Food in Painting: In Conversation with Caddy Burns, Macy Jordan, and Gerardo Gomez

Food in Painting:
In Conversation with Caddy Burns, Macy Jordan, and Gerardo Gomez

In order to better understand an area of my study, literary gastronomy, I interviewed three artists who recently made paintings about food: Caddy Burns, Macy Jordan, and Gerardo Gomez. Just as writers have given food inexhaustible roles in literature, there are seemingly endless ways that we have assigned meaning to food in art, and these have transformed across space and time. I began this interview with a monologue about my concerns in food studies, interviewed each artist, and then opened the floor for reflections. While concluding, our conversation branched off toward a performance by Monika Rostvold, which left me with thought-provoking closure about the interconnectivity of all of these artworks. In our discussion, I found that these three painters departed from historical precedent, instead taking inspiration from contemporary artists and their personal lives, and depicted pragmatic, jarring, and jubilant food realities of young American adults.

Interviewees: Caddy Burns (she/they), Macy Jordan (she/her), and Gerardo Gomez (he/they)

Interviewer: Shelby Sult (she/her)

Interview took place December 5, 2020

Thanks to the pandemic-inspired popularity of the software, our interview took place over Zoom. As each of the different artists joined, we very instinctually found ourselves sharing about food. I talked to Macy about a bizarre experience she had in a drive-thru, and when Caddy and Gerardo joined, Gerardo gave a quick rant about his regretful decision to buy a cheap Wendy’s meal (in order to have more money for art supplies - a classic starving-artist predicament). Without yet realizing the irony of our conversation, I transitioned to give a word about literary gastronomy, and what I found noteworthy or interesting about food studies, which is what led me to invite these three artists to an interview.

Shelby: Thank you so much for joining me! Like I mentioned earlier, the past couple of months I’ve been learning about food studies and literary gastronomy, how food is portrayed in literature and for what reasons, and I’m interested in comparing all of that to how artists use food. We looked at how food is used in poetry, short stories, creative essays, creation myths, documentaries, films, and novels. Food can be portrayed in endless ways and for different reasons, and Margaret Atwood said “eating is our earliest metaphor.” It’s interesting because it’s inevitably connected to the human condition because we rely on food to survive. So it’s always going to be there.

Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarian’s quote, “tell me what you eat and I will tell you who you are” exemplifies this. What we eat and how we eat says so much about who we are, on individual level and more collective levels. We have individual, personal connections to food, but it also connects us. We always find ourselves sharing food, and we even opened this Zoom by having conversations about our food, which is kind of interesting.

Gerardo: Yeah, yeah!

Shelby: I know, it’s pretty ironic? It’s so pervasive.

Gerardo: I did not even think about that.

Shelby: But we’re talking about food, we share food, we sit down and eat and cook together. We pass down food through our families, or share it culturally. In the broadest sense, I think consumption is, I think, a universal experience; it is a common thread that runs throughout humanity. We all relate to it in some way. But we certainly don’t all eat the same.

Something that stood out to me while learning about food studies is the relationship between food and power, or food ethics. Primarily, what does it say about us if we, in a post-colonialist society, have groups of people that are hungry? You know, at this point that’s a choice. We have the ability to ensure that everyone is fed or has access to nutritious food, but we don’t. And food scarcity - we’ve all gone through college so that’s something that we can relate to in some way. Or having to choose what you can eat based on other things, like having to buy paint.

Something else is that there seems to be a huge lack of understanding, at least with many Americans, and we are so distanced from these food realities. It’s fascinating how we’re constantly eating food, yet know so little about our food pathways, or all of the different processes and people our food went through before reaching us. A lot of the time we don’t have a first-hand experience with the food we eat.

There are endless different ways to talk about food, but it is so interesting to me to see how writers and artists use food and their work. There’s an inception to it I think, because audiences consume the work which has to do with consumption itself. Anyway, I’m really drawn to how each of you have made work about food, and so glad that you were able to join me in discussing them; thank you for being here.

Shelby: I want to start with Caddy and this painting, Midnight Snack. First of all, will you tell us a bit about your background?

Caddy: I mainly started out with painting, now I would consider myself more of a multimedia artist. I studied painting, printmaking, and photography for my BFA at the University of Texas - I’m graduating tomorrow. But I started out with more “academic” forms of art-making and now I’ve gotten really into craft and textile, fun stuff like that.

Shelby: Congrats on your graduation, that’s super exciting! So, what do you make work about? Does Midnight Snack fit into a larger dialogue?

