INTERVIEW
First
of all, how does a white girl break into hip hop?
I was
a dancer as a kid, ballet, tap, jazz and from a very early
age had the "beat’ in me...I connected to the
way soul music made me feel on a visceral level. I loved
taking jazz class which was all about learning how to feel
a piece of music and plant that deep inside yourself in
order to then dance the music. I was around 12 when rap
starting catching my attention. It immediately hooked me
with its striking, exaggerated breaks and beats. I loved
the minimalism of it, how it stripped a song down to it’s
purest essence, rhythm, beats, lyrics. I was hooked on the
cleverness of the rhyming... I remember just going nuts
over Grandmaster Flash, Curtis Blow and Africa Bambaata.
I loved anything on the Tommy boy record label. It absolutely
seduced me!
In college,
(1984 – 1988) when hip-hop was really feeling it’s
stride, starting to ooze it’s way into the mainstream
a bit more, I gravitated toward similarly like minded people
and we would play with turntables in our dorms and feel
like we had really accomplished something if we had learned
all the words...The early rap scene was very empowering,
not because it was hard in the gangsta’ way that has
become popular in recent years, but because it could be
strong in it’s message about the world in a searingly
insightful way...KRS One, Public Enemy, Eric B and Rakim,
or fun and humorous like Doug E. Fresh, Slick Rick and Biz
Markie, soft and melodic like Tribe Called Quest, De La
Soul, Stetsasonic, Big Daddy Kane...
And
of course I knew all the soul records they would sample
so that was always fun for me to figure out where the breaks
had originated from...It just seemed natural since I was
so into it, to go do it myself. It was intimidating though,
the only female rappers at the time were Latifah, MC Lyte,
Sweet T...I mean really nobody! Not to mention the only
white rapper was MC Search, beside the Beastie Boys, whom
to me, were way too rock, too renegade to really get into.
I still don’t even own one of their albums. I thought
I could write intelligent rhymes, not about myself and how
great I could battle, since that element was not so interesting
to me as taking it into a new direction and writing from
a woman’s point of view...I was also thinking about
combining it with house music to make “hip-house”
and I wrote a song to Richie Rich’s “Salsa House.”
Then the Jungle Brother's came out with “Girl I’ll
house You” and I knew I was on to something...
Now you
know I have to ask you to give us a few lines.
Lucky
for all of us, I've forgotton them all!
It
seems like in the past you've focused on one passion at
once,
shelving art to DJ, moving across the country to act. Do
you feel like
you've reached a point where you can multi-task your talent,
becoming,
as you said, "well-rounded?"
I definitely
have put a lot of time and exploration into the many artistic
endeavors that have excited me. At times I would question
my overly zealous need to do so many different things, perhaps
it was a way of not having to be totally being focused,
not really taking something to the max for fear of not succeeding.
I questioned this deeply. In retrospect, I know I had to
exhaust these questions I had about all the various avenues
I gravitated toward to get to where I am now, which is in
a place where I can finally say, this what it is for me
is living as an artist, which includes filmmaking. The other
stuff (DJ’ing, teaching Yoga, acting, writing) are
more hobbies...things that I have to do because I so totally
enjoy them, but they are not my ultimate bliss. The impact
of my somewhat circuitous journey makes perfect sense to
me now, in retrospect because it has so deeply informed
who I am as an artist. I do believe that it took me this
long to find my truest voice and to have finally arrived
at a place where I can securely claim my identity as a visual
artist,
first and foremost.
I do believe that many of us, as evident with all the amazing,
diversely talented women of United Divas, find that we need
several creative outlets to feel fully expressed. From an
early age on we are encouraged to find the one thing that
it is going to be for us, that clear cut identity which
will define who we are in this world, professionally. “What
do you want to be when you grow up?” And then when
we are in college, our declaring of a singular major. At
a certain point some of us realize, it may be many things
that we need. We do have the choice to define our lives
any which way we want. We may claim several careers and
perhaps it is the magical combination of all of them which
provides the ultimate path to personal fulfillment. In the
following of our ‘true bliss’ we have become
social renegades of a sort, in this choice of quilting out
a creative life for ourselves and I have noticed in some
people
a resistance in their accepting of this life choice . They
tend to regard us as unfocused, a diluted jack of all trades,
lost even. Perhaps the people who are apt to negate this
multi-tasking lifestyle feel threatened by the solubility
of our efforts. We become a mirror for all the things they
may have a deep inner wish to be doing themselves, but are
not out of fear of the inevitable risks of choosing the
path of most resistance.
