Judith Engel // As far as I understand your work it is based on two things. The first is the grid with its fixed structure. And then there is a material with characteristics you are somehow interested in. Tape, wire, ink. Then, these materials meet the fixed structure. I think that it’s about a balance of both constituents without one dominating the other.

Mirjam Widmann /// It’s never about balancing things out. Different aspects of interest often come together. There is this one piece I did in my studio in Edinburgh, a quickly taped grid on the wall, and I had no idea what I should do with it. But when my class gathered for a meeting in front of it the grid started to get my attention. The faces of the ones sitting in front of it became part of a proportion system. I was reminded of mug shots. I figured out that grids are always linked to scale. The floor piece Grid#21 plays with the idea of scale and proportion. Another aspect is my interest in how grids are connected to architecture, especially the gap between a construction plan and its realisation. The two dimensional idea and the three dimensional realisation; the absurdity of the translation act. Another thought for the installation Grid#21 was the relation of the grid to the human body and that the viewer was be able to walk into it. I always want it to be seen with a person walking over the taped tiles.

// Is there something you are more interested in: the grid which you want to analyse or the material?

/// The material! For one thing, I often start with a certain material. I’m interested in the moment when a material fails. Some good examples are the works with iso tape which doesn’t stick to walls. Due to this defect and combination of the tape with a surface, a composition occurs. It is temporary, changes, disappears and I can’t have any influence on it.

// Are you allowing the compositions to be completely created by chance?

/// The decision for a specific composition becomes redundant. I just take it as it comes. I’m interested in composition but I refuse to compose myself. The results when I try to compose myself never get my interest.

// Is your focus really on something others would try to avoid? On the features the material lacks?

/// I somehow prefer to work with the character flaws of a material. For example, when I weld a grid out of tiny wire pieces which bends out of shape because the wire is actually too thin, a composition appears that I couldn’t have imagined. There is a similar idea behind the ink piece: Although I use the same mixture of water and ink for each square, the grey tone is never the same. It always depends on how much paint is on the brush. In between the framework, which I have set, a “random” composition is created due to format, movement and material. The element of movement became more important recently.

// One gets the impression that your work is mainly about grids and material. But the grid could be replaced, couldn’t it? It’s just about a formal structure for the painting which has no symbolic meaning inscribed?

/// Yes. If you have an alternative in mind, please let me know. As far as I can remember, in the beginning I was just looking for an all-over composition. A grid has no point of emphasis. No composition. I’m still fascinated by that clarity. Furthermore, a composition is created even with the slightest change. And after a while, when I couldn’t think about my work without the grid, I started to engage myself with patterns; with repetition, seriality, production sequences, networks, etc. My latest works are far off from being just about material features and a grid structure.

// Alright.

/// The grids serves you well in many ways. It always gives you a scale. I liked the aspect in Grid#21 that it linked millimetre paper with architecture and knowing at the same time that it was construction on the very same. I wanted to add something absurd.

// So, does the material need to be in a certain form in order not just to be ink spot?

/// Exactly.

// You could have simply poured out a bucket of ink on your paper.

/// Right. Ink is a classic drawing materiel. You can even work it with huge Japanese ink brushes.

// … or you could paint something figurative.

/// Exactly.

// We just talked about the fact that you are not interested in creating a specific form. A shape that communicates something because it becomes a symbol. Are you interested in a level of content at all?

/// I know that when I start off with the idea what I want to communicate the result never interests me. I don’t want to be illustrative. The grid helps me to get rid of so many decisions I’m not drawn to. The aim is to stay close to the material and not to force the material into being this or doing that. But as soon as a piece is finished I want it to have several levels and offer different interpretations.

// Unlike Concrete Art where any association is banned?
/// Correct. Not at all. It’s ok if you say that the ink drawing (Grid#20) reminds you of fog or water …

// … a swarm …

/// … or flocks of birds. Nevertheless, I wouldn’t emphasis those associations on purpose.

// This way it’s a lot more open. There is a different level of content.

/// I think I’m in a place where my way of working is about to change. You don’t want to endlessly repeat yourself. In my former pieces things are rather simple: I took a specific material and a grid. I let both elements collide and there the result was. The importance of size was new in the ink drawing. The drawing I did before was a lot smaller. When I took photos of the work I realized that the good ones were the shots where the drawing looks five times its size. Therefore, I choose the size and format for the piece that one was able to stand in it and was smaller than the drawing itself. It nearly becomes some kind of wall. Another change is the interest in the world of objects. The format for the squares for Grid#20 are taken from a squared school book. We’ll see where this takes me to.