In Conversation with Tina Braegger

Words by

Scott Young

In Conversation with Tina Braegger

I first fell in love with your work amidst of a growing disenchantment of ongoing cultural obsessions with the Grateful Dead and parallel psychedelic nostalgias. In this way the idea of painting the dancing bear motif on repeat for over a decade calls into serious question the importance of like and taste. For me it’s strange how much I can love a painting of something I dislike…But whether one likes the music or the vibe, taste is seemingly irrelevant next to the cultural impact the band and its fanbase have had. From the Gathering of the Juggalos to Online Ceramic sand everything in between, the dancing bear has put on some serious cultural mileage... In this way it feels like such an expansive motif, able to contain so much and so little.

I often think of paintings as containers, and was curious if this terminology felt appropriate to your practice? Do you think of the dancing bear as a container of sorts?

I guess in my case the container as a metaphor makes sense, it's possible that I‘ve been using the term myself to describe what I‘m doing. I like it. From the beginning my interest in the Grateful Dead bear was this specific thing, solely targeted at the bear. Over the years I have collected a lot of information about the bear, but also The Grateful Dead and their cultural impact in general, because I was curious (still am) and want to know what I am working with in all its depth.

In the origin story of your work with the dancing bear motif an older glitching version of photoshop fittingly rendered the image in a distorted and hallucinatory way, something which was lost when the programme was updated on your computer... Using the oil paint filter without the glitch made the bears look like "shitty oil paintings" and so you decided to go from there and embrace the materiality of this transition by making the paintings with your own hand. I'm curious if your relationship with the paintings has remained relatively similar in the transfer from printer to your hand? Or if you continue to think of them as machine paintings? Along those lines, does photoshop still play a role in layout/ conceptualising the paintings? Is most of the work pre planned and rehearsed or are you operating with intuition as your copilot?

Me discovering the bear, then sticking with it, then not being able to get the same results due to a software update which led me to ultimately paint the bears myself, all these things happened organically and somehow randomly, by chance. Yet the process of painting the bears could indeed be described as mechanical, from the beginning on. I printed the first bear and then the next and then I kept doing that untilI painted the first bear and then the next and kept doing that. In that sense it’s a kind of a standard operating procedure; I know the materials I’m going to use and the motif is the same. I start with painting the outlines of one of the five variations of the marching Grateful Dead bears etc. To keep my mind busy I think about the bear a lot and the more I keep painting it, the more I think about the bears as paintings and therefore technique becomes more relevant. It is a development, of myself, my paintings and the bear. As the practice continues, the ways I work adapt.

Installation View, Tina Braegger, It’s Not Looking Good for You, 2024, courtesy of the artist and Duarte Sequeira.

Your most recent show, It’s Not Looking Good for You, just opened at Duarte Sequeira in Seoul, South Korea. The dancing bear has long been removed from its natural habitat of psychedelia through your practice, andI'm curious to hear if the process of presenting this work in Seoul has opened up any new contextual concerns for you? Is this your first time doing a solo presentation in Asia?

It is my first time doing a solo presentation in Asia, yes. As I‘ve never been to Seoul before, I didn’t really know what to expect. But I guess even if I would have known, I have a tendency to stay close to myself and my own interests. 

For some reason I feel like if you were American the motif wouldn't really work for me in a convincing way. I sort of feel like a layer of irony would be difficult to get beyond. Is this bullshit or does it feel somewhat true?

The aspect of contextual changes plays an important role in my work in general. Me not being American is one thing that matters. I didn’t grow up in USA with its history of pop art and appropriation. Another important fact is that it is not my bear, it’s an unofficial logo of The Grateful Dead. The time the GratefulDead bear first appeared was in the seventies. Me taking the bear out of the context of the band and the time it was embedded in by repeatedly painting it on canvas and exhibiting it to a certain extent shifts or distorts the meaning of the bear and how it is perceived.

I read that your father listened to the Grateful Dead a bit, but the first moment you became curious about the dancing bear wasn't through the music but seeing the dancing bear printed on a flyer for a friend's DJNight... At this point you've done three books, a few hundred paintings, and have collected loads of information about the history of the band and the dancing bear, does the added baggage make the motif more or less functional for you than in the early days when you weren't aware of the history ? Is it hard to get to that blank canvas, infinite possibilities situation with the motif still?

Everything is constantly changing. I think this is one of the reasons why I like repetition so much; even though I am always the same person and the bear is always the same bear, every day I am a slightly different version of myself, depending on my mood, food intake, the quality of last nights sleep, the state of the world and so on. To know that on the next painting there will be another bear makes things easier. I still have to come up with a new version of the bear every time, as you say. As I continue working with the bear, painting it has to stay interesting for myself; I try to improve my technique and I always like to have something to think about. As I said earlier, it’s a development.

Installation View, Tina Braegger, It’s Not Looking Good for You, 2024, courtesy of the artist and Duarte Sequeira.

I'm curious about the shifting scale for the work in Seoul.It seemed like more often than not the work has taken on a larger scale which feels more in dialogue with modernist painting. What was the logic behind this departure towards the standardised size in the 16 works in Korea?

