Jenny Kendler
Jenny Kendler is an interdisciplinary artist, environmental activist, naturalist & wild forager based in Chicago, whose work has been exhibited in venues such as MCA Chicago, Albright-Knox, Pulitzer Arts Foundation, the California Academy of Sciences, the Chicago Biennial and the Kochi-Muziris Biennale. She has been commissioned to create public projects for locations as diverse as urban conservatories, deserts and tropical forests. Kendler holds an MFA from The School of the Art Institute of Chicago, and is Vice-President of artist residency ACRE. In 2014 she was named the first ever Artist-in-Residence with environmental non-profit NRDC.
J. Kendler. One Hour of Birds, digital prints, 2015-
Excerpt from interview with Giovanni Aloi in Antennae - The Journal of Nature in Visual Culture, March 2014
Who are your naturalist heroes and what do you think the role of the naturalist in today’s society may be?
My naturalist heroes include Rachel Carson, author of Silent Spring which was a catalyst of the environmental movement; E. O. Wilson, who developed the biophilia concept and has written extensively on biodiversity and evolutionary theory; Sir. David Attenborough, made famous in the US by the wonderful BBC nature programs he hosts; and Ed Abbey, who wrote the marvelous Desert Solitaire and whose last wish was to be driven in a bed of a pickup to be buried in and unmarked grave in the desert he loved — a wish his friends followed, despite it being illegal, and toasted him with beers at his grave.
A naturalist is distinct from a biologist in that the title is open to anyone, regardless of professional training. The key is love...and probably a healthy dose of obsession. But it’s not hard to become obsessed with the intricacy and variety of the natural world. In this way, I think the naturalist is important today as an ambassador between our ideas of Nature and Culture. In modern society, we think these are at two separate ends of a spectrum, and so we have the naturalist to help us traverse these realms, and perhaps re-knit them together. I think contemporary naturalists like philosopher David Abram, poet Diane Ackerman, forager Sam Thayer, nature writer David Quammen, and author Barbara Kingsolver do an admirable job of this — using their passion to connect people more deeply with the natural world — and to give voice to the peril we are brining upon the Earth and therefore ourselves.
In 2014 you were named artist-in-residence of the National Resources Defense Council, one of the most influential environmental groups in the States. How has the experience of working with them developed thus far? What have you learned about specific challenges involved in environmental preservation?
The experience of working with NRDC has been transformative and profound. It feels as though I have found my home — being an artist embedded in an activist, science-based organization — but still free to work like an artist works. NRDC has been truly remarkable, I think, in their sensitivity to the artistic process, and for this I have to give total credit to Elizabeth Corr, creator of the artist residency, who worked for a long time to make this program real. I’ve learned a lot from the people at NRDC, and hope that my role in the organization (which I have jokingly referred to as ‘institutional coyote’) helps to open up the way they conceive of their advocacy as well. So far, I think the experiment has proven to be a resounding success.
In relation to your involvement with the NRDC you said: “This is exactly where I want to position myself. As an artist embedded in a science-based, advocacy organization, this is a perfect fit, and I could not be more excited about the issues we will be exploring together”. Multidisciplinarity has become one of the recent imperative of art and academic alike. Although the premise is exciting, it also comes with complications. In your experience, what have been the most difficult challenges involved in working with scientists?
Yes, its certainly complicated and potentially fraught with problems — but of course, this is likely one of the things that draws us artists towards multidisciplinary projects, like moths to the flame. This is a challenge worth tangling with, as far as I’m concerned. I think de-siloing is going to be absolutely essential if we’re going to tackle the challenges of the coming century. In terms of actually working with and alongside scientists or other disparate disciplines, think the biggest hurdle is getting to the point where you can take the first step; getting people to believe that it will work. We faced a lot of doubters coming into this project: some thinking art would be too ‘silly’ to fit into a serious organization, and some thinking high-brow art might alienate people. Luckily, we have also had some folks who were tremendous champions of the residency from the beginning, and I’m pleased to say that we have heard quite a few personal accounts from people who didn’t think the cross-disciplinary angle would work, and are now championing the residency themselves.
The past year has been one of your busiest so far. Amongst other projects you had a show at the Peggy Notebaert Nature Museum, a Chicago institution aiming at enthusing people of all ages about the natural world. How important is to reach big and diverse audiences?
It’s deeply important to me to be inclusive in my artistic practice. The more people I can actually communicate with in a meaningful way, the more successful I see my work being. A rigorous intellectual practice is important, and personally fulfilling, to me and drives my creative process, but I don’t see any reason why one can’t work to build a model where inclusivity and generosity is a part of that type of practice.
I’ll be very blunt and say, I see little value in being intentionally (or even negligently) exclusive in one’s work, save to build up a product for market or stoke social egos, neither of which interest me. I’m very intentional in my forms and subject matter: to use beauty as a lure, to create work that people feel is ‘open’ to them. I may start with a bird or a flower — but then, I’m actually talking about some very difficult material: destabilizing human exceptionalism, extinction, conceptualizing other minds...all of which may entail some behavior changes people may not initially like, and I want people to be able to actually listen.
