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8 Questions with Sarah K. Benning

March 4, 2024
March 9th we're turning our Cincinnati space into a gallery for House Plants a solo exhibition of the artwork of Sarah K. Benning. In preparation for the upcoming show, I picked Sarah's brain about everything from hot dogs to work/life balance. 
 Let's get the controversial stuff out of the way. Is a hot dog a sandwich?

Before I answer, let me tell you that I read these questions when you first sent them over and that night I had an incredibly vivid dream: I was filling out some not-real application for a Chicago transit pass and after the basics of name, DOB, occupation (none of which are necessary pieces of information to ride the CTA, lol), there was a question on the form that read, “Hot Dog or Hoagie?” It felt like there was only one answer that would result in permission to ride public transit in Chicago. In my dream, I answered hot dog. However, I don’t know that I would classify a hot dog as a sandwich. I think they are deserving of their own full category.
If you could live in a home from any TV show or movie, which home would you choose and why?

Wow! What an impossible question. Some days I could definitely see myself in the house from Ari Aster’s Hereditary (not the wild part at the end though), which is full of patterned wallpaper, rich colors, and woodwork. I also really do love midcentury house and furniture design, so maybe one of the sets from Mad Men or The Queen’s Gambit. But I wouldn’t actually want to be in any of those stories. Just give me all the color, pattern, plants, and textures please!
What's a hobby you'd like to learn and why?

For years I’ve been wanting to take a hand-building ceramics class. It’s something I’ve done before, but not since the early days of college. I have no excuse. My mother-in-law, Lori Rollason, is a spectacular potter with an amazing studio. I think I would enjoy working with a messy medium and something that responds so immediately to touch, even if there are still a lot of steps and time to go through before reaching a finished piece. I don’t really have any creative hobbies outside of painting/embroidery, which of course aren’t hobbies since they are my job—unless you count cooking and gardening. I think one could argue that they are hobbies, but they also feel a little more essential than just for fun.
What is the first piece of art that you remember creating as a kid? When did you know you wanted to become an artist?

I definitely cannot remember the first piece of art that I made as a child. I have always loved creating things and was so incredibly fortunate to be raised by moms that encouraged and supported my artists pursuits. I do remember making a lot of ‘sculptures’ from plastic and cardboard in our recycling. My moms referred to the bin as the ‘art supply store’ and encouraged me to repurpose and play with those materials. I think I always wanted to be an artist and was lucky to have grown up with adults in my life (not my parents, but other relatives and family friends) who were/are artists, so it always seemed like a real and viable option. I attended an arts magnate school in Baltimore City for high school and then continued on to get my BFA. I had odd jobs during and post college, but I’ve never had another career path outside of art and creative small business.
Your work usually features gorgeous houseplants. What draws you to such lush, leafy subjects? What's your favorite plant?

Lately, I’ve been drawn the most to plants with big, simple shapes that are highly patterned. But I think my first love is the monstera. The first one I ever cared for was rescued from a dumpster in 2014. Its name was Terror Pierre and it lived with me in many different homes and propagated many babies before I gifted him to friends in 2022. I love plants because they provide so much formal inspiration. The way they twist and stretch, the various patterns and textures, the spectrum of color potential is all very interesting to me. I also feel deeply bonded with my plants. Caring for them is a ritual each week that is restorative and inspiring to me.
Artistic folks often feel the need to monetize everything they make which usually leads to burn out. What part(s) of your creative life do you keep for yourself?

Hmmmm…as someone very much in burn out recovery right now, I’m not really sure. It’s such a wild process to be so incredibly committed to making something—like a studio practice or small business—work because you love it so much only to have it grind you down into dust. Of course, it’s capitalism that’s the problem, but it’s hard to not grow resentful of the creative pursuit itself. One thing I try to do for myself (though it also very much informs my studio work) is keep sketchbooks. Sometimes my sketches really are sketches—quick notes to myself to remember something I want to really make. But I also draw just for the fun of drawing. It feels luxurious to spend a few hours observing or imagining the world, and recording it casually with pencil in a sketchbook. I don’t think it’s a format that could be monetized, though I have had people as for prints of some of my for-fun drawings! I have not delivered.
What initially drew you to embroidery, and what is it that kept you coming back? Do you still feel as in love with it now as you did when it was shiny and new?

