An Interview with Kate Clark
Aimee Resnick (she/her) - April 13, 2023
Kate Clark is a New York-based sculptor examining the complex relationship between humans and animals. Working primarily in taxidermy, her sculptures combine animal bodies with human faces to explore the beauty of hybridity. Having featured in dozens of international exhibitions, created masks for Kanye West’s Panda music video, and starred in a National Geographic film documenting her studio, Clark is globally recognized for her innovative work. Today, we set down to discuss primalness, blended identities, and the essentiality of nature.
NAR: How did you fall in love with taxidermy?
Clark: When I was younger, I never thought about taxidermy. Where I grew up, it wasn't part of our culture. But then I went to graduate school in Detroit: my thesis work was about how the human face evolved for communication.
I wanted to focus on why we have these very specific features. Every single feature of our faces evolved so others could read our thoughts and emotions. Humans have a singular ability to read others in a flash. This skill is what allowed us to develop civilization and trust.
Anyway, when it came time to create my project, I asked: why reinvent the wheel? Taxidermy exists. I'm just going to purchase something and see what happens. It was very experimental: I fell into something I didn't quite understand.
I made a sculpture of a deer with a face larger than my own. I really didn't know anything about taxidermy or about sculpting the human face. It was rudimentary, but it was enough. It looked realistic. There was that balance between human and animal.
All of a sudden, this incredibly primal thing happened and my work just continued in that direction.
NAR: Is it the act of creating or viewing taxidermy that’s primal?
Clark: For me, the magic happens in the finished piece. The hide gives off a crazy energy that you can’t get from any other material. I’m very careful about what parts of the fur’s original patterning I leave and what parts I reveal. Underneath the fur, it’s oily and porous: I shape it to look like our skin.
The primal is that combination of recognition. It’s so much like our skin. We don't think about it: we just have a connection to it. It’s that moment of standing in front of the sculpture and not being able to deny its humanness.
NAR: Taxidermy is a traditionally male-dominated field. What has your experience been as a woman in taxidermy, and what advice would you give to others interested in the medium?
Clark: Taxidermy absolutely was a male-dominated field. Historically, it was really beautiful, but it wasn't creative. It wasn’t expansive.
Luckily, I’ve connected with people who understand its possibility. We can go beyond representing the animal and have a larger discussion. I’ve met so many other amazing people who work in taxidermy. They’ve broadened the discussion of what a hybrid can be.
That's been a big deal in my life. People resisted the hybrid. Now, the hybrid is not only celebrated but demanded. It’s what's celebrated right now.
Similarly, when I began my work, the use of leather was accepted: today, it’s rejected.
I feel like leather’s finally making a full circle. Other materials like plastic are not good for the environment. I'm always worried that the plastic bags I use to soak the hides are more detrimental than the actual animal hides.
I upcycle hides that won’t be used for anything else. They almost always have dryness or a hole or something else that's gone wrong. Natural materials like leather will always return to nature. I feel like it’s part of a larger discussion now because people consider their consumption in such a delicate and thoughtful way.
NAR: You mentioned the centrality of hybridity to your work. How do you define the hybrid?
Clark: When I first started my work, people were uncomfortable with the human-animal hybrid. It received such a strong reaction. I did a documentary with National Geographic and the reception among people outside of the art world was crazy.
People always either thought it was absolutely wrong and divisive or absolutely celebratory and connective.
Initially, I worked with birds. People didn't know that colored birds are male. It surprised me how little physical interaction we have with animals, especially wild animals. People didn’t even realize that the horned animals were generally the males.
So I played with that. If I got an African hide, I’d use an American face. Or if I had an American animal, I’d use an African face. That kind of thing. That sort of hybridity.
At first, people didn’t even notice the narrative of hybridity. They got too caught up in the human-animal combination to understand any deeper message. But now I feel like that resistance has waned.
The younger generation has brought a broadening of identity. Hybrid used to be monster. The hybrid is a wonderfully complex thing. It’s not at all negative.
NAR: You’ve also claimed your chimera works supersede traditional human power structures of race, class, and gender. Still, many have remarked on your choice of racialized facial structures for certain projects. How does race play into your artistic practice?
Clark: There's nothing to it. I'm talking about the connection between humans and animals, which has nothing to do with a specific human race. Every human has this connection; it would be silly for me to limit it to people who look like me. That's not the conversation at all.
I live in Brooklyn: all my friends are from everywhere across the globe. I generally recruit models from my noon-time gym class because I need daytime models. That's always been my go-to.
There’s also an element of chance. It’s very hard to get a hide, especially because I seek out somewhat damaged ones. And I have to have really, really perfect paperwork because I sell them and show them internationally. So it's complicated to get the hide, and then it's complicated to find a model.
So I have to leave some of it up to chance. I may get a cougar, an American animal, and have a model with African American features. That combination is striking and there's no reason not to make it. I'm just using a broad variety of genders and ethnicities and everything else.
It’s funny: after all these years, people still walk into my galleries and ask if every piece is a self-representation. That’s absolutely not my work at all. I've worked so hard to improve my sculpting to ensure every face has an individual identity.
I want to give every animal an individual identity. We tend to group them and therefore dominate them. We have to individualize.
NAR: I’d love to elaborate on humanity’s domination of animals. Your work centers on the deep entanglement of man and animal: are the distinctions we draw valid? Where do you divide our genres?
Clark: We could not survive without animals. There’s something in the human psyche that forces us to compare ourselves to others. We need to compare ourselves to animals to understand our own psyche.
If humans left the planet, animals would thrive. They would not miss us. We have this human ability to love, revere, celebrate, and connect with animals. But then we switch gears and completely dominate the land, dominate animals as if it's not detrimental.
Somehow, we hold these two beliefs at once and hide from reality. We are so disconnected from the animals behind leather and meat.
I did a piece called Entangled and it's these two zebras rearing in combat towards each other, but their human faces are just about to kiss. It’s that combination of violence and love that we balance in our minds as we regard animals.
NAR: Previously, you’ve argued that humans have an “endless curiosity to see animals” and emulate their beauty. From where do we derive our desire to be animalistic? Are human notions of animal purity accurate?
Clark: I don't think the purity's manufactured. I think modern life pulls us in all these overwhelming directions. Life’s confusing. And then we see animals in nature completely ruled by instinct and survival and family. It opens our eyes to how many elements of our lives are irrelevant.
For example, we have these freaking phones. We all know we're going down this terrible road. It’s nonsense. Things that we consider comfort actually just detract from how we naturally survive and find pleasure and live a healthy life,
I definitely think there’s still a longing when we look at animals. It’s simpler.
NAR: The most common response to your work is deep-seated unsettlement. How do you respond to allegations of creepiness?
Clark: It's funny. I keep thinking, “people are going to be over it. They're not going to resist anymore.”
I actually ask interviewers to avoid the words creature and creepy. It’s definitely the fastest go-to response; but I've worked so hard to make my work complex and beautiful to hold the viewer long enough to overcome that initial resistance. I want people to reflect on why they have that primary reaction.
It's really when you see the work in-person that you get over your resistance. These pieces are all bigger than humans and the faces dominate the viewer. There's such a connection. The work has so much energy. It comes from the animal hide: it’s not something I’ve put into the work, I've just chosen the material.
The resistance is really important. No matter how much I try to smooth the transition and present [the animals] in a common, dignified way, it persists. I guess that hybridity will always be something that people resist.
Please note: this interview has been edited for length and clarity.