You
have the unique experience of working with your family in
the film
"The Talent Given Us." What is it like to grow
up immersed in
entertainment? I
was actually alluding to your uncle, Mark Rydell, as well.
How has he served as a mentor to you?
Mark
was not really a mentor for me. We grew up in New York City
and he was in Los Angeles...I suppose being on the set of
"The Rose" and then spending a month in Vermont
while he was shooting "On Golden Pond," living
up there with Henry Fonda, Jane Fonda and Katherine Hepburn
must have played a role in the allure of the collaborative
creative process of filmmaking. He was always encouraging
when I was a kid in the business, but then never really
partook in my adult career. Though he did go to a screening
for "Looking For Jimmy" when it was at the Avingon
Festival in NYC, but apparently was suffering the entire
time through it, "Where's the story? There's no story!"
I was only immersed in entertainment at my provoking. My
parents were not in the business at all. I took it upon
myself at the age of six, to get involved in theater. I
begged my parents to let me audition for a children’s
repertory company and was still peeing in my Danskin shorts
during rehearsal, being the youngest one in the company.
Obviously this was a desperate need for attention, being
the third and youngest child and I did whatever it took
to get people to notice me. I put on plays in cockroach
infested basement of my upper west side building, gathering
up all the kids, choreographing and teaching them dances
to the the theme song of the TV show “SWAT”
and directing the little tikes in scenes from “Rocky.”
I charged the adults admission of course, being business
minded even at the age of eight! I went to theater camp
in the summers. I was obsessed with performing. My dream
was to be in “Annie.” I cried when I listened
to that record, acting out the entire show in my bedroom,
ad nauseum. Later in life my best friend and I did a comedy
act about two overgrown women still fantasizing about their
squashed dreams of Annie stardom. My parents were always
encouraging but they left it up to me to take my career
in the direction of professionalism that was my own insistence.
I was eight when I did my first film, Woody Allen’s
“The Front,” but I think that was only because
they were shooting a scene in the auditorium of my public
school and needed extras, but somehow I felt as though I
had really hit the big time. That’s when I started
combing the pages of Backstage for auditions. I was twelve
years old when I demanded I get an agent and sought out
one myself. I remember auditioning for “Pretty Baby”
and “Little Darlings” and crying when I didn’t
get the roles. I desperately wanted to be Lisbet Foley the
actress who played Ann Reinking and Roy Scheider’s
daughter in “All That Jazz.”
Are
you still on the lookout for these great roles?
I wouldn't
say I'm on the lookout, being that I am not represented
professionally right now, so there is no one on the 'inside'
looking out for me. Of course if a role came to me, I'd
be thrilled to do it.
"Looking
for Jimmy," the movie directed by your frequent collaborator
Julie Delpy has been called "more an experiment than
a movie." What is
it?
That
was a digital film that we shot under the premise of not
letting the camera stop for 24 hours. A real day in the
life of these two best friends, played by Julie and myself.
It was a very loosely conceived idea about Julie’s
character looking for her boyfriend who was missing. ?That
was about all we know about the plot and set about making
a film where the improvisation of the characters would inform
the direction of the story. Somehow this managed to cut
this into something vaguely resembling a feature, but just
barely. We were so frustrated by how long it was taking
to write a feature based on a short film that we had had
accepted to Sundance and received a lot of attention called
“Blah, Blah, Blah,” that finally one day we
were sitting in my garden and Julie said, that’s it,
we’re making a feature, ourselves. And from there
the idea was born and we ran with it and soon enough threw
this thing together, getting all our friends involved, actors
and non-actors, etc...
And
"Jimmy" was well-received, too. Is the feature
an ideal format for you to work within as a visual artist?
Filmmaking
is so rich in so many ways, it's really hard to compare
it to anything, especially being alone in an art studio
all day. For me it seems to be the perfect balance of solitude
and total social immersion. Filmmaking is so much about
coming together for the greater cause. Everyone's role,
from the gaffer to the stylist to the caterer serves an
equally important, vital role in the final product. I totally
come to life when I'm making a film, especially when my
brother is directing. This summer shooting with my family
was the most incredible experience I've ever had.
You've
been on one of the longest-running TV dramas for a long
time.
How do you play a character for 10 years?
Easily.
Learn my lines and put on my costume. My character on “ER”
is rather insignificant in terms of who I am, it is really
about the vehicle I serve in terms of initiating plot to
unfold: I rush in with some character on a gurney and it
is their story that unfolds from there. There really is
nothing to it other that being myself, and knowing what
the scene is. The show is so technical that it is about
nailing those elements, getting a take that works and moving
on to the next scene. There have been a few episodes where
I actually had to be ‘someone’, I was getting
fired on one, broke my leg on another, and that was about
the most character development for “Doris.”
