Nikki Zuaro (NZ): Can you start off by introducing yourself and give a brief background? Where did you grow up?

Meg Kettelkamp (MK): I was born in 1998 in a small farm town in central Illinois. I moved near Chicago, where I received a B.F.A. in studio art at Olivet Nazarene University before moving to Savannah to pursue an M.F.A. in painting at SCAD. The rumination on philosophies and theories relating to the self, the collective, and nature evoke a meditative and playful response in me through paintings and installations where I seek a space beyond ideas. My work has been exhibited in The Nest Gallery in Savannah, GA, a group and solo exhibition at Olivet Nazarene University, and a group exhibition at Sulfur Studios. This summer, I am working from Lacoste, France and will be relocating to Denver, CO in the fall of 2022 to continue my studio practice.

NZ: I noticed while doing some research that ‘play/playing’ is really forward in your work. You seem to collect nature, paint with earth materials like dirt. Can you speak on your process and the importance of it? What about the substrate (fabrics) you use?

MK: ‘Play’ is a force driving my creative practice and personal life that I have held onto since my senior thesis of undergrad, despite all the changes in my materials and process. As I grow older, and understand the system of capitalism in the West and its affect on me, more of my mental space is consumed by a feeling of lack and desire. I am nostalgic for the simplicity and ignorance of my childhood, often wishing I could go back. I have discovered there is no separation from past and present, and the presence I had then is the same I can have now. Having curiosity with my work, interacting with my surroundings and often using them as my materials is a way for me to enter into the present moment like children do so naturally. Currently, my process involves gathering materials like flowers, leaves, acorns, dirt, etc. for a natural dyeing process where I bundle the materials in a variety of found or purchased cotton and linen fabrics and steam or boil them. Using fabric allows me to infuse color from the life I see on daily walks. I’m thinking about where everything comes from, the place I am in, and the impermanence of everything. It is a practice of accepting rather than rejecting changes, and being alive in my body in connection to the earth and others around me.

NZ: Can you expand on your ideologies behind emptiness and oneness as two in the same?

MK: It stems from my interest in eastern philosophy and practices. I sometimes encounter a feeling of nothingness or emptiness in my mind during meditation, with my eyes closed or when I stare at something like rippling water to the point where it becomes unrecognizable and I am seeing its physical properties rather than naming it as water and looking away. It’s important to me because in this negative space, I am recognizing my oneness of being alive as the same as the water or a plant, and it is not so anthropocentric. As a collective, the implications of this practice becoming more habitual could minimize the domination humans take over nature and each other. Although the ideologies are not meant to be grasped by simply looking at my work, I am offering the experience of seeing something with no name. 

NZ: Do you find that there is tension between the negative space and the forms in your work?

MK: The negative spaces disrupt the organic flow of the forms and create tension between these two things. In a way, the negative space becomes the positive space as it is defining the rest of the piece.

NZ: How does light come into play with your work? I noticed that Warm Light/Cool Shadow and Ghosts have a strong light source and seem important to the work.

MK: Light and shadows have always been of interest to me, beginning with the simple things like sunrises and sunsets leaving golden spots and shadows on my walls, or on my curtain in my room as the wind blows through it. It’s just another thing that stops me in my daily life and invites me to be still. You can see it and it is real, but you cannot hold onto it or control it, and keeping it the same isn’t possible as natural light is always changing. It’s magical. In some works, like Warm Light / Cool Shadow, the stretcher bar is what divides two sides and light can shine through the lighter fabric as the canvases become more sculptural and three dimensional. I’m also using light and shadow as I consider that one cannot be without the other, and it’s beautiful having both. 

NZ: I'm really interested in how you choose to display your work. Looking at how Warm Light/Cool Shadow are propped up and leaning on each other for support, as well as how A Later Wanted Child has a slight separation that gradually pulls apart from each other. Can you speak on how you make these decisions?

MK: I propped them up against each other so that the light would shine through them and they would be more in the space and you can walk around them as objects. This display also contributes to the ideas of dependency two “opposites” have on each other as previously mentioned.

NZ: What does the title A Later Wanted Child come from? It is very different from the other pieces you have submitted.

MK: The tilt was initially an accident with this piece, which later gave it its name. I meant to have them straight with a small space between the two canvases, but when they fell I paused to look at it and it felt perfect. The name speaks to this feeling of the accidental, and maybe named “bad,” but accepting it and wanting it no other way.

NZ: Thank you for sharing your artistic practice and philosophies with us. I am excited to see whats next for you!