This conversation is part of the Unplated series, a collection of interviews with folks whose work intersects with food, but who work outside culinary spheres. My hope is that these conversations not only spark your curiosity, but help you think about how what you eat is connected to the world well beyond your plate.
The aesthetics of food have been on my mind since writing The Recipe as Art Form, and that train of thought inspired me to reach out to Coorain.
Coorain is an artist obsessed with food and consumer culture, currently living in Atlanta with nine chickens. They grew up in Maine and attended Lincoln Academy, Tufts University, Georgia State University, and once made 100 deviled eggs just to watch them rot.
I've been a fan of their work for years, which is colorful, bold, striking, and to my mind evokes a feeling of luxury and excess. Food, seen through this lens, becomes something we're asked to consider in part as a product, within a constellation of other products (and I include recipes as part of that) that make up our modern lives.
For Coorain, focusing on food gives us a way to reflect on our culture writ large, and our individual relationships to it.
J: Could you start off by telling me a bit about who you are, and about your work/philosophy as an artist?
C: Sure thing! I’m Coorain and I’m an artist that uses photography, performance, and textiles to think about American consumer culture. I grew up in Maine, in a house too rural to have cable TV until I was a teenager, upon which I promptly became obsessed with the Food Network. It was a lifeline to see this world of amazing flavors and tastes was out there at a time when I felt trapped in a small town where black pepper was considered “spicy.”
As an artist, I recognize art is part of life and should reflect that. While I have a degree in philosophy and do enjoy critical theory, I’m not making artwork for philosophers or critical theorists. I am making art to understand the strange world and culture I live in. I like to make things kind of flashy, really beautiful or really funny, to trick viewers into paying attention to the details and reflecting on what things really mean, rather than what we’re told.
J: Food is often a subject of your work. How do you approach food as medium and subject? What feels most important for you to convey to others by using food as a means of expression?
C: Food is such a perfect reflection of culture, and is so accessible to viewers, that I just can’t think of a more perfect way to talk about the peculiarities of being alive today. Food is both so simple and so complicated. Everyone needs to eat and can connect with food, and so often we bond over food. But at the same time, food is so contentious and quickly brings up ethical questions in how it is produced, distributed, and used (or not used).
In America, our current agricultural system is set up to produce vast quantities of cheap calories. I find it breathtakingly beautiful when I consider how accessible so many incredible foods are today, yet I am deeply troubled by the hidden costs.
On one hand, this system has made our lives possible, but on the other hand this very system is causing widespread environmental and health problems. The very thing that has brought us the good life is the thing that threatens it most.
On a personal level, food is both comforting sustenance and danger. In my early twenties, I was diagnosed with Celiac disease, an incurable condition that requires a strict gluten free diet. Food suddenly went from being my strength and way of connecting with others, to my weakness.
Today, my relationship with food is much better and using food as a means of expression is part of that. This thing has given me both my greatest pleasures and most painful moments. When I’m playing with food in my artwork, I hope to capture some of both the joy and the pain that makes up this life.
J: We’ve talked about your work specifically, but I’d love to hear any thoughts you might have about food in visual art more broadly. What are the affordances we’re offered by using food as medium or subject? What can we learn from doing so?
C: Food is an incredible way to communicate. I mean just generally, all the time we use it to communicate care and love, as well as cultural identity. Because everyone has a connection with food, it’s a way to immediately relate. I also like how food can really level the playing field. I mean look at the rise of all these Instagram cakes! That’s just regular people making art with food and it’s some good art.
J: Your work has always struck me as interdisciplinary: I wonder if you could tell me where you go for inspiration. Are there fields of study, other artists, schools of thought, etc. that have a big impact on you?
C: Ok, first I’ll name a few visual artists that have inspired me, in no particular order, Sharon Core, Haim Steinbach, St. EOM, K8 Hardy, Andy Warhol, Jennifer Rubell, and Mel Chin. That said, I’m also deeply inspired by handicraft and crafters like my grandmother and mother. Much like home food production, these homemade art objects speak to the realities of life and are often meant to provide comfort and respite.
I read a lot of nonfiction and find research to be a source of constant inspiration. Often this takes the form of looking at scientific studies, ranging from our psychological responses to smiling, to gut microbes. I try to connect this data to what is happening now and historically.
Lastly, performance art, whether I like it or not, has changed the ways I view and think about art tremendously. But if I’m being honest, the performances that have interested me the most are rarely presented as “art,” but rather what I call “demonstrative consumers.” These performances dominated television, and now social media, with figures like Martha Stewart or Ron Popiel showing us how to consume.
To me, everything really is a performance. The world is produced through performance, which complicates the reality of anything we see: is this person/company/thing putting on a performance? Or are we witnessing genuine emotion? Or both? Whether the thing we’re seeing is a nugget of gold, a plate of food, or a president making a speech, reality is performance and performance is reality.
J: Finally, I was a huge fan of the work you did a while back (and perhaps are still doing) with Jello molds. What was the inspiration for working with Jello in the way you did?
C: I was first attracted to Jell-O’s beauty, but quickly became fascinated by its history, especially the moment when it goes from a labor-intensive luxury to a convenient, cheap consumer product. Nutrition and complex flavor take a backseat to color and convenience.
For me, Jell-O is the perfect example of food as a visual symbol. All those aspics and congealed salads that were so popular in mid century American cuisine are a perfect example. At the time, putting a Jell-O salad on the table really represented access to refrigeration, and by proxy, the good life. It’s a food that is intended to be consumed as much by the eye as it is the mouth. If that’s not art, I’m not sure what is!
You can learn more about Coorain on their website or on social media at @coorain
P.S.: my 2022 journal
Recently, I posted on social media about my 2022 vision journaling plans, and many of you wanted to join. Basically, I journal on a different prompt at the start of each month, then focus on that part of my life throughout the month.
This is wholly self-directed (i.e. we aren’t meeting and journaling or anything), but I hope sharing the prompts will inspire others to take up this practice.
You can find the prompts and journaling process at this link.
If you decide to join, and post about it, please tag me (@rootkitchens or @bookishjulia). I’d love to see how this project resonates with others.