.aesthetic talk
Brian Singer
Uncomfortable Realities
written Jonathan Bergstróm
Best known for his thought-provoking work, Brian Singer, also known as Someguy, is a multimedia artist who challenges conventional perceptions of objects and cultural symbols. Singer’s work often delves into the complexities of human connection, communication, and societal dynamics.
Some of his more highlighted work, like The 1000 Journals Project and the TWIT Spotting (Texting While In Traffic), catapulted Singer into the limelight. The 1000 Journals Project was an experiment that involved sending 1000 blank journals into the world so people could find them, contribute to them, and then pass them along. The project not only garnered widespread attention, including an exhibition at SFMOMA, but also demonstrated Singer's passion for encouraging people to engage with art firsthand
Singer’s preference for public, unexpected art installations, such as addressing homelessness in San Francisco, reaches audiences beyond traditional gallery settings in the hopes of fostering action on any number of the societal issues under examination in his work.
In his upcoming exhibition, Everything you say can and will be used against you, Singer deconstructs and reassembles recognizable and culturally-charged objects, unveiling fresh perspectives that confront, address, and reframe some of the most pressing social challenges of our era. The exhibition is on view at the Torrance Art Museum in California from January 20 through March 2, 2024.
In this interview, we chat with Singer about his creative process, the inspiration behind his latest exhibition, and the role of art in shaping societal narratives.
“Growing up, whenever I complained about something, my mother would respond with, “No one ever said life was fair,” which fed this voice in my head that replied, “Well, it should be.” So when people get screwed over or politicians lie for their own gain, it doesn’t sit well. ”
Jonathan Bergstróm
I know that growing up with your mother who was interned during WWII is something that informs your awareness of injustice. Are there any other significant moments or events in particular that sparked your interest in politics and social justice?
Brian Singer
I don’t think there was any single moment or series of events for me. Instead, it happened more cumulatively throughout my life. Growing up, whenever I complained about something, my mother would respond with, “No one ever said life was fair,” which fed this voice in my head that replied, “Well, it should be.” So when people get screwed over or politicians lie for their own gain, it doesn’t sit well. Unfortunately, given the frequency of injustice in this country (and beyond), it’s easy to get overwhelmed and tune everything out. I have to pick and choose which topics I create work about and when because the injustices are literally never-ending.
You’re an artist, a writer and also a successful graphic designer. On a creative level, how has it been switching between those different roles?
Well, I’m not sure I’d call myself a writer (that might be an insult to actual writers). But I use language and wordplay, and I think there’s a strong visual connection between my design practice and artistic pursuits. However, there’s definitely a mental switch when designing something for a company versus making art. With the former, there’s a business objective, a brand voice to speak in, and too many cooks in the kitchen. When I’m creating art, it’s more about the purity of the concept, and at least all the cooks are inside my head. But except for writing (which I find the most difficult of the three, as I’m scrutinizing my responses here), I feel like I move seamlessly between being an artist and designer; it just boils down to what I’m trying to communicate and to whom.
You have an upcoming exhibition, titled Everything you say can and will be used against you, at the Torrance Art Museum from January 20, 2024 - March 2, 2024. Can you tell us more about the thesis behind this show?
The works in this show are really about our behavior as a country. We seem to have this idealistic notion of what America is: home of the free, amber waves of grain, and so forth. But we’re afraid of, or perhaps unwilling to, be honest about how we treat each other and the society we’ve created. So, most of the work in the show tries to shed some light on these uncomfortable realities.
For example, in the piece Progress, I use window glass collected off the street from car break-ins and place it into crystal champagne flutes. This combination is intended to highlight the continually growing gap between the haves and the have-nots. How do the rich keep getting richer, and the poor keep getting poorer? A better question is, why do we keep allowing it?
The exhibition’s title is derived from the Miranda rights and explores the ideas of privacy and the rise in mob justice. The way we tear each other down, all the time, over everything, seemed like an excellent thematic umbrella under which the other works fit.
This is your fifth solo exhibition. Has the way you display your art changed over the years? How so?
It really depends on the concept and space available. While I love having work in a museum or gallery setting with big white walls and plenty of breathing room to take in the art, it can also be limiting. Partially because how often do I get a museum show? But also because the people who visit these spaces aren’t always the people I’d like to reach.
In San Francisco, the city put up a bunch of metal barricades in places to discourage the unhoused from sleeping there. This basically just moves them a block over, hiding the issue rather than solving it. In response, I purchased sleeping bags with a camouflage pattern and draped them over the barricades in locations throughout the city. On the sleeping bags, I painted the words “Home Street Home” to look like cross stitching and left a note that if you needed a sleeping bag, to take this one, it’s for you. So I’m a big fan of art that takes place in public in unexpected ways and even begs the question, is it art?