It’s true that I normally work on a larger scale. I like to get into the work physically, to lean into the bears with my whole body. To make smaller paintings was a challenge I’ve been dealing with since a while. In the end it had a technical and personal background; I broke my foot and could not stand for longer than a certain period of time. It was the perfect circumstance to finally face the challenge, to literally have to sit down and work through it.

Also I noticed that in these new works the frames seem to play a more pronounced part, switching colours and depths across the work. Is there a significant relationship for you to these literal frame choices and the bear's operation as a framing device? It's not uncommon for the bears in your work to be joined by other exterior references, frequently to the style or methods of other artists from Georg Baselitz to Sturtevant, but in It’s Not Looking Good for You we see another very expansive and open ended reference reoccur, that of the pawn in a game of chess. (I love the cubed space of the gallery architecture fitting in the chessboard square). Would you mind elaborating on this addition?

There are two questions packed in here. You mentioning the frames makes me think of your first remark, of the bears being containers. Maybe the frames here can be seen as the containers of the bears. For a while, even after actually having started to paint them, I was not thinking of myself making paintings, but bears, so I didn’t see a reason to frame them. But as we discussed earlier, the work developed and by repeatedly painting the bears, the background of the paintings became a more central aspect of it and the act of painting became more central in my work. At one point my paintings depicted space (in a sort of a three dimensional but abstract sense). When I painted a few bears in studio spaces for an exhibition in Berlin last year, I decided to frame these spaces, it just made sense at that point. There were squares in the paintings, depicting doors, windows, ceilings, floors and wooden frame around these spaces seemed like a logical conclusion of these squares. That’s when I first started working with frames. For my exhibition Only one of us is real in Basel in June, I started to fit the frames more to the paintings. And for It’s not looking for you I matched colours of the frames with the paints I used for the single bears and switched them around a little. It is 16 bears, four different movements of marching, four colours I used for the paintings, four coloured frames, four trapezoidal frames etc. A modular set of building blocks to arrange and rearrange.

The second question regarding the number of paintings and the reference to the pawns of both players in a game of chess is just a very loose association of mine. I published a collection of chess poems to go with the exhibition and this alignment of quantity was meant solely as a little hint to the poems. So I guess to a certain extent I am referring to myself or my relationship with the bear. For a long time I had looked at our relationship as a classical subject-object relationship. When I started playing chess at some point last year, I started looking at the bear as its own subject; I started thinking about it asa partner or an opponent. Sometimes we work together, sometimes we work against each other.

The color palette of these new bear works feel more washed out and faded. Soft and atmospheric like the beginning of an idea as it is arising. The bear feels more delicate, and less concerned with enforcing or disposing the parameters of its iconic status. Can you share a bit about your relationship to the colour and form choices in these new works?

This again is due to a personal background: my family and I have just moved fromBerlin to Basel and my studio in Berlin was already cleaned out, as my studio in Basel wasn’t set up. I could work in my friend’s gallery for the time being and had to buy new paint, brushes, and canvas. I bought a tube of zinc white, cadmium yellow and red and cobalt blue oil paint and that’s what I was working with (hence the four frames in the same colours). Having my colour palette reduced gave me the possibility to investigate what was possible within that frame(container). I tried to imitate watercolour paintings, still using oil and I developed a very fast technique, painting wet in wet (I normally paint on a painting over weeks or even months). I don’t think you really see that in the end results but I was thinking of flower paintings without flowers (there were a lot of flowers in the beginning that I erased during the course of painting these bears).

Installation View, Tina Braegger, It’s Not Looking Good for You, 2024, courtesy of the artist and Duarte Sequeira.

Kind of a dumb question but have any serious deadheads been either offended or ecstatic about your work? Any stories of someone losing it?

There are quite a few people who like the Grateful Dead who also like my work. I appreciate the exchange I have with most of them. One of my best real Deadhead friends is this guy @allmyhatsaredead who embroiders hats with Grateful Dead bears and other Grateful Dead insignia. I love his work. In case you are looking for a hat, I would highly recommend getting one of his. There are surprisingly many Deadheads in the art world, actually. Whenever I think I know them all, I am introduced to another one.

Even dumber... if approached to do official Dead merch would you put your bears back into that context?

I did make four or five sweatshirts with Grateful Dead bears by now. They were all replicas of my paintings that I had translated to silk screen; one screen per colour, it was quite complicated to make, I was working with a graphic designer and a silk screen printer. It felt important that my bear sweaters were based on paintings of mine. This is something I really enjoyed doing and I think if I were asked to do something official I would totally do it.

Tina Braegger (b. 1985, Lucerne) lives and works in Basel. Braegger has a forthcoming exhibition at Museum Bellpark in Kriens. Recent exhibitions include Curiosity Killed the Cat, a two-person exhibition with Sturtevant curated by Udo Kittelmann at de 11 Lijnen in Belgium (2021) and a solo exhibition at Neuer Essener Kunstverein (2022). Her works have additionally been exhibited at Kunsthalle Bern; Luma Westbau, Zurich; Astrup Fearnley Museum of Modern Art, Oslo; Istituto Svizzero di Roma, Rome; Kunstmuseum St. Gallen, St. Gallen; Fondation Ricard, Paris; Institute of Contemporary Art, Philadelphia; among other venues.

No items found.