Ann Binlot speaks with Nick Cave on the occasion of his latest exhibition, Amalgams and Graphts, in which the artist has embraced self-representation through intricate needlepoint portraits and monumental sculpture.
Nick Cave has a knack for blending beauty with provocation. After his 2022 survey at the Guggenheim, the artist paused to reflect on the pivotal moments in his practice, from his Hustle Coats — trench coats filled with heavy chains, jewellery, and watches that examine class, excess, and the hustle mentality — to his flower-filled assemblage installations, and Soundsuits — his most renowned series that came after contemplating over the 1991 Rodney King police beating. The Soundsuits serve as a second skin to conceal race, class, and gender, dismissing any opportunity for the viewer to judge the person wearing them. “There was a resolution there, and I knew that I was ready to turn the chapter,” Cave told Elephant from Jack Shainman’s new space at Lafayette Street, New York.
After years of creating work that obscures the identity of the wearer, Cave is now embracing a new era that invites viewers to see him as he truly is. In Amalgams and Graphts, the inaugural exhibition at Jack Shainman’s newest location in Tribeca, on view through March 29th, the Chicago-based artist emerged from the anonymity of the Soundsuits. Instead, he created needlepoint works depicting different versions of his own likeness — there’s Cave with a beaded headdress, Cave in a bucket hat clutching a bouquet, Cave wearing a black hoodie, Cave in a puffer, biker cap, aviator sunglasses, and a multi-coloured scarf, Cave with no accessories looking to the distance, deep in thought. “It’s a coming out, because I’ve been behind underneath the Soundsuits,” he said “This is this reveal, and we have yet to know what that will fully be. We’re always evolving.”
When he decided to take up needlepoint, Cave and his studio team spent three months learning the craft. The artist was drawn to it for several reasons; it could perform like a painting, is done by hand, and brings you into a meditative state. One three-by-three feet needlepoint takes three months to complete. “The fact that you can just get into a zone — into this place of silence — through the repetition is so rewarding and uplifting, and allows resolution to come into play,” Cave explained. “When you get quiet, you get clear.”
Cave collaged the needlepoint with vintage trays dating from the early 1900s to as recently as 2006, each adorned with flower paintings, a personal collection that he’s been curating over the past few years from platforms like eBay, Etsy, and Chairish. He transformed the floral paintings into patches covering up blemishes on the trays — layered commentaries on servitude and the domestic space that double as a way people welcome others.
“What I was interested in is the history of that object, and at the same time, interested in the moment that it was affected by a different kind of application laid on top of it — such as the painted floral. It starts to talk about the histories being suppressed,” said Cave. “I’m taking the tray, cutting away the rim, and using it as a surface, a colour palette, which then pushes history down even further. There’s this idea of what is suppressed, yet what is revealed at the same time. It’s not that I’m covering up anything; I’m reimagining how we view that object. I’m also inviting you to the table — inviting you over for tea, or to spill the tea. It’s really moments of queerness that start to enter the equation.”
The centrepiece of the exhibition is one of what Cave refers to as a “dream project” finally realised: Amalgam (Origin), a mammoth 26-foot bronze sculpture, so big that it needed to be transported into the gallery in two parts, through a window. The work, a version of Cave’s Soundsuits covered in flowers and topped with branches and birds, is a form of public resistance for Cave; “I’ve always used flowers as resistance, in terms of protection, but at the same time, an invitation, a way to draw you in. The floral imagery in my work is a place of empathy, compassion, but it also speaks about resilience, it speaks about forgiveness, it speaks about vulnerability. But I’m also giving you your flowers at the same time.” Cave hopes that the sculpture will find a home in a public space, like Chicago’s Millennium Park, for it to have a wider impact.
With the political climate in the United States turning to the right, Cave has been focusing inward. “Art has always been the catalyst,” said the artist. “It’s a reflection of histories, of where we are right now. We all have to find ways to take care of ourselves through this time because it’s going to be extremely difficult.” As Cave enters his new era of self-representation, his work remains a powerful reflection of both personal identity and a larger societal need for compassion, resilience, and transformation. The artist is no longer anonymous. “This is only the beginning of that reveal,” he said of his self-portrait series. “It comes from a place of identity; it comes from a place of power. It comes from a place of style, in being seen.”
Words by Ann Binlot.
Nick Cave: Amalgams and Graphts continues until March 29, 2025 at Jack Shainman Gallery, 46 Lafayette Street, New York.
