I am at the mercy of my creative impulse.
Introduction
Bees. Synonymous with the submissive industry of the hive in which every individual works unquestioningly for the whole. A community of many roles and one intention – to survive. We may understand bees as pollinators and honey producers, but the former, however essential to the rest of nature, is a by-product of the nectar gathering necessary to create food for the hive: the honey we then sequester, requiring them to work all the more diligently. In this way, while the mind of the hive may be focused inwards, it is entangled in an evolutionary quid pro quo that binds together all living things. But what happens when that balance is disturbed – when the orthodox mind of the hive no longer meets the demands of the present? How might bees adapt in response?
It is this hypothetical question that the artist Stephen Danzig addresses in an extensive and ongoing series in which he imagines an anthropomorphic metamorphosis in which bees not only evolve to humanoid form but behave with all the perverse complexity of humankind. Stylish and expressionistic, his creations populate a mirror world, a reflection upon our globalised community connected and increasingly shaped in the digital hivemind of social media. A penumbral place where, in the shadow of anonymity, darkness thrives as much as light. A place in which the paradoxical concomitants of human nature – love and hate, pain and pleasure, beauty and ugliness – do not just coexist but feed on each other… voraciously.
In creating these latter-day fables, the artist employs a sophisticated range of photographic, digital, and generative tools. An early adopter of digital media he quickly recognised the enormous potential of these rapidly evolving image-making tools. Processes which, like those in nature, evolve through synthesis – the building of complex new entities from simpler pre-existing ones. But, more than his expertise with technology, it is the boldly idiosyncratic nature of Stephen Danzig’s visual creativity that marks it out. He goes where others may fear to tread… beyond the hivemind.
Alasdair Foster
Interview
How would describe your approach to photomedia?
I create hybrid images using multiple processes including through-the-lens foundations and digital found objects to create complex visual narratives. I further edit my work employing a diverse array of tools that may include generative coding and AI and may sometimes create sculptural and textural elements that are either photographed or scanned into the work platform to be integrated into the image.
You were an early adopter of the digital arts. What drew you to their potential?
In the early 1990s, a colleague and I were commissioned to create some touchscreen animations for the Malaysian National Science Centre. It began my journey to try to comprehend the potential of this emerging technology. By the turn of the century, I had fully immersed myself in digital photomedia production, establishing International Digital Art (IDA). Between 2000 to 2015, this project brought together artists from around the globe for curated exhibitions – online and physical – creating important institutional and academic partnerships with organisations such as Beijing Film Academy [China], DAM Projects [Germany], Platform China in Beijing’s 798 Art Zone, Queensland University of Technology [Australia], Rhizome [USA], Yokohama Art Project [Japan], ZKM [Germany], and ZoneZero [Mexico]. These emerging technologies in art were new, exciting, energetic… But, while in 2003 the IDA website received twenty million unique visitors, at the time most institutions would not touch digital art. It’s been a difficult and frustrating journey but here we are in 2024: bona fide.
How did your early series ‘Unearthly Delights’ come about?
In 2003, I had the pleasure of meeting Pedro Meyer from ZoneZero who introduced me to Joel-Peter Witkin and his extraordinary oeuvre. For me, discovering Witkin’s imagery was truly a transformative experience. It not only changed the way I approached image creation but also challenged me to delve into the darker aspects of the human condition. Interestingly, during our conversations, Witkin was sceptical about the value of digital art, yet we connected in terms of visual narrative.
Around the same time, I was engrossed in the writings of Marquis de Sade, interpreting his stories through the lens of religion and sexual metaphor, as well as my own experiences of childhood abuse and subsequent exploration of fetish behaviours as an adult. These themes provided fruitful ground for my discussions with Witkin, from which grew the darker, more complex narratives around trauma and self-preservation I explored in ‘Unearthly Delights’.
