Hi Maggie! I’m so happy to be interviewing you, you truly are one of my favorite artists. It was such a joy to go through your video art.
Hi Amalia! I’m so happy they have paired us for the interview. I love when our long-time friendship is brought back together.
I will start with Pink Horror, which is the newest video piece. In an interview you did for Kunsthalle Zurich for your solo show Magazine, you mentioned how you were going for a psychological thriller. Did you have any movies from that genre in mind?
I made Pink Horror with Heji Shin. It’s only the first draft that was exhibited at Kunsthalle Zurich. I like to pull from films that are not exactly psychological thrillers. It’s based on everyday life and experiences. For the mood it’s a mix of many things… There’s this viral video of an alien dwarf sighting in Mexico. The alien’s particular walking style has been ingrained in my mind, so we had a little person actor mimic it. Oh, and some Jean Rollin La Vie En Rose scenes.
Maggie Lee, Twiggy Eyes, 2024. Mixed media on canvas, 61 x 122 cm (24 x 48 in). Image: Cedric Mussano. Courtesy the artist and Edouard Montassut.
It seems that the use of sound and space was very important in Magazine. Can you tell me more about the soundtrack in your videos? For example, Hearts Mission. Did you make the music yourself? If so, what instruments do you play?
I’ve been recording my sleep talking. I talk a lot in my sleep. I attach a clip microphone to my nightshirt and record all night. That was the soundtrack for the Magazine show. In Hearts Mission, I recorded the best parts of the songs I love that captured what I was feeling and trying to express. I grew up playing violin through sheet music but now, with instruments, I like to play by ear.
I’m asking because you told Nick Irvin and me, when we showed your work—a collection of used nail polishes—in MiCasa that it was inspired by your sister because she was in an all-girl punk band. Were you ever in a band too?
Hahaha, you’re so good. (Laughing.) In the late ’90s, my sister was in this punk band with a bunch of NYC girls. From my elementary school memory, they had this crust punk/Nine Inch Nails/goth apartment. The bathroom was painted with black lacquer, and on the ledge there was a collection of stolen nail polishes. I’m in a band with my friend Bobby—it’s a grindcore band. We sound really bad... like being electrocuted.
Maggie Lee, Moments Like This, 2024. Mixed media on canvas, 61 x 91 cm (24 x 36 in). Image: Cedric Mussano. Courtesy the artist and Edouard Montassut.
Thinking about it now, I feel that our affinity to Gen X culture comes from the fact that we had Gen xers in our life growing up—people we looked up to. In your case, your sister; in mine my mom. How do you feel about youth culture? Did you ever feel you were using elements of that culture subversively or was it always from a loving perspective? Were you always hanging out with older people?
At shows, I was usually the youngest person in the scene, but looking back at it now, everyone there was so young at the same time too. I think of adolescent subculture as a rebellion with style and conviction. It’s both loving and subversive. It has to be balanced. I like the hidden mannerisms, unspoken language, and humor of it.
I like that, while your work looks cool, it is also full of tenderness and heart. I loved your film Mommy, and I really enjoyed watching Daughter from 2016. I find that there is a lot of cynicism in the art world, and I’m happy to see works that not only look cool but that also come from an honest place. Have you ever felt shy about talking about your family in such an open and vulnerable way? What made you persevere and push through?
It’s difficult to share with family, they love me but don’t really understand. The family I grew up with were the first to come to the states from Taiwan. It’s an immigrant story. It’s alarming for that generation to see their children become alternative. It was easier just to hide it. After my mom passed away, I felt like she understood. I was connected to her spirit. I felt her presence helping me make the film.
Maggie Lee, Maggie Lee, 2021. Skirt, tape, magazine, glitter on canvas, 35.5 x 25.4 cm (14 x 10 in). Image: Carter Seddon. Courtesy the artist and Jenny’s, New York.
Let’s talk about another thing we have in common: our love of malls. I remember being so happy when I saw your show at Nordstrom. I remember thinking, finally, someone who gets it! Did you spend much time in malls growing up? Do you have a funny anecdote about hanging out in malls as a teen in NJ?
Hahah, I know we would totally have been friends in high school. I feel like a lot of our friends came from the same fringe art kids circle, and while we’ve come to be peers in the art scene together, we’re still the same people.
The film Mallrats takes place in New Jersey where I’m from. I always wanted to meet cool people I related to from other towns.
My favorite store was SCREEEAM. It was a rave store, lit only by black lights, and people would eat “crave” candy that came in vials while lounging on a giant garbage bag bean bag in the center of the store. I once bought the wrong pants because it was so dark in there.
Maggie Lee, X no sleep X, 2024. Mixed media on canvas, 61 x 91 cm (24 x 36 in). Image: Cedric Mussano. Courtesy the artist and Edouard Montassut.
I’ve seen references to the band Pulp in your work. Tell me more about this Pulp obsession (I love Pulp too!).
I had my first cranberry vodka at Misshapes, a club in the mid-2000s where everyone had the best style, and iconic wall snapshots captured portraits of the party kids. I was in high school, visiting colleges in NYC, and used my friend’s ID to get in. “Mis-Shapes” is a song by Jarvis Cocker, the singer of Pulp. I’ve always liked how he created Common People with just a few notes—that really resonated with me.
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Maggie Lee, b.1987, United States. Lives and works in New York. Her work has taken shape in a wide array of forms including sculpture, installation, photography, zine-making, blogging and moving image. Her videos often oscillate between the personal and the pop-cultural, blending diaristic self-documentation with collaged found sound and image. Lee’s work probes the emotional undercurrents and personal resonances of contemporary culture: memories of the artist’s early years in suburban New Jersey, candid scenes from New York City nightlife, and totem-like odes to the assorted mass-produced ephemera that adorns daily life.