This exhibition also features some of the work from your flag series, where you disassemble flags and weave them onto different objects. What made you decide to use flags as a symbol?
Flags are complex objects in that they mean many different things to many different people. This brings a wonderful variety of perspectives and meanings into each piece, as each viewer has their own relationship with the flag. They’re also a simple graphic representation of a complicated thing: an entire country. So, the history, people, reputation, and ideals are all rolled up into this symbol.
Deconstructing these flags thread by thread and tying them back together again helps illustrate some of the complexity embedded in these objects (and our society). In my opinion, the individual threads form a more accurate representation of a country, all mixed together and barely recognizable.
“I do believe [art] is [helping], and we’d be much worse off right now if we hadn’t had artists of all kinds shaping our culture. But it’s hard to look towards the future and believe we’re on the right path.”
Reading interviews with you and seeing some of your previous projects, it seems that you enjoy bringing creativity out of others. What is it about inspiring others to express themselves that excites you?
There’s a wonderful book called Orbiting the Giant Hairball by the late, great, Gordon MacKenzie (he was a creative director at Hallmark). The book is about navigating a corporate environment as a creative, and I’m going to paraphrase this (apologies if I butcher it), but he questions what happens to us growing up that we lose our creativity. If you ask a room of kindergarteners how many of them are artists, every single child will raise their hands. If you ask the same of sixth graders, maybe half will raise their hands. Ask high school seniors, and you might get one or two. It’s like our creativity is crushed as we grow up by a fear of judgment and the need to fit in. I bring this up because I struggle with it, so if I can inspire others, maybe I could help make things just a tiny bit better. My first book, The 1000 Journals Project, was dedicated “to everyone who’s ever said ‘I’m not creative.’”
You’re based in San Francisco. How would you describe the city’s art scene at this current moment?
Earlier today, I was in Oakland for a friend’s artist talk and then went to a few galleries. Despite the rain, people were out in droves. Then, this evening, I went to Minnesota Street Project for the kickoff of Artweek, and, again, there were big crowds (honestly, too many people for my taste). So, despite all the doom and gloom articles, I think the art scene has been quite energized coming out of the pandemic. There’s a really strong community in the Bay Area, with several top-notch non-profits and institutions dedicated to supporting various groups of artists. Now, is anyone buying anything? Hard to say. The scene is vibrant, but I’m not sure if anyone is making a living at it.
SF is a city that was heavily affected by the societal changes during the pandemic, such as the switch to remote work and the long shutdowns. Has the city’s changes affected the art scene or how your work responds to such changes?
There’s definitely been an impact throughout the Bay Area, and, I’m not gonna lie, some of it is pretty disheartening. Things are particularly bad for the unhoused and those in need of addiction or mental health support. For artists, I see two things happening. First, many folks have been priced out and moved to more affordable areas. At the same time, I see renewed energy and ingenuity in responding to the changes. In some vacant storefronts, artists have partnered with the owners and activated the space for art, performance, and community events. Artists are like weeds; we find a way.
You've left a lasting impression with your art on more than one occasion. Both the 1000 Journal Project and the TWIT (Texting While In Traffic) gained national attention and were featured in news outlets like The New York Times and Wall Street Journal. Do you have a method coming up with ideas that captivates the audience's attention?
I wish I had a method (that way, I could come up with more!). I do spend a lot of time noodling ideas and concepts (I’m far from spontaneous in that way). The 1000 Journals Project had been rolling around in my head for five years before the idea finally clicked (it was based on photographs I’d taken of what people write on bathroom walls and a fascination with these public/private conversations). I’ve had plenty of ideas that have flopped (more failures than successes, for sure). So perhaps my method, if I have one, is persistence. I keep trying. Or maybe that’s just me being stubborn, I don’t know.
A lot has happened within the political and social climate over the last couple of years. The pandemic, the wars in both Ukraine and Palestine, and this year’s upcoming election in the US to name a few. What role do you hope art will play in the future, given the landscape of today?
I have high hopes, I have dreams, I want art to help make the world a better place. Then, another voice in my head reminds me that art has been working hard for decades (and longer), yet here we are. So, is it helping?
I do believe it is, and we’d be much worse off right now if we hadn’t had artists of all kinds shaping our culture. But it’s hard to look towards the future and believe we’re on the right path. I hope we can correct our course, but with people so entrenched in their views and facts being undermined by powerful agendas, I’m more than a bit worried. Plus, it’s an election year. I will keep fighting a good fight, but sometimes I feel like I brought a butter knife to the zombie apocalypse.