I was actually thinking, who the heck is this Doris? I do
think that most people who we see playing roles for so long
on TV are really just playing themselves, the parts of themselves
that are most easily accessible. People are often cast for
their essence in television, I think, because they often
have to play a role for so long, that the producers simply
want that character to already exist and then proceed to
seek out the actor who fills their shoes.
George Clooney or Noah Wyle?
From
my observation, they both have similar qualities to parts
of those characters.
You'll
soon have paintings, drawings, sculpture and video installation
to show. What's your favorite medium?
I am
trying to push my work beyond just works on paper which
I have been doing
for the past few years. I want to employ more parts of myself
in the work, for example, performance, filmmaking, movement,
choreography, directing, music, event design. I think about
the entire concept of a show, not just the individual works.
This next show in October at the Acuna-Hansen gallery in
Chinatown is going to be my first foray into that on a more
grand scale. Along with works on paper, I am now including
video, films I made myself of myself and a limited addition
of sculptures that will house the DVD’s of the films.
Hopefully I will have time to compose music for the show
as well. I have always liked to think of my shows as installations,
or events. For example in a show I did based on my dog Flow
and her journey toward spiritual enlightenment, I had her
in a basket in the corner of the gallery, like some Buddha
figure, nuzzling on her bones and teddy bear. I drew bee’s,
which were a featured motif in the drawings, ?on the ceiling
and faint line drawings of Flow on the walls and windows...It
was all encompassing. I want to make the show as visceral
an experience as possible which relates back to my years
of club promoting and creating ‘nights’ where
the moment you walk into the room you are transported. The
influence of ?the early 80’s club scene, Area and
Studio 54, which was all about extravagantly themed environments
that challenged one’s sense of place and identity
have impacted my desire for environmental transformation.
I ?am interested in looking at the way we relate to the
space around us as well as ?what is hanging on the walls.
What's
next?
I would
love to show in New York City, to be in something at the
Hammer Museum, and then of course, there’s the Whitney
Biennial! But, until then I’ll just keep on working
as hard as I am now. When I feel myself resisting taking
risks, that’s when I know I’m coasting through
the work. When working becomes a process that is dull and
uninspired, it’s time to look at why. It is most likely
out of fear of making an unsuccessful move and that’s
exactly when I need to push forward, try something different,
even if it means just switching mediums or the material
I’m working on. Failure is a huge part of my process
and some of my most successful pieces have risen out of
the pits of total catastrophe. I have made the making of
mistakes a formal element of my work and it is often some
of the most beautiful characteristics of a piece. I suppose
my wish is to continue to embrace fear, insecurity and imperfection
in my work and hopefully all areas of my life. I never put
the pressure on myself to be the best, only to be my best,
which means working as hard as I can and learning how to
take breaks!
What's
your favorite place to spin?
My
favorite place to spin is not so much a physical place but
rather when the experience for me is interactive, where
the people are having a cellular response to the music I’m
playing. It is inexplicable to describe how it feels when
you see people freaking out when I put a record that has
tremendous meaning to them, for sentimental or soulful reasons.
I am so concentrated when I’m playing in these situations
that people love to make fun of me because it looks like
I’m trying to solve some extraordinary physics problem.
It is otherworldly to be so deeply connected to people on
a cellular level without even having to speak! I think DJ’ing
is way for me to feel present, alive and engaged with the
world around me. Especially with people I don’t know,
strangers, who suddenly become not so strange but somehow
like friends. I feel a part of something without the consequence
of social posturing which for me usually means feeling awkward,
trying to make clever conversation and be terribly interesting,
ultimately an experience of significant pressure that I
assume whenever I leave the house! For example I am usually
the first one to sneak out and leave my own art shows mid-opening.
I am more likely to want to Dj a party then actually go
to it as a guest. Unless it’s a very small gathering,
an intimate situation where I feel connection on an honest,
intimate level seems possible, I’d much rather stay
home and have friends over whom I love or simply make art,
take a bath, eat yummy food or watch hours of E! TV.
So
who would you want interviewed for your "True Hollywood
Story?"
I hate
this question! Well, I know if it were my best girlfriends
they would only have the most amazing things to say about
me because that's how we are with each other, just so supportive
and positive. My brother, because he's so articulate, he'd
probably make me sound a lot smarter than I actually am.
And my dogs, Baba and Flo Flo, with translator, of course.
