[ saw buzzing ]

DAVID ALTMEJD: I don't need to make sketches
of the sculptures I make

because I don't think
that there's a lot of difference

Between putting ink
on a piece of paper

and gluing little pieces
of crystal

on plexiglas in space.

I don't do drawings,

because I have other materials
that I find interesting.

95% of the relationship
I have to my work

is through process.

It's not as a distant object.
It's a made object.

I like the idea
of trusting the work,

trusting the material,
and trusting

that every little step
is gonna dictate the next one.

I have to give it a structure.
That's on me.

But then at a certain point,

the material behaves
in such unpredictable ways

that I find beautiful.

[ sighs ]

I'm interested in science

the same way I'm interested
in art,

with a sort of childlike
fascination.

I realized very early
in my studies in science

that I wasn't interested
in learning a language.

I was really interested
in inventing languages.

I figured out that art would be
the perfect place for me

because what's encouraged
is the invention of languages.

Even when I was a kid
and was making drawing,

what I found fascinating
is that I was able

to make whatever I want
exist in this world

and have people react to it.

I've always felt different,
I mean, for many reasons.

My father comes
from eastern Europe,

I'm Jewish, and I'm gay.

But when you're young
and you realize

that you have an ease
at something

or a talent for something,

it gives you confidence.

It's minty.
It smells like mint.

It's true, because they use–
that's what they use

at the dentist to take
the imprint of your–

It's not toxic, you know?

[ exhales ]

When I make a sculpture,
I deal with the material first.

Then I try to inject
my sensibility in it.

I try to give a certain flavor
to the sculpture.

That's how I make color choices,
for example.

I see the importance
of the choice of colors

as changing everything
inside the sculpture.

I'm extremely attracted
to pastel colors,

but they have to be
dirty in some way.

I like the combination
of lavender and pink

and maybe mint green,

but then there has to be

some kind of dirty brown
green in it...

Just to kind of infect
the prettiness.

Then I feel like I've found
exactly the right balance.

I don't want the sculpture
that I make

to be a mere illustration.

I try to build an object

that's gonna become complex
enough, have enough layers,

have enough references
and energy

to start feeling
like it's alive...

That it's developing
the capacity

of generating its own meaning.

And then I can look at it
from a distance

and learn from it,

because I can almost see it say
or hear it say

things that I never thought.

These are meant
to resemble bees.

Actually, in that piece,

what I'm gonna try
to be doing is

accumulate a lot
of small elements

that are sort of referential,
figurative elements–

bees, insects, needles–

and accumulate them to the point

where that swarm
that I'm going to create

is going to become
a sort of abstract shape.

So I want to start

by figurative, recognizable,
small, detailed elements

and combine them to make
something that becomes abstract.

Very often,
it's the other way around.

The more you zoom in,
the more abstract it becomes.

In that case, I want to start
with a large abstract shape,

and when you zoom in,

you actually start recognizing
things more and more.

[train rumbling on tracks]

[ saw buzzing ]

[ saw buzzing ]

When I make sculpture,
what I'm trying to do is

make an object that's going
to feel like it's alive.

I'm not interested
in re-presenting life.

I'm more interested
in making objects

that sort of function
like living things,

so they'll feel
like they're alive.

When I put my hands on it
or when I make holes in it

and drag plaster
through that hole,

it's really to inject
an energy in it.

So I kind of like that contrast

between the fact
that a hole through the chest

might be interpreted
as meaning death,

but in my mind,
it's actually the opposite

it should not even,
like, be flush.

it should be lower,

Because, if you can imagine,

if I put plaster on it
and it's flush with the surface,

then I–that means there will be
such a thin layer of plaster

that, like, just that
is gonna make it crack.

- Yeah.

- Take it down, like,
at least 1/8 inch.

- All right.
- Right?

- Yeah.
- Thanks.

[ scraping sounds ]

[scraping sounds]

This one is part of a series
that I started a year ago

called "The Watchers."

[ saw buzzing ]

"The Watchers" are some kind
of angel figures.

they're not necessarily
winged figure,

like the cliche of the angel,

but the ears have something
a little bit winglike.

[ saw buzzing ]

I'm also interested
in openings, orifices.

a body that would be filled
with orifices

that usually have the purpose
of hearing sound

was interesting as well.

The idea of senses.

Sometimes their bodies
are covered in hands;

that's the idea of the touch.

And if they're covered in ears,

I like the idea that they're–

become like a body that would be
ultrasensitive with sound.

[sighs]

I think faster than I can speak.

My brain is not the best when it
comes to verbal language.

but it seems like
I'm very comfortable

using matter and placing things.

It feels like my brain
is totally in sync.

Sometimes I feel like
there's brains in my hands.

"The Vessel," there's something
almost religious about it,

and it's really making a very
strong reference to the body

in its symmetrical shape.

The way it's radiating feels
almost Catholic in some way.

I can see it going
in that direction,

the idea of a center of energy

and radiation of that energy
and the body,

something that wasn't
as clear before in my work.

Because of the fact
that it's not symmetrical,

I feel like the swarm
becomes more like a landscape

and less like a body.

That shape floating in space
is very soft.

That almost looks like
a cloud somehow.

But they're, at the same time,
aggressive.

Every element in that swarm
has the potential to sting you.

I found that combination

of the softness
of that abstract cloud shape

and that aggressive potential
to be really nice, that balance.

The vessel and the swarm
are big enough

to be considered
like laboratories

inside of which I try things,
I combine materials in new ways,

I make mistakes,
I come up with new ideas.

The work has developed
enough complexity and layers

and intelligence
and independence

that it's able to generate
itself and transform itself.

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