Interview from Create! Magazine Issue 12

By Alicia Puig

I was first introduced to PJ Linden’s work back in 2013, while I was interning at a gallery in Philadelphia. The then manager of the gallery was the proud owner of one of Linden’s trademark phone cases, so when I asked her where she had found such a unique cover she told me a bit about the artist “Wonderpuss Octopus” and I was intrigued. Fast forward to this year when I saw her memorable moniker pop up again at a group show, which prompted me to revisit her work. The same qualities that interested me years ago drew me in again: the texture, the precision, the craftsmanship, and the endless patience needed to execute her pieces. She has cultivated a style that is distinctively hers and made her own niche at the intersection of art, commercial work, and fashion.

Artist Statement

I have been adapting the use of dimensional fabric paint to create second skins or aposematic pelts for unconventional canvases for a while now. This process began with the sublimation of technology, transforming the common cellular flip-phone (I started pre-smartphone era) or camera into animate, hallucinogenic matter using patterns and textures found in nature, primarily aquatic life (shagreens of shark skin and stingray, urchin spines, and fish scales) and/or reptilian hides.

I work on five to ten different pieces at once (larger-scale works can take up to several hundred hours), rotating works, and building up paint layers to create a spiked, spinal effect. Each stroke is applied with a needle or eyedropper, a drop at a time. After six-to-forty-eight hours of dry time, I paint a new layer and repeat; applying the sequential tiers of acrylic is a bit like icing a cake. But the overall effect is a barbed pointillism entirely my own.

I’m exploring this kind of neo-pointillism meets my own futurist cabinet of curiosities, alluding to Ernst Haeckel’s Kunstformen der Natur (Art Forms in Nature), transfiguring the biological into the supernatural, connecting it with the saccharine, synthetic experience of consumer culture, this overflow of stimulation and color saturation in this sea of perfected, mass-produced products. People ask me if my works are machine-made, (no) but I think in a way I am playing with this running commentary about the factory artist—which what so much of high art has become—I am opposed to this system of art-overseer-directing-their-hired-hands—yes I (obviously) paint with my own hand, however obsessive and painstakingly detailed my process may be. It is important to be connected to the physical labor of art. What is creation when it’s outsourced?

Artist Biography

PJ Linden is a New York City and Pennsylvania based fine artist known for her abstract, three-dimensional work. She paints with machine-like precision, creating microscopic patterns on found objects, fashion, and technology.

Linden got her start working with Patricia Field, creating custom, one-of-a-kind art, and fashion under the name Wonderpuss Octopus. At Field's iconic, namesake boutique, Linden's work caught the eye of celebrity clients including Beyonce, Willow Smith, Kelly Osbourne, and Solange Knowles. Linden has since collaborated with and created pieces for Miley Cyrus, KidRobot, Norma Kamali, The CFDA, Alife, Sharon Needles, Pearl Liaison, Kiehls, Samsung, and Swarovski.

Her work has been featured in The New York Times, New York Magazine, Marie Claire Italia, Culture Magazine, Plastik Magazine, and PAPER Magazine. She has shown alongside art heavyweights such as Andy Warhol, Shepard Fairey, and Kenny Scharf, and has exhibited at The Hole Gallery, Bridgette Mayer Gallery, Reverse Space, Superchief Gallery, Art Basel Miami, The Museum of Sex, and The Museum of Ice Cream. She continues to work as an international muralist and the resident artist for The House of Yes.

So you were born in Bethlehem, PA. Pretty small town! Did you grow up there as well? Were you interested in art as a child and did you go on to study art?

Haha, yes. I was born in Bethlehem, PA, but grew up in the even smaller town of Canadensis, PA, which is nothing but rural woods. I was so isolated there, I craved the energy of big cities. Luckily, my parents, being artists themselves, were always driving back and forth from NYC, going to shows and openings, and that was very exciting for me growing up. But we’d get there and they would spend all day marathoning museums, and back then I hated how long my father would make me stare at an individual painting like a Mark Rothko, Julian Schnabel, Clemente, or Twombly and try to explain to me the art theory behind it or it’s cultural significance. I didn’t realize at the time that I was getting an informal education on art criticism and modern art history. So from an early age, I was forming all these opinions (usually a lot of exaggerated groaning and yawning) towards the minimalists and gestural abstract expressionist painters my parents loved, but to their dismay, I always gravitated towards contemporary masters of pop art like Lichtenstein, Oldenburg, Jeff Koons, Damien Hirst, and Warhol. At one opening I was handed a coloring book by Keith Haring. I’m really grateful for all these early art experiences. But I was so saturated in art at such a young age that I had an adverse reaction to it. I rejected making art because I wanted to rebel against my parents and I tried to differentiate myself from them. I also saw how much my parents both struggled to make a living by selling their work. So I was determined to never become an artist myself (though it was still impossible for me not to make art; I was in a sort of art-denial). Instead, I wanted to be an Olympic gymnast and trained every day, but I got a bad case of the ‘twisties’ (a kinetic mental block that happens to many gymnasts) and sort of just fell back into creating, it happened very naturally. Then, during high school, I began commuting to the School of Visual Arts once a week for life drawing class, and then I went on to attend there after graduation.

How did you become connected with Patricia Field? Is that when you first began experimenting with your textural style of painting? What was your experience working in this environment?

