RLT Interview #5: Lotte Andersen, Artist

On Portobello Road, her grandmother's antique shop, and taste monikers.

The RLT Interview explores all the things, people, and places that have informed a person's taste and, more importantly, sense of self.

This week, I chat with Mexico City and Lima-based artist Lotte Andersen who works within the mediums of sculpture, collage, video and sound and plays with the themes of archiving and memory. Her work has been presented at David Kordansky Gallery in Los Angeles, La Casa Encendida in Madrid, Rose Easton and The Whitechapel Gallery in London, and her first solo show at Helena Anrather in New York City, and more. 

Get to know Lotte as she muses about her grandmother’s antique store, the importance of markets, and beautiful materials. 

On Taste 

My grandmother, Gretchen Andersen, is an antique dealer who has owned an antique business called the Lacquer Chest in London since the late 50s. She inherited it from her mother-in-law, my great grandmother. Her particular style of mixing Victoriana, plain English and folk art and her interest in collecting influenced her children and, subsequently, her grandchildren. I was always asking to be more like everybody else because we were so different. Now as an adult, I'm like, “Why was I upset that we didn't have cream curtains?” We had original William Morris curtains. Her shop was frequented by British creatives and tastemakers; one of her friends was Terrance Conran, another good friend was Bárbara Hulanicki, and another was in charge of the Royal College of Arts’s fashion department. They were always talking about their politics and perspectives on the world and how it can influence good design or taste. Because my grandparents were shopkeepers, they were staunch labor supporters and left-wing, which influenced how they decorated. They always had beautiful things, but they weren't necessarily expensive. The interest was in antiques, which leans towards finding rarities and constantly exploring places, whether its trunk sales or auction houses. My taste is massively informed by those behaviors and their friends; the main lesson being that money doesn't equal style. 

One’s taste can be so arbitrary. I think about that alot, especially in my artwork. Sometimes I'll make work or choose palettes and, in the back of my mind, I can feel a thermometer going off like “This is in bad taste”. But, I find kitsch so fascinating. “Good taste” can be very constraining and sometimes uncreative. I suffer a lot online when I see this “clean girl aesthetic”, I hate homogeny. My taste is very mixed-up, very bric-a-brac, very busy because I love stuff and ornamentation.

There's a lecture by a British artist, Grayson Perry, where he suggests that taste is class warfare and something invented by the upper classes in order to exclude those who are less financially able and differentiate themselves. What I took away from it is that taste is something that often gets weaponized by the ultrarich. He says a lot of things that my grandmother used to say, which was that “Taste is something that the super rich imposes on everyone. It's not real. It's a social construct.” I'm often playing with that. I notice it alot in my job as an artist when I see who gets to decide what’s good art. 

Moving away from London and now living between Mexico City and Peru, I’ve had to put my taste and my style through a silo to figure out how I can still be me while being respectful to the cultures. I usually wear a see-through top without a bra, which in New York and London is so cool, but here it isn't in good taste. This is a modest and highly religious country. I’ve had to adjust the choices I make when I get up in the morning and get dressed. It's interesting how taste can develop and change, depending on where you are and navigating how best to respect the culture.

On Discovery

I grew up near a vintage market in London called Portobello Road. In the late ‘90s and early ‘00s, when I was about 10 or 11, there were lots and lots of design teams that would go to this vintage market to buy archive pieces. At the time, all I wanted was clothes from Miss Sixty, H&M, or Zara, and my grandmother would try to teach me that there’s better by taking me to Portobello Road. I had this amazing experience of touching clothes and touching objects firsthand; trying on a great coat from the ‘40s with a good silk lining and heavy wool. Then, when I went to try on the H&M version, which is what I wanted, I realized the old stuff was way better. Also, every week, my grandmother would take my sister and I to a museum and I hated it and I'd be like, “Why are we here again?” Now, I’m like thank you.

