Sirocco Journal
Original Print Editions
Conversations / Perry Oliver
Geometrics, symbolic content being suspended in favour of design
In conversation with Luke Newbould
Ongoing conversation through March, April 2024
Perry Oliver (b. 1941) was born in Pennsylvania, United States. At the age of 27, having been a partner in a design firm in Maryland, Oliver left his life in America for Spain, finding a new home in the fishing town of Nerja in Southern Spain. Arriving as a young, self-taught artist in Nerja, a friend introduced him to intaglio printmaking, which began an uninterrupted involvement with it until 1999, when he made his first sculptures, and set up his workshop studio on a farm in the local village Frigliana. I spent many summers in this village, unknowingly surrounded by Oliver’s sculptures. At the beginning of 2024, when I visited the art shop Almagra at the top of my street, the etchings and sculptures marked ‘Perry Oliver’ made a great impression on me. I asked for any information on the artist, which was limited to a physical portfolio of his work. I was told he has never had a social media presence and lives remotely. Oliver’s works form public collections which include: La Biblioteca Nacional, Madrid, Spain; the Picasso Foundation, Málaga, Spain; la Universidad de Málaga, Spain; Tvis Kirke, Denmark.
I live in the hills of Frigiliana, remote but not isolated. This does mean limited periods without much direct social interaction or cultural activities. Previously during extended periods, I have been much more actively involved. That has its inheritance; I am not disconnected nor socially self-margined. The Malagueñan ambiance itself makes seclusion an extreme. My solitary inclination has not reached that condition, not here, gratefully. So I am saying that my work is and always has been affected by my dalliance with solitude. I don’t want to contemplate what seclusion would do to me or my work!
I am interested in your constructivist design, which can be seen from your architectural background, formalist printmaking, and abstract sculpture. What is it about geometrics that interests you?
I enjoy the geometric in my work as being spontaneous and simple. A few lines on paper, a collage of iron fragments on the table. Many of the shapes have become familiar, a new one occasionally appears. How they fit together anew is what keeps me using them. My interest in it as design is fundamental and decisive from beginning to end. Because there is a representational component, and because for me geometrics encourage abstraction, symbolic expression and literal content can easily get suspended in favour of design. Which can mean, upon reflection, I find something unexpected got into the image. An altered relationship of shapes, textures, colours, space, dynamics is there for me to consider, to indulge, to interpret. I like that: to discover what I subconsciously or intuitively wanted to make.
My interest in it as design is fundamental and decisive from beginning to end. I find something unexpected got into the image. An altered relationship of shapes, textures, colours, space, dynamics is there for me to consider, to indulge, to interpret.
I am usually working on several sculptures at once, always more than one etching. Usually one suggests another, a version of it, sometimes based on a fragment. As I am inclined to make a series, a continuum with momentum happens naturally. When eventually my curiosity is waning and that series of imagery is exhausting itself (and me), then what? It depends. In that instance something beyond my immediate or accumulated experience might initiate new imagery. Other art? That participation has usually been oblique and has been as diverse as Johns, Motherwell, Chillida, Picasso and other masters as well as chance encounters. Inspire me? I shy-away from that notion in favour of provoke, challenge, accompany, etc. On my rare occasions without momentum, if I can fake a calm acceptance of the unpleasant absence, just to be with my materials, to have their physical presence, to look at them, touch them —- that can be all I need. Something happens, usually before I leave the studio.
As a harmony metaphor, I don’t perform as a duet: my graphics and sculpture do not happen simultaneously. I think their physical harmony is mostly history. A vibrant bond between them is ever-present regarding what motivates me and wants expression. I began making art as a printmaker. Three decades and many series later, a technically satisfying aquatint whose no longer relevant concept of space gave me notice and virtually insisted that I go to three dimensions. Then (1999) was when visual harmony occurred flagrantly and effectively. The first few sculptures I made were direct interpretations/extensions of etchings. That was a short-lived fortuitously engendered chord of sync between the two mediums. I do not expect nor try to harmonise the two mediums by design or craft. I have been disappointed on the few occasions I forced it to happen. If they come together naturally and interact as happened in 1999, then please let that be once again because I need it and am ready.