Caddy: I made this at the very beginning of this year, pre-pandemic, and I make work about occupying a body and what it means for me to exist in my body. Especially looking at the art historical context of women, specifically white cis women - women were being used as this object in a painting. They were this beautiful, quiet, almost not-human thing. I was like, ‘I don’t feel like that in my body ever,’ and most of the time I’m thinking of my body as this vessel that I am bound to, that is kind of unfortunate sometimes. I get hungry, and I’m cold when I’m naked! I don’t exist perpetually as this object-goddess, or whatever I would’ve been portrayed as in a painting two-hundred years ago. So I started to make a lot of work about that: what it feels like to be in my body and how I interact with other bodies and the objects in my domestic space. This painting is a response to that. That’s me getting some food out of my fridge in the middle of the night, probably pickles or something weird. That’s how this painting fits into the work that I’m making.

Shelby: Something that really draws me to this painting is your color, it has this incredible luminosity to it, and your material is interesting too. Does your process tie into the works’ overall meaning as well?

Caddy: Yeah, it definitely does. This is actually painted on a weird, transparent, yellow plastic that is used in construction. I find that I’m often drawn to certain materials, which is why I’m into textiles now, and I think about how I’m going to make those materials interact with each other. A lot of the time, the image itself comes from my camera roll on my phone. So sometimes I’ll catch myself doing something and think, ‘this is pretty funny,’ or, ‘this would make a good painting,’ and then set up my camera really fast to take a flash photo of it to keep and bring up later for reference.

Shelby: It makes a lot of sense that you’re working with non-traditional materials because you’re also breaking away from the traditions of how women are painted. Referring back to food and what it means to us, and how we portray it, what does this work say about your relationship to food?

Caddy: I mean, I love food. But I think it’s pretty relatable to people who were raised as women to have complicated feelings about food, and complicated relationships with food and our own bodies. I was thinking about that a little bit, in the way that it might have been taboo at one point, to talk about how women eat. It’s weird, and it’s pretty outdated at this point. But I was thinking about the bodily function of eating and how it’s a normal thing but people are really weird about it. If that makes sense.

Shelby: For sure. And I think that this moment in time that you captured speaks to that too. Because it feels so natural, and definitely relatable to me, but there’s this forbidden element too - like trying to be quiet opening up the fridge in the middle of the night. In a broader sense, what artists are you influenced by?

Caddy: Especially when I was making this painting I was looking at Robin Francesca Williams a lot. She paints women in these really wacky scenarios and they’re kind of scary but in a really great, forward way. I love her work. I was also looking at Natalie Strait and Shona McAndrew; they both paint a lot of women with food. Shona McAndrew paints a lot of plus sized women with food and portrays larger women in her work. It’s a similar thing where that’s just her experience that she’s portraying. But everyone writing about her work is like, ‘woah! She’s painting plus-sized women! This is crazy!’ But it’s just like, her reality. But, those were the three main artists that I was looking at at the time I was painting this.

Shelby: Can I ask you what you’re working now or next?

Caddy: Yeah, so I have been making more textile pieces lately. I’ve been making rugs and felted pieces that I’ve mainly been using to replicate household items like houseplants. I really want to take this concept of self portraiture, figurative work, and textiles and mash them together, and maybe make some weird rug self-portraits or something. So we’ll see how it goes. We’re in a really transitional period right now with my work; I don’t know what my studio situation is gonna look like.

Shelby: Totally, and you’re graduating so going through a personal transformation as well. Well good luck, I’m really excited to see what you have in store!

Shelby: Macy, I want to ask you if you’d tell us a bit about your background?

Macy: I’m originally from a really small town but I moved to San Marcos to go to school here. I got my BFA in painting, and I graduated December 2019.

Shelby: Great - well also congrats on your graduation, I’m looking forward to that myself. Generally speaking, what do you make work about?

Macy: These days I’m making work on the abstract side, but when I was at Texas State almost all of my work focused on my own relationship to my body and my relationship to feminism. The idea of feminism kind of exploded for me when I got out of the small town and was thrusted into this new “city life” of San Marcos, and being around so much diversity - I had never experienced that before. It was really fun to explore all of that using my own body.

Shelby: in You Are What You Eat specifically, what did you aim to communicate?

Macy: So when I made this work I was examining what it would be like if I took what I ate in day and just slathered it on my body and could see right in front of me what I had been eating. It helped me to realize that my diet was trash at the time, and I wasn’t taking care of myself. It was a harsh reality to think, ‘yes I’m a struggling college kid, but I can do better for myself.’ It helped me to realize that I needed to treat my body better and love myself better.

