American Scientist

At first glance, Stéphanie Kilgast’s artworks are a riot of natural forms and bright colors, but a closer look reveals unwanted trash, environmental pollution, or urban decay. Her series Discarded Objects is a purposeful look at “the beauty of nature in a dialogue with humanity, questioning the lost balance between human activities and nature.” Kilgast’s sculptures, paintings, and murals have appeared in exhibitions worldwide, challenging viewers to examine their environmental awareness. She spoke to American Scientist editor-in-chief Fenella Saunders about the motivations behind her artwork.

When did you start incorporating environmental themes into your art?

When I started my career, I would make miniature food for dollhouse collectors, and I had a miniature-food sculpting business. But in 2015, my personal life changed quite a bit. I stopped eating meat for environmental reasons, which pushed me into a huge lifestyle change in general, trying to consume less. Since that shift was rather big, I wanted to express it in my artwork.

Up until then, I felt that my work lacked meaning. I never really considered my work to be artistic, properly. So in 2015, I decided to sculpt one different miniature vegetable or fruit every day, just to show the sheer variety of comestible plants. That is what I consider to be my first proper artwork, because it was so full of meaning and was very personal.

Art is visceral, which means putting yourself into it all the time. That’s why it’s hard as an artist to do artwork that is meaningful and honest. I know I struggle with it, and I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one. It always depends on what type of artwork you do, but I feel like artists usually are very sensitive and idealistic and want to change the world, but we still live in it. Any artists who are honest in their artwork are going to struggle all their lives, especially if they criticize society.

You have discussed feeling despair about the state of the world, particularly the environment. What set you into this mode, and how are you expressing it in your art?

In about 2013, I learned how bad meat production is for the environment. I started to look into it, and once the door was open in that direction, I started to learn more and more. And then I found a way to talk about it in my sculptures.

Now it’s more or less accepted that meat production is bad for the environment. I don’t think that’s such a scoop anymore. But until you open the door, it’s really difficult to accept it.

What inspired you to start incorporating found objects and even trash into your sculptures?

I’m a strong believer in the power of the subconscious. I see it in my day-to-day life as an artist. I work on something, and I get an idea. If it’s a good idea I keep working on it, and it becomes a better idea.

When I started sculpting, I focused on the concept of growth because I wanted to grow as an artist—it was very literal. At some point, I started to think that it would be interesting to put that growth onto objects, and when I started, it just worked.

I live near a charity shop, and they often have plastic stuff. I tend to find things there. Usually the object appeals to me because it’s kitschy, or I don’t know what anyone would want to do with that kind of object in the first place. And sometimes I see right away something happening. But often I have to leave it at my studio for a while until I know what to do with it.

As for the trash, it depends. The tin cans are such a neutral base that I just go with the flow. Sometimes I want to go more abstract, and I’m just focused on colors. But sometimes I want to do a specific animal. I like tin cans because it’s clear what they are. It’s trash. It’s my own trash. And it speaks to people because it’s trash, and they know it’s not just an object.

I made a polar bear sculpture on an empty white acrylic bottle that I had around the studio, because at some point it reminded me of snow and ice. I also have other bottles and things that are less neutral. I need to know what I’m going to do with them before I start, which takes time. I go back and forth between the color and the shape and what I can do with it.

Your sculptures often include corals and mushrooms, or other plants and animals that spread as they grow. Why do you use those organisms as a motif, and when do you decide to include other animals?

At the core I’m interested in the small things in nature. I love to look at details, so trees are nice, but I prefer to see the lichen on the trees. The closer you get to nature, the more beautiful it becomes. It’s geometric, it’s extremely precise, and there are so many details.

Humans are mammals, so we tend to focus more on mammals—which is OK, but I think insects are more interesting and more important in the grand scheme of things. And so sometimes I want to trick people, to lure them in with mammals, because I know people react strongly to them. But then I want to show people the little things to make them realize how crucial it is to care for other animals and plants as well.

What kind of research do you do as background for your work?

I’ve always watched documentaries about nature in general, but I have started to read a lot of books about natural history. In my artwork I’m not attempting to, for instance, show any particular species of mushroom or kind of coral; that’s an artistic decision. Because I worked in hyperrealism for so long [when making the miniature food], it’s just not fun to be too close to reality. I want to have some freedom.

I also think that it’s important to see nature as a whole, rather than to focus on one specific species. When I work on animals, I always choose ones that are endangered. But I’m more interested in the group as a symbol for all species. We tend to focus on the conservation of specific animals, but what we really need to do is change our lifestyle. So conservation is nice, but it’s just a bandage.

For me, my art is a representation of nature. That’s also why I don’t like to use natural colors. It’s my vision, or possible vision, of nature.

Colors make me happy. Without them, I’d be in a dark place. I need colors just to stay sane. But I also think that the theme I’m working on, which is basically nature dying out because of us, is really heavy. It’s a complicated topic; it’s not a fun one, but it’s such a crucial topic that you cannot just be desperate about it. I feel like when I add colors to my work, it’s like giving hope to people to keep fighting. The color is for me, but it’s for the viewer as well.

I feel like when I add colors to my work, it’s like giving hope to people to keep fighting.

• Facebook
• Twitter

Your work has been described as a “cheerful post-apocalypse” because you have this theme of nature taking over and growing back to cover these discarded objects. What do you think of that characterization of your art?

I find it reassuring, to be honest. I don’t have much hope left. My personal despair is that our society is going to collapse. Because I feel like those in power are not going to be brave enough to change our way of living fast enough. But I’m not sure that’s such a bad thing in the end.

I mean, sure, it drives me mad, and I don’t want to go down that road. But nature has an ability to keep on going and growing. And I find that feeling reassuring. It’s like when you’re in a city, and you see plants growing on a building, and you think, “Yes! Go! Stay here. You can do it.” Every time I see nature growing back where we have built something, I’m like, “You can do this!”

I know I’m part of the environmental problem, but it honestly drives me insane sometimes. I find it super frustrating, because there are way to turn things around, but those with the means to do so will not accept the bigger picture. This inaction is killing so many other species. I find that really difficult to accept. That’s why the message of my art is really dark, I feel, so I have to add colors.

Whom do you think your art is for? Who is the audience that your art is reaching?

I don’t have a target audience, so to speak, that I would like to touch with my artwork, but I think people who already have some kind of environmental conscience are more touched by it. And so I hope it pushes them to start acting to change their lifestyle and their habits.

You have to offer your work to the world, but then the world is going to decide if it wants it or not. I tend to do art that is meaningful, that is clear and accessible. But at the same time, I want to do art that is powerful and interesting in the art world.

If there’s something I hope that people start to do if they are touched by my work, it’s just to consume less. I feel like that’s easy, even if you don’t feel empowered to influence systemic, societal change. You don’t have to stop buying clothes or whatever. Just consume less of everything. If everyone would focus on the more essential things in life, people would be happier, and the environment would be healthier. I know it’s very anti-society, but we really are at the end of it. So if we could do it nicely and not just crash into the wall, we might change naturally. But if it’s the wall, then it’s the wall.