This series ultimately emerged as a response to reading Thomas Moore’s ‘Dark Eros: The Imagination of Sadism’ [1940]. This book reimagines the repulsive fictions of Sade, seeking to uncover the horrors lurking deep within the human soul. It also sheds light on the presence of sadomasochism in facets of our everyday lives, often concealed from plain sight. In making ‘Unearthly Delights’, I focused on the aspects of Sadean nature hidden from wider society. The taboo nature of BDSM and fetish subcultures can result in the marginalisation of individuals who openly identify as part of these communities. They may face discrimination and prejudice, creating barriers to their freedom of expression and their ability to engage in consensual activities without fear of stigma. I certainly experienced this kind of societal judgement and brought that to the fore in this work. It was a fascinating introspection.
The images have an art-historical resonance, like etchings. What processes did you employ to create them?
The characters were shot in the studio on a digital medium-format camera. Texture layers were not only hand drawn, painted, and scanned but models were also covered head to toe in plaster and other materials. All the elements – including sculptural objects sourced from local foundries and landscapes shot on location – were digitised and then stitched together in Photoshop.
In your later series, ‘Heaven and Hell’ your focus shifts to the paradoxes of religion. I was particularly drawn to this triptych [above].
The Garden of Eden, as perceived through the lens of Judeo-Christian tradition, assumes the existence of a divine planner whose apparent intention was to subject humanity to a predetermined scheme, thereby reducing their significance to that of mere objects. In this cruel and paradoxical experiment, humans are initially brought into being in a state of affliction and subsequently commanded to achieve a state of wellbeing… of perfection. This experiment is administered by a celestial autocracy characterised by its insatiable greed and demanding disposition. It yearns incessantly for unexamined adulation while proving swift to exact retribution for the original sins with which it has endowed us intrinsically.
Conversely, ‘Heaven and Hell’ – which arose from a dialogue with the British writer and religious activist Christopher Hitchens – offers a counterpoint to prevailing conceptions of the Edenic complex. This image depicts two figures of African descent, their backs turned towards the viewer symbolising their denial of doctrine. The central object represents Eden embodied in memento mori – objects suggesting the passage of time – which are intricately entangled in vines (or perhaps it is barbed wire)… The image suggests a celestial remembrance while challenging the conventional narrative.
In what way?
Traditional Christian imagery representing notions of Heaven and Hell most often depict God as white, pure, holy, and forward-facing, while the devil is portrayed as black, evil, and facing backward. This promotes the idea that certain races are inherently good while others are evil, perpetuating systemic racism within the creation narrative. In my image I wanted to propose a counterpoint to the conventional way of portraying Adam and Eve.
[Left] © Stephen Danzig ‘The Queen Signal’ 2023 from the series ‘Keepers’
[Centre] © Stephen Danzig ‘Shadow Manifestations’ 2022 from the series ‘Keepers’
[Right] © Stephen Danzig ‘Imperial Vassals’ 2023 from the series ‘Keepers’
You have spoken about the way you draw on your various roles in life when conceiving your work. One such is as political activist. Can you tell me about this?
This is a somewhat contentious question. The obvious example for me right now would be the ‘Keepers’. The preamble would refer to the sixteenth-century painting ‘Apocalyptic Vision’ attributed to an anonymous follower of Hieronymus Bosch, which I recently had the pleasure of experiencing at the Doge’s Palace in Venice. The ‘Keepers’ series shares with it a common dystopian thread. Both narratives suggest a bleak portrayal of a world where political, social, or environmental circumstances have deteriorated, to the detriment of humanity. In the sixteenth-century painting, themes surrounding the fall of humankind into sin and lust, culminate in their fate in Hell. My own concerns are more this-world and immediate.
Can you give an example?
A recent event in Australia exemplifies just such a dystopian reality. A severe threat to our bee population emerged with the infestation of the varroa mite [a pernicious parasite of honeybees]. In response, the Australian government adopted the draconian measure of eliminating eighty per cent of the affected commercial bee population, with little consideration for the wider environmental implications. This approach starkly contrasts with my personal ethos which emphasises the protection and management of our hives with minimal impact and interference on the bees, whilst employing environmental strategies that allow nature to self-manage.
