Q & A with street artist Jack Nesbitt

While Justin Gignac sells garbage for what it is, Jack Nesbitt is busy transforming it into something else. Nesbitt is an artist who uses litter found on city streets to create and display his work. Between protesting with artist right’s groups and preparing for his second gallery show, Nesbitt spoke with me about the motivation behind his unique medium and his intense connection to the streets of New York.

Brooke Edwards: How would you describe your paintings?

Jack Nesbitt: They are playful and abstract—a reference to Bauhaus, Paul Clay, Feininger, Kandinsky… And there’s always a story behind them. Or I will create a story to go with the paintings.

BE: Is there a philosophy behind your work?

JN: The philosophy of my work is that what people throw away is something that I use. What people think of as useless, I like to put some use to it through my imagination.

BE: Can you share some examples of items you’ve found on the streets and how you’ve turned them into art?

JN: I use a lot of cardboard that I find. And I’ll add white paint, or some spots of bright color. But I like the color of cardboard and a lot of times I’ll let the natural color show through.

Sometimes I find modular garbage, like the same wedges of Styrofoam, 5 or 6 pieces, light green, all the same shape. Recently, I used the wedges and put them down on the sidewalk and made an inverted staircase on the ground. And then I cut some cardboard and labeled the piece with a price. Of course it didn’t sell, but that’s okay, too.

BE: Can you talk a bit about how you find the items that you use? Do you go out looking for something particular?

JN: The way I work is that I don’t look for special things, I let the things find me. I just watch for something to catch my attention, something that can initiate my imagination and start the wheels turning. I take what I find. Sometimes they’re disparate objects that don’t fit together. But if you are able to put them together and play around, you might find a visual connection. It’s something very personal to you and you engage your spiritual inner life, taking whatever you find, to make something, to make a story, to tell a story and to share that with other people. The artwork is greater than the sum of its parts.

BE: Is there an environmental statement behind your use of litter to create art?

JN: I don’t consciously go out and think I’m going to save the world by picking up garbage and putting it together and selling it. That’s not my intent. The only conscious motivation I have is the intent to use what most people discount, most people don’t need, and to create something that stirs a little interest. That’s a use of garbage or found objects to initiate a dialogue. As far as I’m concerned, that’s what keeps us going as a people.

BE: Just how old are you, if I may ask?

JN: I’m 67. I’m too old to really be on the streets, but there’s a certain vitality that I get by being there.

BE: And you take your commitment to the streets one step further, in that you sell your work there.

JN: It’s free enterprise at its best. There are so many street artists that are inventing things that have never been seen before. The ideas are rampant out there. The fact that it’s just on the street and the fact that it’s made from garbage or what people throw away, it’s just as much a vehicle for expression. So much of what I consider art or what the public considers art is legitimized by putting it in the surrounding of a museum or gallery. But it doesn’t need the gallery to be called art or a creative act.

BE: Have you ever shown your work in a studio setting?

JN: I did a one-man show in Albany 15 years ago, before I moved to New York City. Right now I have a gallery and it might be that I am going to show my work. It is on 57th St., which is a pretty good location. I also have an agent for the first time. You have to pay the bills. But the streets are where my soul is.

Why buy used goods?

eBay is built on it. Thrift stores and flea markets, the same. What motivates people to buy used goods?

Sometimes it’s about saving a dime. But other times, these old goods are labeled “vintage” and sold for more than a new equivalent.

I think a bit of it is nostalgia. People like to believe there is a story behind what they own. But is this about a true longing for a sense of history, or about having a story of our own to tell? Afterall, it is so much more interesting to say, “I got that table at a flea market in Nice. It used belonged to…” than to say “I got it at Ikea.”

Some of these nostalgic-minded consumers would also spout the familiar phrase: “They don’t make things like they used to.” For them, in spite of the fact that the goods are old, they still believe they will hold up better because they were made from better materials, with handmade techniques.

Buying used/discarded/vintage goods is also a bit of a trend. A fashionista thing, with the vintage clothing and housewares. Buying something odd, something that doesn’t look like it was freshly manufactored. It’s cool. It’s cutting edge. It’s anti-establishment.

Then there’s the “green” movement. For those who subscribe to this school, buying used goods or saving something from the landfill is about protecting the environment. Reducing our output. Not being wasteful. But others would argue that this is just a covert way to continue mass consumerism. To overpay for something you probably don’t need because it is made from recycled goods. Though I would argue that there is still some righteous motivation here…