Jeff Herrity, 47, Porcelain Sculptor
When was the last time you met a man in his 40s and felt like they were an old friend? Jeff Herrity is that kind of guy. He transitioned from life in nonprofit advocacy work to working as an artist and giving gallery talks in spaces like the Hirschhorn Museum within a few years. Yet Herrity’s humility is akin to that of a nascent artist, not one selling his artwork all over the country. Over pho in Old Town Fairfax, we laugh over his attempted importation of 5 large bricks of plaster mold into Mexico for his six-week residency at the Arquetopia Foundation for Development in Puebla, Mexico last summer. The TSA had a field day. And we talk about his childhood in Northern Virginia, how his business sense and artistic talent intermingle and his life as one half of a District power couple—his partner, John Copenhaver, is a teacher and Chair of the English Department at Flint Hill School in Vienna and a writer, the recipient of the 2015 Artist Fellowship from the DC Commission on the Arts and Humanities and Larry Neal Adult Fiction prize winner. Herrity shares his artistic process, his wins and the adversity behind the sculptures sold and shown in gift shops and galleries including the Smithsonian. Not bad for a boy from Greenbriar.
How do you deal with harsh criticism? Have you ever had a surprising comment?
[Because of high school sports], I’ve been programmed to understand criticism isn’t talking about how bad you are but helping you … It’s not always an attack on you personally.
When someone first called my work whimsical, that might be the hardest criticism, but I guess when you look at a doll with a bunny head, you’re going to see whimsy. So I’ve learned to accept that.
One time a group of older women came into my studio and looked around, and they immediately looked down their nose and said “your work is not for us.” And it was the only time I was actually kind of snarky back and said, “no, it’s not.”
Do you have any rituals?
I’m a morning person and wake up naturally at around 5 a.m. and go to the studio early [Red Dirt studio in Mt. Rainier]. I do not turn on the overhead florescent lights and rely only on my spot canister lights in the studio. I like the dark, cave-like atmosphere this creates. I usually putter around a few minutes; if I’m in a big production mode, I will clean my work area before I start. This allows me to think about what I need to do that day and lets me be active in resetting my space. I also will play with lights. I love shadows. I love the shadows that art objects cast on the walls. I have many different kinds of lights and will spend time seeing and creating shadows from my pieces. I think it’s my “secret” art practice.
What are you thinking about in the studio?
Some days I want to listen to Antony and the Johnsons and want to be depressed and make work. Other days I’m listening to Miley Cyrus. I’m thinking about the work that I need to make. I go from periods of exploration to intense making. When not under a deadline, I will spend time in the studio making new work and not thinking about what it means or what a larger body of the work would look like—I will just create.
How do you know when you’re done?
I could probably edit and tweak right up to an opening. I do often need help with the editing of my work, and so I can think that I am done but will then have a studio visit or talk with a studio mate about the work and then revise. I think now with the recent passing of David Bowie, every artist is looking at their larger practice and contribution to the art world. Nobody knew he was sick, yet he continued to create and control his work right to the very end. His passing made me, as an artist, feel a little bit less fearful of dying knowing that we can create right to the very last day and then leave the most beautiful message.
Who are your three favorite artists?
I have favorites on a daily basis, and they change like the wind based on my mood. If I were to think about my favorite artists over time I would say [I could stare at] Peter Paul Rubens for hours on end. As a D.C.-area artist and collector I am more driven to find local artists whose work my partner John and I enjoy and collect. Having had my first solo show at the Hillyer Art Space in D.C. in 2014, I am especially fond of the artists who show there. Currently we are having fun collecting the work of J.D Deardourff.
What is your greatest success and worst failure?
Recently I have been proud about several things: Receiving the 2016 DC Commission on the Arts and Humanities Artist Fellowship grant, which will allow me to put money back into my practice and sustain my studio fees. I’m also using some of that money to pay for my second graduate degree (Arts Management), which I start this month at George Mason University,
Second, having my work sold in the gift shop at the Smithsonian Hirshhorn to coincide with the Marvelous Objects: Surrealist Sculpture from Paris to New York and the corresponding gallery talk at the museum. That was a highlight of my career so far, I hope not the last.
I think every artist confronts failure of some sort on a regular basis, when something breaks, or a grant rejection. I just look at those as opportunities to grow and learn, so failure is just a part of my practice.
What part of NoVA do you visit for inspiration?
Having grown up in Fairfax—my uncle Jack was the on the Board of Supervisors—I like to return to see how things grow and change. However, from an artist perspective, I was lucky to meet Jessica Kallista, the owner of Olly Olly, a gallery in old Fairfax. She and I have the same bunny obsession, and as I have come to know her more, I want to spend more time with her and her collective of artists. I really love what she is doing in Fairfax and how widely diverse her gallery is.
Have you ever regretted selling a piece and why?
I don’t think any artist would regret selling a piece once the money comes, but I do have one. For my last show at The Fridge, I made my first piece that incorporated a found object. This was a complete diversion from my practice and validated that I can step away from porcelain and do other things. This was a large cherub head that I then used bright yellow flocking to transform its hair; the show was about transforming identity through social media. I was fortunate to be in the gallery when a soon-to-be-married couple wanted the piece for their wedding centerpiece and then to complement another piece at home. I’m super glad it sold, but I wanted it so badly.