[Left] © Stephen Danzig ‘Absconding’ 2022 from the series ‘Keepers’
[Centre] © Stephen Danzig ‘The Warnings’ 2024 from the series ‘Keepers’
[Right] © Stephen Danzig ‘Redemption’ 2024 from the series ‘Keepers’
I am an apiarist, husband, father, environmentalist, secular humanist. For me, my everyday decisions add to the legacy I pass on. The ‘Keepers’ presents this recent infestation event metaphorically, as though it were a declaration of war against the pollinators whose presence is crucial for sustaining life. The bees, in their struggle to adapt and respond to human interference, have seemingly expanded their consciousness, giving rise to a nightmarish epilogue that speculates on the fall of humanity and the destruction of the natural environment. In this disastrous scenario I want to evoke a sense of chaos; a poignant reminder that everything is at risk while humans remain in conflict with the natural world.
‘Keepers’ is extensive, much more so that your earlier series. Why is this do you think?
I am at the mercy of my creative impulse. In the past, it is true, I tended to work on smaller series of five or ten images. To be honest, I’m not sure why that was. Perhaps it’s my curatorial mind that likes to compartmentalise things. ‘Keepers’ is an extensive narrative that has given me, maybe for the first time, more clarity about how I approach making and thinking about art. Previously, I’ve taken a fairly rigid intellectual view of my creative production, but this series holds me within its strange world. A world where I feel exposed and vulnerable… where I feel so personally invested in the work.
I’ve pushed to extend my thoughts and ‘conversations’ – intimately and directly – with the bees, speculating what their position on human beings might be. It has been a two-year journey so far, with hundreds of images created. To be honest, I see it as a living document without end or resolution: an extensive and continuing examination of humankind though the metaphor of the hive.
[Left] © Stephen Danzig ‘Young Queens’ 2023 from the series ‘Keepers’
[Centre] © Stephen Danzig ‘Underworld’ 2023 from the series ‘Keepers’
[Right] © Stephen Danzig ‘Twins’ 2023 from the series ‘Keepers’
How do you use Artificial Intelligence (AI) in this work?
When it comes to using AI as a toolset for making art, it can be seen as a collaborative process between the artist and the AI. In this scenario, I’ll utilise AI algorithms and digital editing tools to enhance my creative process, explore new possibilities to generate unique visual ideas. Just like a photographer working in collage, who may take several rolls of film as source material to manipulate further.
On the other hand, clicking a button and allowing AI to autonomously create imagery is more akin to handing over the entire creative process to the machine. I don’t care for this approach as it has no intrinsic meaning for me or for the viewer. While AI can produce interesting and sometimes surprising results, it lacks the intentionality, meaning, and emotional depth that an artist brings to their work.
I am interested in the way in which you also take concepts and hybridise them. Your work seems not so much to argue for the preservation of things as the evolving of fluid new forms. These are often expressed through the tropes of sexuality and gender, where these tropes are used to explore much wider ideas of social justice and ecological sustainability in a refreshingly new light.
I emphasise sexuality and gender tropes to challenge traditional power structures. By presenting these tropes in surprising ways, I hope to encourage viewers to consider, to question, their own established norms. Through this approach I want to explore wider ideas of social justice and to advocate for a more inclusive and equitable society.
A fundamental tenet of my artistic practice is the freedom to articulate subtle creative nuances as a way of advocating for novel gender languages and expressions. For me, that freedom depends upon the depoliticisation of gender discourse in art. (Gender discourse, in the sense I am meaning here, is an interdisciplinary academic field that critically examines social, cultural, and historical constructions and experiences of gender that, to my mind, appears to have created an increasing divide within ideas of cultural inclusiveness and social justice.) I hope one can see this depoliticised approach throughout the ‘Keepers’ series. It imagines a complex space in which – through notions of fetish, artifice, community – I seek a deeper reflection upon our psychosexual nature and the idioms of self.