Also, I really believe in art, and in the power of art to change human culture. I feel in my practice, not only a struggle for ecological (and therefore economic) change, but also a struggle for art not to become synonymous in the public’s mind with luxury goods. That would be a tragedy. I think we can have art that connects with life, but still retains everything we love about art. Intelligent art doesn’t have to be ugly.
Who are your naturalist heroes and what do you think the role of the naturalist in today’s society may be?
My naturalist heroes include Rachel Carson, author of Silent Spring which was a catalyst of the environmental movement; E. O. Wilson, who developed the biophilia concept and has written extensively on biodiversity and evolutionary theory; Sir. David Attenborough, made famous in the US by the wonderful BBC nature programs he hosts; and Ed Abbey, who wrote the marvelous Desert Solitaire and whose last wish was to be driven in a bed of a pickup to be buried in and unmarked grave in the desert he loved — a wish his friends followed, despite it being illegal, and toasted him with beers at his grave.
A naturalist is distinct from a biologist in that the title is open to anyone, regardless of professional training. The key is love...and probably a healthy dose of obsession. But it’s not hard to become obsessed with the intricacy and variety of the natural world. In this way, I think the naturalist is important today as an ambassador between our ideas of Nature and Culture. In modern society, we think these are at two separate ends of a spectrum, and so we have the naturalist to help us traverse these realms, and perhaps re-knit them together. I think contemporary naturalists like philosopher David Abram, poet Diane Ackerman, forager Sam Thayer, nature writer David Quammen, and author Barbara Kingsolver do an admirable job of this — using their passion to connect people more deeply with the natural world — and to give voice to the peril we are brining upon the Earth and therefore ourselves.
In 2014 you were named artist-in-residence of the National Resources Defense Council, one of the most influential environmental groups in the States. How has the experience of working with them developed thus far? What have you learned about specific challenges involved in environmental preservation?
The experience of working with NRDC has been transformative and profound. It feels as though I have found my home — being an artist embedded in an activist, science-based organization — but still free to work like an artist works. NRDC has been truly remarkable, I think, in their sensitivity to the artistic process, and for this I have to give total credit to Elizabeth Corr, creator of the artist residency, who worked for a long time to make this program real. I’ve learned a lot from the people at NRDC, and hope that my role in the organization (which I have jokingly referred to as ‘institutional coyote’) helps to open up the way they conceive of their advocacy as well. So far, I think the experiment has proven to be a resounding success.
In relation to your involvement with the NRDC you said: “This is exactly where I want to position myself. As an artist embedded in a science-based, advocacy organization, this is a perfect fit, and I could not be more excited about the issues we will be exploring together”. Multidisciplinarity has become one of the recent imperative of art and academic alike. Although the premise is exciting, it also comes with complications. In your experience, what have been the most difficult challenges involved in working with scientists?
Yes, its certainly complicated and potentially fraught with problems — but of course, this is likely one of the things that draws us artists towards multidisciplinary projects, like moths to the flame. This is a challenge worth tangling with, as far as I’m concerned. I think de-siloing is going to be absolutely essential if we’re going to tackle the challenges of the coming century. In terms of actually working with and alongside scientists or other disparate disciplines, think the biggest hurdle is getting to the point where you can take the first step; getting people to believe that it will work. We faced a lot of doubters coming into this project: some thinking art would be too ‘silly’ to fit into a serious organization, and some thinking high-brow art might alienate people. Luckily, we have also had some folks who were tremendous champions of the residency from the beginning, and I’m pleased to say that we have heard quite a few personal accounts from people who didn’t think the cross-disciplinary angle would work, and are now championing the residency themselves.
The past year has been one of your busiest so far. Amongst other projects you had a show at the Peggy Notebaert Nature Museum, a Chicago institution aiming at enthusing people of all ages about the natural world. How important is to reach big and diverse audiences?
It’s deeply important to me to be inclusive in my artistic practice. The more people I can actually communicate with in a meaningful way, the more successful I see my work being. A rigorous intellectual practice is important, and personally fulfilling, to me and drives my creative process, but I don’t see any reason why one can’t work to build a model where inclusivity and generosity is a part of that type of practice.
I’ll be very blunt and say, I see little value in being intentionally (or even negligently) exclusive in one’s work, save to build up a product for market or stoke social egos, neither of which interest me. I’m very intentional in my forms and subject matter: to use beauty as a lure, to create work that people feel is ‘open’ to them. I may start with a bird or a flower — but then, I’m actually talking about some very difficult material: destabilizing human exceptionalism, extinction, conceptualizing other minds...all of which may entail some behavior changes people may not initially like, and I want people to be able to actually listen.
Also, I really believe in art, and in the power of art to change human culture. I feel in my practice, not only a struggle for ecological (and therefore economic) change, but also a struggle for art not to become synonymous in the public’s mind with luxury goods. That would be a tragedy. I think we can have art that connects with life, but still retains everything we love about art. Intelligent art doesn’t have to be ugly.