When I was a kid in the ’90s, attending art openings in Soho, I remember wanting to break free of the pretentious galleries and journey across the street into this rainbow underworld on West Broadway, Patricia Field Hotel Venus. I didn’t know what it was but I loved it! There were beautiful glamorous people with long eyelashes and platform shoes, smoking cigarettes, and eating sushi. At six years old I was entranced. It was a nice foreshadowing for my life to come. Then, in 2009, I was creating hand-painted wearable fashion accessories for Susanne Bartsch’s Shop inside the David Barton Gym on Astor Place. She had an overstock of these German gummy bear backpacks that she wanted artists to customize. I made a small collection of them and kept my favorite candy sprinkle coated one for myself. I remember wearing it into Patricia Field’s Bowery Boutique one afternoon and one of her beautiful people, Hiraku Morilla, saw the bag I was wearing and brought me downstairs to the legendary, cigarette smoke-filled basement office for an impromptu interview with Field. I became a regular vendor at the shop and was given the freedom to experiment with unconventional canvases and explore new pattern designs. I made countless candy-barnacle encrusted iPhone cases, pasties, bodysuits, swimsuits, balaclavas, bustiers, and dust masks. As a designer and vendor there, it was always exciting to swing by and chat with her stylists, who would fill me in on the fun stuff. They’d be like, “Hey PJ, Kelly Osbourne just bought the Royal Jelly Urchin iPhone case, or Willow Smith got the Dragon Eyes iPhone case.” And that’s sort of how everything evolved, it was all very serendipitous.

Can you explain where the name Wonderpuss Octopus came from and why you chose to use a pseudonym?

The pseudonym Wonderpuss Octopus seemed appropriate for a street art tag, a decidedly provocative, vaguely feminine, amorphous, and magical alias. The Wonderpuss Octopus is a real octopus, and somewhat of a shapeshifting wizard. It alludes to its predators by redistributing its color patterns and textures. It has a delicate appearance but can disguise itself as a series of venomous creatures, like a lionfish, sea snake, or banded sole flounder. I find myself in a similar performative dance, between working in various mediums, transforming my style from tiny textured spikes to smooth graphic murals. The clever exaction of hands or tentacles in motion is a reminiscent mirror of my gymnastics routines: practice until you create the illusion of perfection. The basic fundamentals of movement for an artist or Octopoda are quite similar; the most important principles are (1) the initiation of the movement (2) the control of that movement; and (3) the efficiency or perfection of that movement.

It is amazing that you have been able to reach such a varied audience through your various commercial projects and by working with several celebrities. Any collabs in particular that were memorable for you?

New York City is amazing for connecting with the collective conscience of people in the art, design, and fashion community. It actually becomes a very small world after many years and an ever overflowing, evolving pool of tireless artistic contemporaries.

The Unleashed Art Basel Miami Activation was a perfect blend of female empowerment and fine art, and I got to collaborate with Norma Kamali, painting one of her dresses to benefit Kara Ross’s non-profit organization that promotes and funds better educational opportunities for girls & entrepreneurship through microfinance for women.

The Miley Cyrus collaboration was exciting because there was absolute freedom. She was open to any and all interpretations of wearable art. I made a mini collection for her: a rainbow bloodshot slingshot bodysuit, a magic pelt lingerie set, and Neapolitan ice cream sundae pasties with a matching eyepatch which was used for the cover of Plastik Magazine (which was a really cool surprise!)

Painting the House of Yes (the infamous ‘best venue ever’ based in Bushwick, BK) is always a wild and unpredictable experience, I never know what they are going to ask me to paint next. It is female-owned and operated and I have been their unofficial artist in residence since their genesis is 2009, painting everything for them from vans to box trucks to a giant outdoor mural on the warehouse venue.

How long in total have you been making your neo-pointillist pieces? How has your work developed during this time?

I have been exploring the use of dimensional fabric paint to create second skins or aposematic pelts for unconventional canvases since 2005. This process began with the sublimation of technology, transforming the common cellular flip-phone (I started pre-smartphone era) or camera into animate, hallucinogenic matter, using patterns and textures found in nature, primarily aquatic life (shagreens of shark skin and stingray, urchin spines, and fish scales) and/or reptilian hides.

I continue to discover new possibilities of plastic mutations with paint and love to challenge myself by adding new levels of difficulty and intricacy to every pattern.

As your work is very involved and time-consuming, could you speak a bit about your process? What are a few things that are necessary for your creative workspace?

Yes, it is very time consuming and I never stop. I bring my work with me everywhere. I can set up a miniature studio easily. I always travel with a bag full of puff paint and tiny canvases just in case. I work on five to ten different pieces at once (larger-scale works can take up to several hundred hours), rotating works, and building up paint layers to create a spiked, spinal effect. Each stroke is applied with a needle or eyedropper, a drop at a time. After six-to-forty-eight hours of dry time, I paint a new layer and repeat; applying the sequential tiers of acrylic is a bit like icing a cake. I hate to admit it but what I think is most necessary in my studio after materials and paint is WiFi. I love to stream endless content while I paint, just to have some narrative going in the background, usually something that has a million episodes like SVU, or old classic musical show tune clips on YouTube.

Do you have one piece of creative advice that you would give the younger version of yourself?

Trust yourself.

What do you have planned for 2019? Any shows? projects? goals?

I have a few projects and collaborations that are still in the early stages and I’m not at liberty to discuss yet, but I am planning a new series of large scale murals. I recently finished a piece in Vicenza, Italy, called the ‘The Birds, The Other Birds’. All the new work will be re-envisioned interpretations of the classic scallop/fish scale pattern which I incorporate into most of my street art; an imperfect repeat pattern containing various subject matter such as gumdrops, diamonds, popsicles, nipples, etc. My other goal is the transformation of the mass-produced luxury consumer goods into barbed, crustacean sculpture. The more preciously branded the commodity, the better the ‘canvas’ for subversion. Currently, I am defacing a pair of brand new, perfectly white Louis Vuitton high tops, a pink suede Marc Jacobs clutch, and a vintage Fendi bag. I take great satisfaction in the disruption of machine-made perfection, redirecting the energy of the product design and the consumer’s desire for labels.