Untitled (1962), a free-standing sculpture, was made entirely from scavenged materials by Donald Judd, the high priest of 20th century minimalist art, who was also a prolific furniture designer.
I went on the residency programme (in 2021) that was set up by him in 1986. They require you to submit a proposal about why you want to come to Marfa, and to be honest I wrote nothing about Donald Judd in my proposal.
I was more drawn to the extreme weather; there are not many residency programmes in the desert. I was drawn to the border between the United States and Mexico and to the meteorological border where the moist gulf air meets the dry air from the west. I’m drawn to hostile environments.
Normally they have 600 to 900 applicants and pick four to six. With a proposal not about minimalism, I doubted they’d pick me. If I had to choose a label for myself, it would be maximalist.
Going there was really important for me to learn about minimalist art in person – I got to live right in the middle of his art collection. Then I understood why he’s important.
What’s really crazy for me is – why do we artists have to install our work every few months? It doesn’t make sense economically. This was a place to permanently install his work.
His persistence is definitely a key thing. He managed to convince the Dia Art Foundation to give him the money to buy 340 acres (1.4 square kilometres) of land. The locals thought he was some kind of cult leader. But he managed to pull that off, and it’s quite crazy.
To be a better artist, you should always be willing to challenge yourself and try out something less comfortable
He gave me the impression that if you want to be a good artist, you have to have a vision. Maybe not many people will believe in you or agree with you, but he persisted. It made me think, “This is who he was – who do I want to be?”
His influence on me is not about informing some aesthetic element; it’s a bigger question about how I see my practice and what kind of artist I want to be in society.
Before he became very famous, this was his first free-standing sculpture. I’m also drawn to his furniture. When he first moved to Marfa with his two kids, he had to create furniture on his own.
There was some in the barracks (the Chinati Foundation is located at the site of a former army base, with the barracks used to house both art and visiting artists). Sometimes I’d sit on it to work and think, “Oh my God, this is not comfortable.”
I was thinking a lot about what Judd was saying: he thinks you work better when your chair is uncomfortable. If you are comfortable, it implies you are not challenging yourself enough or making anything new.
The furniture was a reminder to me again of what sort of practice I want to have. To be a better artist, you should always be willing to challenge yourself and try out something less comfortable.