Shelby: I think that that’s something a lot of people can relate to. That’s really fascinating that you made it so literal by putting these two things side by side, where food would normally just go away after you eat it and you don’t think about it again. So, what was your process like?

Macy: I did a whole photoshoot; I was laying in my bathtub with food all over me. Looking at the photo, it was really jarring to see the amount of food or the types of food that I had spread across my body. I took a lot of pictures and I liked the composition of this one the best; I felt like the centered food right over my stomach was a good juxtaposition. Like you said, it was really literal and I wanted it to be. Because, kind of like what Caddy said, I’ve always had a complicated relationship with food. Especially since this was taken at a lower point, it was jarring to have to reference this photo a lot and see my body portrayed that way. But I did a base layer and layered on top of that with some thicker oils, and was thinking about my body a lot the whole time I was painting it.

Shelby: It sounds like a diaristic, very personal experience for you. I think that rawness really shows. Even in the tension, in the high contrast of the painting, it seems to zone in on that one very sensitive, important issue. So in your work, or with this work specifically, what artists influence you?

Macy: I love Elly Smallwood, Helen Beard, Marilyn Minter, and Sally Hewitt; I reference them a lot when I’m working on something new, especially since I’ve gotten into soft sculpture. Sally Hewitt is my girl right now.

Shelby: I really love her work. Thank you for sharing all of that with us.

Shelby: For Gerardo, would you mind explaining to us, before we delve into these, about your background and what you’re doing now?

Gerardo: Yes, I was born in San Antonio, Texas and I went to San Marcos to get my BFA in drawing and I graduated in 2017. After I graduated I moved to New York, and I’ve basically been doing a residency in my apartment and making art non-stop.

Shelby: So either in terms of the work you’re making right now or the time that you made these, what do you make work about?

Gerardo: Back then, kind of similar to Macy, I grew up not very open minded. My first philosophy class I realized, ‘what? I can have my own mind and body and think?’ So I started using my own queerness, my own identity — that I never owned before — and I took it full throttle and was finally unapologetic about it. Gay films, gay narratives always have to be depressing, but I just wanted to make happy art, art that reflected my actual experience being queer and show people that there’s nothing to be afraid of if you truly own yourself.

That was the whole basis of those paintings. *laughs* Now... my work is based on the woes and the depressing, all of the real things that come with being queer on your own. My work now is more narrative, psychedelic, multi-dimensional. I try to think in multiple layers and speak mostly about time in my paintings.

Shelby: That’s really fascinating. Will you tell us about Don’t Disrespect the House and what it means?

Gerardo: ‘Don’t disrespect the house’ is a quote I was given by my father. I was living my life, being very queer, trying on all this clothing and makeup that I wanted to wear and my sister was very supportive. My dad told me to suppress my queerness in front of family members, to not be gay, to stop pretending to be someone I’m not, and ‘don’t disrespect the house’ is what he told me. ‘Okay... well then I’m gonna get my own house. Buh-bye.’ So I moved across the country and got my own apartment. This painting is based on my friend who really inspired me because he was in a similar situation but he moved to Austin, got his own house, and he was the queerest person I knew at the time. He really inspired me with his authenticity, his bravery, and his truth. He loved avocados, and so do I. Avocados are commonly used as a metaphor for homosexuality; it derives from the Aztec word ‘āhuacatl’ which translates to ‘testicle.’ It was sexual. It was homoerotic. I wanted to show them in their hard shell, untouched, and I have some all over his body, to represent ejaculation. I wanted to represent Hispanic culture with emphasis on green, red, and yellow.

Shelby: I love that the avocado is shown in so many different forms and the figure is multifaceted themselves.

Gerardo: Yeah. The avocado in its shell is like being in the closet, cracked open is being comfortable with yourself, and having it splattered all over you is like complete ecstasy.

Shelby: In this next painting, I think it’s fascinating that it takes place in a grocery store. What does this say about food?

Gerardo: So, this is all gluttony. I wanted to show frivolity. An extravagant garment in a place it should not be — the grocery store. This is based on me and my sister’s crazy nights out, maybe not being sober, and eating donuts at the grocery store with a friend tagging along. In a lot of my paintings about my sister, I am the voyeur to her crazy antics; she’s a showstopper. She’s a star. I have the juxtaposition of the fresh fruit but we’re eating donuts. I put neon lights on the donuts to give it a club atmosphere and to make the colors pop the way I wanted them to.

