exhilaration of flying—rose higher and higher. His wings melted and he fell to his death. So I suppose the lesson is about failed ambition or an overestimation of one’s competence. The problem I have with that message is that we humans love to play it safe, so we usually stop far short of our actual potential. I think it’s a much better thing to shoot for Mars and only make it to the moon, than to shoot for Detroit and reach my goal. I prefer the approach of Samuel Beckett ¬— “Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” I think we all know we could do really great things if we could just get rid of that voice that says we can’t do it. Icarus says “all limits are self-imposed.” I know in the story that Icarus ended up dying, but he also flew. Having jumped out of an airplane before, I can tell you that’s a pretty powerful and amazing thing. So half of the photos for Mere Mortals are very modern takes on Icarus — they’re beautiful nude portraits of men falling through the heavens. In the other half of the photos the men are slightly more — but not entirely — grounded. Classic nude men float just a few inches above the earth. They transcend the classification of mere mortals and fly, even if only a few inches of the ground.

KM: One could argue that tales like that of Icarus are one of those fables that are created out of systemic oppression; stay in your role or you’ll suffer the consequences. Do you feel your disagreement with the lesson conveyed in the myth speaks to your approach towards modern society?

SCHAPKER: Well I’ve always been an outsider. As a child I was always a bit of a sissy. In high school and college I hung out with the punk and new wave crowd (yes, I’m that old). I was one of a handful of white kids who hung out at the Black Cultural Center at Purdue. And now I’m an artist, which is completely devalued by our society. So because I’m an outsider, I realize that we don’t have to do what we’re told we have to do. I run into so many people who are unhappy with their lives, but they don’t realize that you’re allowed to change your mind at any time. Granted, there are consequences to forging a new path, but there are consequences to continuing with the same unhappy life. I only get one chance at this life, so I resent a story like Icarus telling me to play it safe, when I’ve played it safe all my life and never really reached my potential.

KM: It’s your first show, and you’re leaving a lot behind to make it work. Are you Icarus?

SCHAPKER: I think we’re all Icarus. That’s why the story has been around for thousands of years. All of us dream of doing something out of the ordinary, of going beyond what we perceive to be our limitations. My investment in my art career is certainly a leap of faith. Cameras, lenses, lighting, backdrops, model fees, printing, and framing aren’t cheap. And I quit my job to pursue fine art photography full time (while still doing some freelance on the side). Of course my partner of almost 15 years, Vinny, is ready to catch me if I fall. I’m extremely fortunate to have someone who believes in me so strongly, understands my passion for art, and encourages me to live a creative life. Still, it’s a terrifying and exhilarating experience.

KM: Were there any other artistic interpretations or takes on Icarus that inspired “Mere Mortals”?

SCHAPKER: I didn’t really look for other representations of Icarus, but there are certainly other artists who inspire and inform my work. The four photographers who have the most influence on my current photography are David LaChapelle, Pierre et Gilles, Cindy Sherman, and Gregory Crewdson. All of them have a strong narrative in their photos. Their photos are very planned and staged and rely on lots¬¬¬ of pre- and post-production work. Norman Rockwell is a huge inspiration to me. If I could succeed in packing half the story that he can put into a single painting, I’d consider myself pretty talented.

KM: How integral were the models? Do you feel like they’re part of the process itself, helping to shape the piece, or do you view them more as set pieces?

SCHAPKER: Creating these images really felt like putting together a jigsaw puzzle, and every piece helped me identify the next piece. Each model I worked with brought something different to the project and each one was an absolute pleasure to work with. While I created a basic framework for capturing the image, they each had unique ideas of what it means to be falling or floating. The shoots with each model took about two hours, and I shot maybe 150-200 iamges. Then I sorted through the images for the ones I thought might work, and tried various combinations of models with backgrounds until I found two that fit together. I was amazed at how willing the models were to try things that must have felt pretty strange to them. They all look relaxed in the photos, but it was a really physical shoot. I hope to photograph every one of them again in the future.

KM: What was it that inspired you to become and identify as an artist?

SCHAPKER: I’ve always created things since I was a child. My mom worked at Sears and made all the craft displays back when Sears sold crafts. She was also a Brownie leader and she organized crafts for the girls. So there was always glue, construction paper, glitter, crayons, paints, and pipe cleaners lying around. We were always making things in our house. But as I grew up I never studied art formally, so I had trouble labeling myself as an artist. I first attended Burning Man in 2009 and the experience really affected me. There is so much positive energy and affirmation, especially regarding self-expression. It was after that first festival that I realized it’s OK to call myself an artist, a REAL artist and not just a hobbyist. So for the 2010 festival I created an installation as a thank you to the Burning Man community. It was quite modest by Burning Man standards and not terribly flashy or loud, but some people really connected with it. I chatted with a young woman who told me it was her favorite thing there because it reminded her of a recurring dreamworld she had imagined as a child. Often I would walk by at night and see a group of people camped out in the soft pool of light created by the installation, sharing a drink and a conversation. A group of dancers did an improvisational performance in it. That installation really taught me that it’s OK if some people don’t like my art, in fact someone will definitely hate what I create. But someone will also like it, or get it, or be inspired by it, or be touched by it. In the end, our relationship to art is personal.

KM: You mentioned in our conversation last month that by trade you’re a graphic designer. Was there an artistic outlet for you in the professional realm, or was it too constricting?

SCHAPKER: I love graphic design, I find it very creative, and I’m sure I’ll continue my work as a designer, but in graphic design, I’m always communicating a message for someone else. I love that my art is my message, my creation, and my vision. No one else has to sign off.

KM: Do you find that your professional experience informs your work?

SCHAPKER: My training as a graphic designer has certainly improved my artwork. In both design and art I consider balance, focus, color, isolation, scale, complexity, empty space, and structure. And the Photoshop skills I’ve acquired as a graphic designer have been really useful in my artwork since I do quite a bit of collage and compositing of multiple images to create my final image.

KM: Why the Romaine Brooks Gallery?

SCHAPKER: I’ve known Alan Ilagan, the curator for Romaine Brooks for several years, and I’ve visited the Pride Center numerous times over the 11 years I’ve lived in Center Square. The Romaine Brooks gallery is always a stop for me when I check out Albany’s First Friday. So the gallery really was the first place I thought of when I wanted to do a solo show. From an artist’s standpoint, it’s a great space compared to other galleries because it is fairly small. One artist can fill the space and create a singular experience without the interference of competing artworks.

KM: What, more than anything, do you want people to know coming into the show? What do you want them to leave with?

SCHAPKER: I think art is a very personal thing. People connect to different artworks for different reasons. I know what inspired me to create the art, but that’s somewhat irrelevant to the viewer. If people seem to have some connection to the images, I’ll be really happy. I don’t care what that connection is. When I was creating these pieces I wanted to make something that was beautiful and positive and idealized. I wanted to create something that transcended the mundane. If that’s what other people see, then great. I guess I’ll know how people react on Friday.