I still spend a lot of time in markets. They’re an interesting social barometer on taste. There’s always a bootleg section, so you can see what's valued in mass popular culture, not by entering a mall, but just by entering a much lower income shopping environment. My first understanding of Mexican culture was through markets. There's a market down the road called Tianguis Cultural del Chopo that sells records and I learned that this market in the ‘90s was an important hub for goth culture in Mexico City because it was the first place that you could buy bootleg band T-shirts. If you talk to people here in their 40s and 50s, they always talk about this market being where they learned about counterculture. It could be Portobello Market, it could be Chopo Market, it could be Camden Market; one of them is making Phoebe Philo, one of them is making Amy Winehouse, markets are important. 

On Beauty 

For five years, I worked for John Pearse in London. I was constantly touching and valuing fabric and as a result started to categorize things on a hierarchy. Now, I’m keen on buying things made of good quality materials. My life is all about comfort and the things that have brought me the most comfort are often natural and organic; I'm willing to pay that difference for that quality.

I’ve kept tons of clothes from my teenage years, I'm a massive hoarder. There’s these loafers that I haven't worn for years, but this weekend I wore them. I bought them for my 25th birthday on Jermyn Street, which is a street in London that sells suits and fancy men's old clothing. I was thinking, “These are 10 years old. How are you still wearing these? Maybe you need to buy a new pair.” Then, I realized I didn’t need to buy a new pair; these shoes have been re-soled, re-polished; they’re just the best and that's why I bought them. Working in tailoring for menswear, I realized that the way women shop is so different; men buy the best thing that they can find; if it dies, they replace it or repair it. When I worked for John, part of our policy was that you could bring your clothes back anytime and we'd fix them. That influenced how I shop in real life. I’m always like: “Don’t buy this, buy that, it’ll last longer”.  

On Desire 

When I initially desired fancy things, I was a teenager. It was Y2K and I wanted a Fendi baguette and Vivienne Westwood boots; my dad said no and that’s how I started making  my own clothes. If I wanted a new party dress for the weekend, I’d go to the market, buy some vintage clothes, use the fabrics and make a new party dress. My sister always tells me how she would come home from school and there would be decimated clothes all over the floor. 

My relationship to desire is attached to ease. I’m not very materialistic in many ways, yet I do crave gorgeous things like everyone does. When I wasn’t able to afford the things I desired, I always looked for the most affordable alternative to satiate the desire; that meant altering the pants so they become low -waisted because I can't afford those Dries ones. I love looking for secondhand things. I find beauty in objects with history and other people's old clothes, sifting through them and relishing in the story behind finding something that's similar. I find satisfaction in the hunt.

On Pleasure

We all have complicated relationships with pleasure. It's always changing, isn't it? The thing that's given you pleasure last week might not be a thing that will give you pleasure this week. Pleasure and desire for me are very linked; it's ease. I want to feel comfortable at all times. The older I get, the more allergic I get to just any kind of discomfort. I love walking. It's one of my favorite things to do. I walk and I listen to music and I walk and I talk. But walking or any kind of movement is my greatest source of pleasure,peace and happiness. It seems to push everything else away and things reorganize themselves. 

— As told to Tahirah Hairston

What's the last thing you did for pleasure? 
I want to go dancing and every time I want to go dancing, someone invites me to go drinking and eating and I surreptitiously say yes, and then I leave and I'm like, I just wanted to dance. Recently, I got a facial and it was lovely. They used traditional Mexican herbs and infusions. It was the opposite of what people would expect, there’s no red-light treatment, it's like walking into an apothecary from the 60s. These ladies paint something on your face and let you lie in these 1950s chairs.

What's the last thing you bought?
I had a pair of shoes made in Peru. They’re cheetah print, pony skin clogs. I added a blue piping around them and a stacked wooden heel. And, I got a pair of Marsell woven white leather slip on moccasins. 

What's the last thing you read? 
Pasolini’s Roman poems.

What's the last thing you watched or saw?
Right now, I’m in San Francisco and I recently watched Chan is Missing. It was amazing to see the city during that period in the early 80s.

What are you coveting right now? 
I’m enjoying the neo-boho look that's coming back, like Sienna Miller in 2003; low belts, lots of fringing, loose fabrics, less makeup, very comfortable and quite 70s. I've lived through that and now I’m coveting it again. I also want a pair of very simple, black leather Prada knee boots.

