Laetitia Olivier-Gargano is counting (scare)crows
Laetitia Olivier-Gargano’s practice is driven by a close survey of food, plants and everyday objects, through surreal, sculptural reimagining. By blurring the boundaries of complex yet recognisable forms her work at once sparks feelings of fascination and repulsion. These edible and domestic items speak to deeply personal emotions, recollections and associations. Her work often engenders bodily responses from viewers due to their intense familiarity, yet complete absurdity. Our stomach turns, and we want to look away, but curiosity stops us. It is this uncanny sensation and the universality of it that her works make us aware of.
Portrait of Laetitia in her studio, 2018. Photograph by Michael Lehtonen.
Laetitia is an emerging artist, currently based in Melbourne. She graduated in 2016 with a Bachelor of Fine Art (Honours) from Monash University. Her work has been exhibited nationally at institutions such as Perth Institute of Contemporary Art (PICA), Cement Fondu and UNSW Galleries, Sydney, and has also featured in publications including Broadsheet, Artist Profile and Art + Australia. In 2019 Laetitia received the Freedman Foundation Travelling Scholarship for Emerging Artists, administered by NAVA. She undertook research in Japan, learning how to make their iconic plastic food samples. Laetitia’s practice often involves “hyper-surrealistic” resin cast sculpture, stop-motion animation and works on paper.
This conversation took place in June 2021 on the occasion of Laetitia’s Firstdraft exhibition Sometimes when I feel empty, I eat a second breakfast.
Interview by Karen Golland, Co-Director, Firstdraft, 2021–22.
Laetitia in the studio, working on a giant toast sculpture for Knox Immerse Festival 2019. Courtesy the artist.
Laetitia Olivier-Gargano, Egg Orchid #4, 2021, polyurethane resin, polymer paint, wire, aluminium can, 25 × 25 × 50 cm approx., installation view (detail), Sometimes when I feel empty, I eat a second breakfast., Firstdraft, Sydney. Photo: Zan Wimberley. Courtesy the artist.
“The thing that surprised me most was realising that every single piece is handmade.”
Karen Golland: In 2019 you were awarded the Freeman Foundation Travelling Scholarship for Emerging Artists and travelled to Japan to learn techniques for making fake food. This trip included visiting the birthplace of imitation food. Can you tell me about your trip to Japan and what you learnt from visiting the factories that produce sampura for Japanese restaurants?
Laetitia Olivier-Gargano: I started off my research trip in Gujo Hachiman, a beautiful little town in the mountains. I had organised a translator, Akiko, to accompany me on these factory visits and she helped me to arrange meetings. We met with the manager of Sample Village Iwasaki; she and Mr Kobiko took me on a tour around his factory. The thing that surprised me most was realising that every single piece is handmade. A factory is basically a group of artists who all have different tasks, and making fake food is pretty much like making real food. Someone makes the katsu crumbs, someone does the gluing and another does the painting. A pizza is made like it is in real life, start with the base and add toppings, then put in the oven to cook and set!
I chatted with the managers and artists in these factories about their casting and painting techniques. At another factory, Fake Food Hatanka, which is known for its sampuru fashion, I tried on a bunch of fake food hats while I chatted with Mr Hatanaka. Everyone that met with me was incredibly generous and kind and I feel very thankful for the time they spent with me.
Laetitia Olivier-Gargano, Sometimes when I feel empty, I eat a second breakfast., 2021, installation view, Firstdraft, Sydney. Photo: Zan Wimberley. Courtesy the artist.
“A factory is basically a group of artists who all have different tasks, and making fake food is pretty much like making real food.”
Laetitia Olivier-Gargano, Nonna made polpette, 2020, polyurethane resin, polymer paint, polymer clay, beer bottle, gum branch, ceramic plate, dung beetles, 30 × 30 × 60 cm approx., installation view (detail), Sometimes when I feel empty, I eat a second breakfast., Firstdraft, Sydney. Photo: Zan Wimberley. Courtesy the artist.