The way it relates to food is that it’s an acceptance of being naughty. Everyone knows that eating a donut is like twenty points on weight watchers. We want to say ‘F that’ and own the chunky legs. Put glitter on it! That was the vibe: ‘this is my body and all I gotta do is add a little shimmer and I know you’re looking.’ The donuts are alluring in that sense too. I wanted her to look like a donut. Just delectable, but naughty.

Shelby: I’m gonna go eat a donut now...

Gerardo: You should!

Shelby: Can I ask which artists are you influenced by?

Gerardo: At the time I was influenced by this Brooklyn-based artist Adam Lupton, I had the pleasure of meeting him and visiting his studio. I’m currently going back to my roots and what has always interested me. Frida Kahlo will always be number one. I really gravitate towards her honesty, her narratives. I am obsessed with the Italian artist Gabrielle dell’Otto. He depicts Marvel and DC characters, but I am obsessed with the way he portrays Spider-Man. They look like Caravaggio paintings; they are immaculate. I love contrast, chiaroscuro. Jenna Gribbon is another artist in New York who is amazing.

For my last question, I asked how these artists have changed since first making the paintings, or how current events like the election, protests, and the pandemic have changed their perspective or affected how they made work. Gerardo and Macy reported on the more general shifts in their perspective and circumstances over time, while Caddy shared their specific enlightenment alongside the Black Lives Matter protests, and how this altered their understanding of the art world.

Gerardo: Three years ago was a different time, for me at least. My work was a lot happier. Right now it’s totally not, I don’t feel comfortable making work like, ‘look at me!’ Through myself I’m trying to speak on larger issues; I don’t paint myself to show myself, but to be a mirror for other people.

Macy: I think that my perspective definitely changed, because I relied a lot on the opinions of my classmates and the questions they would ask me. That painting would be completely different if it were just me, by myself, in solitude. I was always really inspired by everyone around me, and being by yourself is so different than being in a studio.

Shelby: Totally. We make such different work and perform differently when we’re not surrounded by a community in the same way. Caddy, what do you think? You made this painting right before the pandemic really began, and for a lot of people, spending time by themselves, this painting might be a really accurate window into their experience during the pandemic.

Caddy: I think I’ve become so much more aware of my body during quarantine, because that’s what you exist in and there’s not a lot to distract you from that. I found myself thinking about identity. As far as everything that’s happened in the past year, I don’t think it’s affected my art making as much as it has affected the way that I interact with the art world. Maybe because my art was already very domestic and personal. But when the Black Lives Matter protests started it was really eye-opening to how elitist the art world is. It was less important for me to think of my own work and more important for me to think about who does not have a voice at all, and what we can do to change that. I find myself seeking out opportunities for Black artists and doing more research about inequity in the art world, and sharing those resources through my platform.

As the interview came to a close, I opened the floor to see if anyone wanted to share any thoughts or realizations about each others work, their own work, or the theme of food general.

Gerardo brought up painter Monika Rostvold, a 2016 Texas State graduate, whom he credited as inspiration for himself and for being a catalyst for themes of food in artwork at the university. One of her noteworthy performances at TXST was in 2016, where the artist covered her body in Chick-Fil-A while wearing only a bra and underwear. Laying down on an outdoor dining table, the artist was surrounded by mostly male students who occasionally took pieces of food off her body to eat. While I had originally interpreted the performance as being about the commodification of women’s bodies, Rostvold had actually set out to demonstrate how college dating culture is like eating fast food. The artist told MySanAntonio, “I think the fact that food being craved and satisfied relates to how we satisfy our emotional and physical relationships.” Gerardo even noted how this ties back to his regrettable Wendy’s purchase that we talked about at the beginning of our discussion.

While talking with each artist, the subject of food had began to feel like a prism, where each artist explored unlike food experiences that were adjacently related, yet did not quite overlap. However, Gerardo’s observation made a full-circle path back to the beginning of the conversation, and this performance piece seemed to fill the gaps between these three artists’ messages and methods. It reminded me of Caddy’s redefinition how women’s bodies are portrayed in art and her reflection on the complicated relationship between food and our bodies - a truth that is certainly exemplified by Macy’s painting, You Are What You Eat. Macy puts this difficulty on display for viewers and herself to see, and formally echoes Monika’s choice to cover her body in fast food. With a more celebratory approach to indulgence, Gerardo’s use of fast food symbolizes sexual flamboyance and attraction, which shares common ground with Monika’s exploration of dating culture. These different areas of overlap provided an exciting opportunity for me to consider how each artists’ use of food, though deeply connected to their personal experiences, acts like the social or cultural function of food in bringing us together.