What's the last thing you disliked?
Taste monikers bother me. I was brought up very middle class, and then, because of my job and because of the school I attended, I found myself around people with significantly more spending power than I've ever had. I’ve noticed that now there’s this clean girl aesthetic or quiet luxury style where everyone wears the same thing. Clothing has always been a way of projecting to the world who you are, but now everyone has the same plastic surgeon, wears the same things, and wants a Birkin or a Chanel, thinking that makes them tasteful. I find myself wondering, “Am I nostalgic or did people with money look better when I was younger?” They seemed so glamorous, fabulous and different. 

I remember buying  this cup four years ago in a market in Oaxaca and it's a very standard Oaxacan clay fire, but to me, I'd never seen it. I was able to go and have a chat with the seller and ask questions about the way they make their ceramics in that region. That's the pleasure that I get from stuff. It's not the pleasure of acquisition. It's like I'm very invested in the object or the thing or the treatment and it's all about the feelings that I get around it. So, I get annoyed when I see luxury being treated like fast fashion. Luxury is something you define for yourself! 

What are five cultural things that have informed who you are today?
Music has been influential on my life. My father and sister are both musicians, so there were always instruments in the house, good sound systems, and records. I would spend a lot of time looking at the insides of record sleeves. It's fun to think of these as the original archives of pop culture images as they existed in place of telephones. 

West London in the 90s was a really vibrant neighborhood to live in; the community was made up of Caribbean immigrants, Brits and the Moroccan community. There was a real scene on the market with interesting musicians who also lived in the neighborhood as well as record labels. I am so grateful to have grown up in such a creative community. We also have Carnival the last bank holiday weekend in August which is the best. 

Growing up I loved reading and particularly I loved reading about characters like The Great Gatsby; the book deals so beautifully with the cult of personality. I find Gatsby to be one of the most interesting characters when it comes to how he invested himself in the world, whilst creating at an event, and then imagining all of the different social structures that exist within it.

I was really into the 70s as a kid. So, I loved movies like The Dreamers, which is set during the student riots in Paris in 1968. I found the French Lycee fashion and the music that surrounded that time endlessly interesting, especially having worked for John Pearse who's like a 60s icon. 

What do you smell like? 
I wear cedar oil that I buy from a wholesaler in the center of Mexico City. Before that I used to religiously wear Molecule. 

What's one thing in your closet that you'd never get rid of? 
A couture Alexander McQueen dress from the mid-90s; it's fluffy, black, short-sleeved, and it has a kick. It swirls out perfectly when you spin and has little cap sleeves. It was given to me by Maya Norman who shared she had worn it to Damien Hirst’s first show at the White Cube. I wore it on my 32nd birthday.

What's something you spent a lot of money on that was worth it? 
Shoes. I remember buying a brilliant pair of red cross over Prada sandals in the Spring Street shop. I also remember spending all my first paycheck on a pair of Vivienne Westwood heels when I was 17 and an amazing pair of stacked heel red Gucci loafers when I was around 26. It was terrible, I couldn’t pay my rent the next month. I've always had this idea that if I invested in something really beautiful, something really beautiful would enter my life. 

What's something you spent a lot of money on that wasn't worth it? 
Funnily enough, a mattress! We moved out of our place last week and our movers accidentally melted our giant memory foam super king mattress. It was only after I stood looking at the giant hole that I realized it had always been so uncomfortable. 

What’s something you always recommend or gift to people?
I love massages and saunas, so I’m always looking for an amazing masseuse wherever I am. I work alot and it can be quite physical if I am working on the floor, and I find that massages really help stretch me out. Also, spending so much time in Mexico City you start to feel the pollution around you and the sauna helps you sweat out heavy metals. 

What does it mean to have taste? 
To me, to have taste is to constantly be cultivating your eye by looking at things. I also like to think you can’t engineer and manufacture your taste, it’s something to indulge and luxuriate in. Your taste is the thing that's going to make you feel the best. I think developing a good relationship with your tastes gives a lot back to you opening new curiosities. Back when I used to make clothes with John Pearse, I developed an understanding of cut, silhouette and cloth which completely affected how I relate to clothing. 

All photos are courtesy of Lotte.