KG: Your title Sometimes when I feel empty, I eat a second breakfast. is humorous yet also speaks to the human condition. How does it bring your works together?
LOG: I’d had the title in my head for quite a while, I guess I think of it as a way to sum up this period in my life. I like the play on words for the meaning of ‘empty’. Empty in your stomach, empty in your heart. These works have all been created out of a love of food, but also during a time of sadness or contemplation for me. When I feel empty, I eat a double serve of Vegemite toast.
Laetitia Olivier-Gargano, Sometimes when I feel empty, I eat a second breakfast., 2021, installation view, Firstdraft, Sydney. Photo: Zan Wimberley. Courtesy the artist.
Cereal pond, work in progress 2020. Courtesy the artist.
“ The pieces of prosciutto and capicolo laid on the gum branch gave this beautiful, eerie effect, almost like Dali’s melting clocks. Maybe it’s about the surreal-ness of it all.”
KG: It’s impossible to look at your sculptures and not wonder how they were made. What’s your process for creating these forms?
LOG: A lot of different processes go into each piece, and most of my studio time is spent trying and failing and trying again to create the right textures or colours. I mainly make silicone moulds from real food and objects, then cast in resin and stick different forms together. I also use an airbrush for painting and to give a realistic look. Sometimes I add in found objects or bought pieces. They are all a big sculptural collage of make-it-up-as-I-go techniques.
Laetitia Olivier-Gargano, Cereal pond, 2020, polyurethane resin, polymer paint, terracotta pot, plastisol, ceramic bowl, plants, water, 50 × 50 × 25 cm approx., installation view (detail), Sometimes when I feel empty, I eat a second breakfast., Firstdraft, Sydney. Photo: Zan Wimberley. Courtesy the artist.
“Empty in your stomach, empty in your heart. These works have all been created out of a love of food, but also during a time of sadness or contemplation for me.”
KG: On the website you created for ‘Sometimes when I feel empty, I eat a second breakfast’ you record ‘how to make katsudon’ as a recipe for making the sculptural form out of resin. You also include family recipes for food you can eat, like wrinkly olives and links to cherry tomato focaccia. How has this link between making art and making food come about?
LOG: I love that katsudon recipe! Akiko was so lovely and translated pages from a Japanese library book about fake food making for me. This was one of her handwritten pages. I really enjoy how it reads like a poetic recipe. I guess food has always been a big part of my life. It’s how I enjoy time with friends and family, and it’s how I stay connected to traditions. I love its forms and colours and textures. Losing my Nonna in 2019 also meant losing her beautiful food and recipes, the things only she could make the way she did. I’ve been thinking a lot about her and I guess that’s reflected in my cooking and my art making – the ways I express myself.
Laetitia Olivier-Gargano, Junk food-eating Venus flytrap, 2020, polyurethane resin, polymer paint, faux plant, popcorn, lollies, aluminium can, 10 × 10 × 25 approx., installation view (detail), Sometimes when I feel empty, I eat a second breakfast., Firstdraft, Sydney. Photo: Zan Wimberley. Courtesy the artist.
“I came across an old photo of Nonno in his garden with these solo can scarecrows during lockdown and I keep thinking about it.”
KG: Your work Nonna made polpette is reminiscent of floral arrangements, and at first glance looks like it could be an offering of food for deities. What’s the meaning behind this particular combination of everyday objects and the fake food you’ve chosen to combine them with?
LOG: This was one of the first sculptures I made when I came back from Japan. I guess I was inspired by the beautiful arrangements there, but also wanted to create my own fake food sculpture that reflected Australian-Italianness. I’d been thinking a lot about the foods my Nonna made – her polpette that she would drop off at Dad’s work to bring home for us for dinner. Her capicolo. Her sugo. My family uses these old long neck VB bottles to bottle our sugo and my Nonna often used these plates at her house. The pieces of prosciutto and capicolo laid on the gum branch gave this beautiful, eerie effect, almost like Dali’s melting clocks. Maybe it’s about the surreal-ness of it all.
