WAYS OF SEEING: AN INTERVIEW WITH BRUCE NAUMAN, 1995
Bruce Nauman: Yeah, several times. Somewhere in the early or middle '70s, I had a really serious one - the first one I'd ever really had. It was pretty scary, because you start thinking, "Well, now what am I going to do? I'll have to get a job." It lasted maybe six months. When I started working (again), the work didn't really change much from the work I did before. I still have kind of long ones from time to time.
TO: Did putting together your retrospective make you go back in time and think about all of the stuff that you hadn't really had to think about in a long time?
BN: I guess so. I'm not sure why, because some of the work I couldn't really relate to anymore at all. I couldn't even figure out why I did it or put myself in that kind of situation in any way; and other work was kind of interesting to look at because the thoughts appear in the work continually.
TO: What pieces did you have no connection with?
BN: I think the early fiberglass pieces and the rubber pieces. I could kind of remember why I did them and what I what thinking about, but it's not work that interests me anymore. In fact, I told them if they're going to put it in the show, then they're totally responsible for figuring it out, because I can't.
TO: What does it feel like to have this huge block of stuff, which is somehow representing you personally, out there moving around?
BN: After a time, you train yourself that once the work is out of the studio, it's up to somebody else how it gets shown and where it gets shown. You can't spend all your time being responsible for how the work goes out in the world, so you do have to let go. What happens is that it starts to become overbearing and I catch myself getting frustrated and angry about the situation. Then I see that it's taken over, and then I can let go.
TO: You mentioned anger. I've been doing a lot of work with various ways that people relate to emotions and trying to put that in the work as a kind of barometer, which is something I've always found interesting in your work. Is a lot of it motivated by emotional states that you get in?
BN: I think so, although I'm always puzzled by this myself - trying to figure out where work comes from, what gets you to go and try and do work, what gets you in the studio. Roy Lichtenstein, when he first started doing comic-book paintings, said he didn't know what else to do. I just have to do something, so I do something and it might be really stupid, but I just can't think of anything else to do. Sometimes it even gets put aside because it's such a stupid idea, but oftentimes when I go back to it, it has a lot of power because it was created totally out of the need to make something.
TO: And then sometimes other works of yours seem very methodical.
BN: Yeah, I think I have to have work that is really justifiable and has reasons. I suppose that's the stuff that appears to be more methodical. Then you get caught up in that too much, then you think, "Gee, this is so self-important and so serious." You need to be able to be stupid and make mistakes, too.
TO: Speaking of being stupid, do you watch television at all?
BN: Not a huge amount. (My wife) Susan (Rothenberg) likes to watch "Seinfeld" because it's her connection to New York. So that works. But if I watch it too often I get really annoyed with it. I used to like to watch baseball, but we don't have baseball anymore. But I like to lie on the couch on Saturday or Sunday afternoon and fall asleep in front of some sort of ball game. It doesn't seem to matter if it was baseball or football or whatever, I could always fall asleep. It was kind of nice.
TO: I was wondering: If you were, say, 25, a woman, and just got out of art school, what kind of work would you be making?
BN: I don't see why I wouldn't be doing the work I'm doing now. I remember saying many years ago to a friend that I wish I had spent more time hiking in the mountains when I was younger. Like I said, "When I was 18, I should have been doing that stuff." He said, "Well, what the fuck are you talking about? Why can't you do that now? It's just a stupid thing - of course I can do that now. So I did. Maybe if you're not a well-known artist, if you don't have the opportunity to show work, you might not do certain kinds of work. I've always felt that I've worked with whatever money's been available and whatever equipment's been available. You just do the work. Using those things as an excuse, like "I haven't got the money or the equipment or the room," are bad excuses for not doing work.
TO: You've always been attracted to using new technologies.
BN: When I did the holograms, that was probably the most advanced I've ever gotten in terms of new technology. In general, I think I just use stuff that's there. Sometimes you push a little bit, but not too much. It gets too expensive or too hard to find, then it's just not interesting. But I was interested in having an object but not having an object, the 3-D stuff. It's not gotten any easier for anyone to do that sort of work since that time.
TO: I have a really off question: Do you have any beliefs or experiences with UFOs?
BN: I've never had any experience. But there are people here (in New Mexico) who believe in them and think that they have a landing place where they actually go into the mountain. I've always been kind of curious about how I'd react if confronted with a being of some sort - if I'd be scared shitless or curious. I'm just waiting to see, I guess.
*Originally published as "Ways of Seeing: The Warped Vision of Bruce Nauman," in Paper (April, 1995)
