Urban Dreams and Dystopian Realities

Nick Naber explores the intersection of architecture and emotion in his intricate artistic vision

Nick Naber discusses his artistic process, inspirations, and the philosophical themes of alienation and control found in his architectural drawings.

Nick Naber is a compelling voice in contemporary art, drawing inspiration from the stark realities of urban life and the complex interplay between architecture and human experience. Based in Brooklyn, his work resonates with a profound exploration of dystopian landscapes, informed by the visual language of penitentiaries and the rigid structures of modernist architecture. Naber’s creations invite viewers into meticulously constructed worlds that reflect both the psychological and physical confines of modern existence. His ability to weave narratives through intricate mappings of imagined cities reveals a deep understanding of the human condition, particularly the themes of alienation and control.

This exclusive interview with WOWwArt Magazine provides an opportunity to delve into Naber’s philosophical explorations and the inspiration behind his artwork. He articulates how his experiences as a wanderer in New York inform his artistic practice. Employing isometric and axonometric perspectives, he creates a sense of disorientation, challenging viewers to engage with their surroundings in a new light. The interplay of watercolour and pencil further enhances his exploration of architectural representation, showcasing a tension between precision and the chaotic nature of life itself. Through this dialogue, Naber illuminates the intricate relationship between his artistic vision and broader societal narratives, offering a unique glimpse into the mind of an artist who deftly navigates the complexities of urban environments.

Nick Naber, a Brooklyn-based artist, captures the essence of urban life through his innovative and introspective art practice.

How do you define the term “heterotopic environments” in relation to your work, and what inspired you to explore this concept?

Foucault describes it as a world within a world. The works that I make are 1:1 to his definition. I think about them as places. Architecture is a perfect metaphor for the human mind and body. The work I make is steeped both reality and my imagination. They relate directly to my emotional and mental state at the time of their creation. At times the work is more open and inviting, at other times it’s inaccessible, suffocating, and circuitous.

I’m a wanderer, especially in New York. I take my time when I walk places, noticing oddities in my neighbourhood in Brooklyn and throughout the city. Later I go home and draw from memory these architectural elements. Sometimes they end up in the work, other times they just live in my mind and in my sketchbook, but subconsciously they eventually end up in my work.

Can you elaborate on the significance of using watercolour and pencil in your artistic process, particularly in conveying the themes of alienation and control?

In 2008 I taught myself to draw in isometric and axonometric perspective for an independent study I was doing in the architecture department of my undergrad. I fell in love with this odd and off kilter type of parallel perspective. Watercolour came much later in my practice. I taught myself how to watercolour in 2013 by watching YouTube videos. Watercolour is an odd choice to use with my precise underdrawings of architectural spaces, is media not known for control.

Control and alienation go hand in hand in my work. I’m an introvert and gay. One of the areas of alienation in my life is that I don’t identify with popular gay culture, I also don’t identity with heteronormative culture. I use this in my work by pushing control or the attempts at control over the watercolour. It’s impossible, the work shows my hand, my over painting, splatters, or other mistakes. Like life it’s impossible to exert control.

How do you see the relationship between architectural representation and power dynamics reflected in your drawings?

Architecture is a physical place we inhabit. The work I make takes something that exists, then pulls it into the abstract, back to the place it began. I’m compelled to make spaces that I see as both utopic and dystopic at the same time. The work is a dichotomy of these two ideas. At times I see the drawings as a safe place, a place I can hide. On the other hand, they have no real scale, there’s no place in which to situate yourself, and there’s no way in or out. Again, it references the way I operate in my own life. The ups and downs of interaction in mainstream society.

In what ways do you believe your modular structure and the accompanying sense of disorientation contribute to the viewer’s understanding of urban environments?

The use of isometric and axonometric perspective in the drawing immediately creates disorientation. The modular elements in the work serve the purpose of lulling the viewer into a sense of security. The longer you spend with the works the more disorienting they become, elements you thought made sense fall apart, the perspective changes, the paint splatters, elements become hidden. I do these things subconsciously when I make the underdrawing. I carve these places out on the picture plane and sit with them and contemplate how they interact with other elements that were drawn before. “How can they be more complex?” “How can I create an unstable place?”

Cities like, New York, London, LA, Paris, where there is confusing density it’s hard for people to create a mental map of the city. My work attempts to achieve that same feeling. I could never remake a work again; I’d have no idea where to start. I don’t keep work up in my studio after I finish it, it goes straight into the flat file. I don’t want it to impact the next drawing, it’s important that I struggle each time to make the work. It’s part of my process to in some ways reinvent the wheel. It feels that way navigating a city, you remember something around the corner only to realize it’s not there, was it ever really there?

Could you discuss the impact of saturated color in your work and how it interacts with the geometric forms you create to enhance your critique of architectural design?

When I first learned how to watercolour, the work was monochromatic, it was a carryover from when I made large scale acrylic paintings. I thought that it portrayed a seriousness with lineage that existed in art history. Then I read an essay in a Drawing Center catalogue about Ken Price’s drawings that changed a lot of my thinking. The basic thesis was, Ken used high key colour to attract people to his drawings, the subject matter of which typically is graphic, sexual, or catastrophic. I thought about that for a long time and began to play more with saturated and oft times high key colour. The colour lures you in and with any luck keeps you there long enough to unravel some of the mystery that’s there.

What philosophical influences have shaped your exploration of architecture, and how do they manifest in your visual language and themes?

Foucault is one of my main philosophical influences. I find him to be one of the more approachable philosophers about culture and architecture and their inherent relationship. The seed of my interest in architecture has always been there. Since I was a little kid, I was always drawing places, castles, imagined homes, forts, etc. I’m incredibly affected by the spaces I occupy, and it’s always been that way for me. I make this work because it hides/reveals my emotions, it helps me order the world, it creates safety, and it also becomes an inescapable prison of my design.

EDITOR’S HIGHLIGHTS