Laetitia’s Nonni, Rocco and Rosa, cutting tomatoes on sugo making day, 2019. Photo: Wim Olivier.
KG: Why did you become an artist?
LOG: I’ve always been an artist and it’s the only work I think I could be content with doing for the rest of my life. Being an artist means I can be anything. I can be a teacher, a gardener, a cook, an entomologist, an anatomist and many more things all at the same time.
sometimeswhenifeelemptyieatasecondbreakfast.net, website homepage. 2020
KG: The scarecrow features twice in your exhibition, once as a garden stake with a solo can on top and then again with a gardening glove on top. Can you tell me about the significance of these forms and the materials you’ve used?
LOG: These scarecrows make me laugh. When we were little, Nonno used to make these objects to scare away the birds from his veggie patch. Taped to stakes he would stick old solo cans, gloves, random objects – once (traumatically) my auntie’s teddy bear. I came across an old photo of Nonno in his garden with these solo can scarecrows during lockdown and I keep thinking about it. I also revisited photos of my Japan trip and was reminded of the beautiful mossy rounded stones and plant displays outside of people’s front doors. There are lots of similarities between Japanese gardening aesthetics and my Nonno’s gardening style. Lots of repurposed objects and creative solutions. I wanted to make my own silly scarecrow combining these ideas.
Laetitia Olivier-Gargano, Sometimes when I feel empty, I eat a second breakfast., 2021, installation view, Firstdraft, Sydney. Photo: Zan Wimberley. Courtesy the artist.
Laetitia’s Nonno, Rocco and her brother Laurence, in the veggie garden, 2008. Photo: Wim Olivier.
“Being an artist means I can be anything.”
Laetitia Olivier-Gargano, Sometimes when I feel empty, I eat a second breakfast., 2021, installation view, Firstdraft, Sydney. Photo: Zan Wimberley. Courtesy the artist.
KG: Who or what are you listening to, watching, reading? How do you stay connected – or how do you disconnect – in these times?
LOG: I’m listening to a lot of fast-paced, bass-heavy dance music at the moment in preparation for a Donk World gig I’m DJing at. I love to dance to loud, energetic music. It helps me forget about the world for a while and enjoy being in my body and getting stupid with my friends.
KG: Where to next? What projects and plans do you have for the immediate and longer future?
LOG: I’ve also been working on some wall hanging sculptures for Notfair 2021 which opens in Melbourne on the 20th of May. Using up the leftovers (haha) from this exhibition and my studio, I’ve made sculptural meal sets that aesthetically and metaphorically sum up feelings and memories. Though after this exhibition I’m not sure about where to next. Travel is sadly off the cards. I’ll probably have a small break and then get back into my studio, it’s all I know how to do.
Laetitia Olivier-Gargano, Egg Orchid #4, 2021, polyurethane resin, polymer paint, wire, aluminium can, 25 × 25 × 50 cm approx.; Egg Orchid #2, 2020, polyurethane resin, polymer paint, wire, aluminium can, 10 × 10 × 25 approx.; Egg Orchid #3, 2020, polyurethane resin, polymer paint, wire, aluminium can, 10 × 10 × 25 approx., installation view (detail), Sometimes when I feel empty, I eat a second breakfast., Firstdraft, Sydney. Photo: Zan Wimberley. Courtesy the artist.
“It’s how I enjoy time with friends and family, and it’s how I stay connected to traditions. ”
Laetitia Olivier-Gargano, Scarecrow #2, 2021, polyurethane resin, polymer paint, faux plant, stone, garden stakes, cable ties, leather glove, 30 × 30 × 160 cm approx., installation view (detail), Sometimes when I feel empty, I eat a second breakfast., Firstdraft, Sydney. Photo: Zan Wimberley. Courtesy the artist.
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