I found my way to embroidery after I left college. After eight years of art school, I wanted a break from making Fine Art with capital letters, but still felt it essential to have a creative practice. There is vast scholarship about the delineation between Art and Craft and who gets to do what and when and why. (The Story of Art Without Men, by Katy Hessel; Threads of Life, by Clare Hunter; and This Long Thread: Women of Color on Craft, Community, and Connection, by Jen Hewett are a few books that come to mind on the subject.)

My own feelings on these invented categories and hierarchies are always evolving, but back then I was drawn to the medium because it fell outside of parameters of my formal art education. I wanted to do something personal and just for fun as an outlet after work. I became obsessed and have been figuring out ways to cobble together a business and livelihood ever since so that I can just keep doing it as much as possible. And I do still really, really love the act of embroidery itself. I don’t always love all the other parts of making it my job. One thing that is changing though, ten years on, is my stamina and early stages of chronic pain from repetitive movements. I’m not sure embroidery is something I will always be physically capable of doing, but I will absolutely enjoy it while I can.
After over a decade of not just creating original embroideries, but also teaching and creating DIY patterns, you announced last year that you're transitioning away from the classes and patterns and focusing on creating original artwork. As you dive into this new phase, what ideas are you excited to explore? What's inspiring you?

Oh man! I oscillate between pure excitement for the vastness of possibility and absolute sheer terror at stepping out on a new path every other moment. Outside of the seeds that need to be sown to create a new-ish and sustainable livelihood, which is the work-work part that isn’t always super fun, I’m just trying to trust my intuition in the studio. Last October (2023), I had the opportunity to do a one-week residency with Noble Space in Toronto. I went in with a completely open mind except for the fact that I didn’t want to use the time working on work-work (which would have been pattern design and sampling). The results of that week were the birth of the House Plants collection. Since then, I’ve spent most of my studio time building on what I started. I know I am heading in the right direction when I catch myself smiling, dancing, and laughing as I work instead of feeling tired and burned out. It’s been really refreshing.

I would really love to work larger. Like a lot larger. It’s just really scary to do because it’s a risky investment of time, materials, and other resources without know how my community of collectors will respond. But so much of making art is practicing trust and having faith. So, I know we will figure it out!

Thanks to Sarah for letting us probe her mind for a moment! See her original mixed-media pieces this Saturday, March 9th at House Plants, gawk over her home and studio tour (it's gorgeous!), shop her available artwork, and follow Sarah's instagram for glimpses into her world.

March 1, 2024
I first came across Sarah's work a few years ago at Renegade Chicago, an outdoor market featuring artists and designers from across the country. I was on the hunt for a vibrant abstract print when Sarah's booth literally stopped me in my tracks. As a lover of clean lines and bright colors, her work wasn't my typical style, yet for some reason I couldn't look away. It wasn't just the obvious draw of her impeccable craftsmanship or rich texture of her stitches, it was the feeling that each piece invoked. There was so much detail, so much life, so much warmth. I wanted to climb inside her roomscapes, pull a beautifully-stitched book off the shelves, and sit nestled in the plant-filled living scenes while sipping cocoa. After following Sarah on instagram and getting glimpses inside her home, I quickly saw where her inspiration comes from. Sarah's home is as warm and meticulously curated as the scenes she stitches. The gallery walls feel like collections of memories pieced together; I can hear the plants gently rustling from an open window; the warm colors create a sense of calm and peace. As we prepare for House Plants , Sarah's March 9th solo-exhibition in our Cincinnati space, I'm excited to get an even larger look inside her home and studio. Below, Sarah shares her space. Enjoy! India
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