[Left] © Stephen Danzig ‘ReGen 3’ 2024 from the series ‘ReGen’
[Right] © Stephen Danzig ‘ReGen 2’ 2024 from the series ‘ReGen’
Your most recent work is called ‘ReGen’. These are extravagant biomorphic forms with a certain darkly, even dangerously, seductive quality. Where is this regeneration leading?
In this series my focus has shifted towards a tangible expression of ecology and biology, with a particular emphasis on the field of genomic editing. I am intrigued by the concept of genetic modification as a means of optimising plant-based systems for the efficient production of human proteins; a process achieved through the fusion of genetic material from both plants and humans.
The ‘ReGen’ series delves into hypothetical scenarios and proposals that lie at the intersection of science, ethics, and the fundamental ability for human beings to continue existing. It is fuelled by ongoing conversations with my close circle of scientifically inclined acquaintances and my own background in generative art programming.
While embracing certain creative and ethical liberties, these images seek to conceive entirely new forms of life, proposing an alternative to current biological protocols. There is an ambivalence to these images, which can be perceived either as manifestations of newfound optimism in the realm of biological evolution or as foreboding precursors to a dystopian future. For me, they have a profoundly poetic quality. I love making them…
[Left] © Stephen Danzig ‘ReGen 4’ 2023 from the series ‘ReGen’
[Right] © Stephen Danzig ‘ReGen 1’ 2023 from the series ‘ReGen’
You have spoken about the importance of memory and of legacy. How do these concepts play out in your art practice?
Art has the power to preserve and convey historical events, cultural traditions, and societal narratives. My own history of artmaking extends over more than four decades of travelling the world and trying to make sense of it. I worked in China from 2003 to 2012, which profoundly influenced my cultural perceptions, and similarly for the nine years I lived in London and travelled throughout Europe engaging its history. The people I met along the way have played a critical role in forming my moral, creative, social, and political identity.
In this sense, Art has the power to shape collective memory and influence how the past is remembered. Through visual representation, performance, and storytelling, artists can challenge dominant narratives, shed light on marginalised voices, and reframe historical events. When I look at my art, I can see embedded within the work every person I’ve ever met, every conversation, every experience shared…
What, through your artmaking, have you learned about yourself that you did not previously understand?
I know what I don’t know and conquering the world seems less important. I’m learning not to apologise for the way I think and this provides for more productive risk taking.
I am perfectly fallible and also quite happy to say no.
Biographical Notes
Stephen Danzig was born in Geelong, Australia, in 1960. He received a bachelor’s degree in visual arts from Deakin University in 1980. From 2000 to 2015 he was the director of IDAprojects and, from 2015 to 2018, an adjunct professor at Queensland University of Technology, Brisbane. In 2008, he was a member of the board of the Beijing Film Academy New Media Art Triennial and, in the same year, New Media Creative Advisor for the Beijing Olympic Opening Ceremony. In 2012, he was an advisor on the Digital Arts Public Program for the Olympic Games in London. In 2010, he received the Australian High Commission London Award for Cultural Contribution.
Stephen Danzig’s artworks have featured in six solo and ten collaborative and group exhibitions in Australia, Austria, China, Italy, Japan, and the United Kingdom. He has also curated a dozen projects in Asia and Europe. His work is held in a number of public and private collections including Artbank (Sydney), the Museum of Contemporary Art (New York), and the University of Technology Art Museum (Brisbane). His book, ‘Sans Faute’ (without fail) was published by IDAprojects in 2013 and ‘Vernacular Terrain’ was published by Queensland University of Technology and IDAprojects in 2007. He lives and works in Brisbane, Australia.
This interview is a Talking Pictures original.