Interview with Allison as told to Gregory Jenkins
You refer to yourself as a “glitch artist.” What does that mean?
Glitch art is the practice of introducing errors into electronic works for aesthetic purposes. We may think of glitching as a super-modern phenomenon, observed (with horror!) when our laptops and tablets refuse to cooperate. But for decades, artists have been applying novel methods to interrupt and reconfigure signals with intention, leading to unexpectedly compelling visual outputs.
In recent years, with the advent of smartphones, digital art tools (like glitch apps) have become considerably more affordable and accessible. By embracing error—rather than pursuing polished perfection—I’m able to unearth unusual textures, forms, and colorways, imbuing my op art abstractions with a psychedelic life of their own.
You studied English and seem to have quickly moved to art. Tell us more about that transition.
You could say I glitched my way into glitch.
As early as I can remember, I’ve been on the writing path, and assumed that would always be so. (Exactly how? I did not know.) After snagging a notoriously useful English degree, I fell into marketing and advertising. By day, I was crafting precise articles, taglines, and ads with specific purposes, formats, and messaging. On my own time, I was experimenting with wacky jokes and wordplay, back when Twitter was a haven for weird indie comedy writers.
Both of those worlds began to collide when I was partnered up with graphic design colleagues. I’d sit next to them in their offices, essentially riding sidecar while they flowed my text into publication layouts. It clicked that typography could take my writing into the visual realm, as well as enable me to bring my virtual writing (which seemed to disappear without much audience or impact) directly to the public, in street art interventions that felt satirically subversive.
This bit of mischief coincided with the early days of Instagram, so—equipped with my iPhone 4S—I started to photograph this early street art, then turned to the glut of available filter apps. Somewhere along the way, I stumbled onto the app Glitché. Instead of simply adding aesthetic flourishes to my documentation, I began to veer into the opposite direction. And I veered hard.
Suddenly, I was (digitally) ripping apart, remixing, and reconstituting images that were once recognizable, but—through my exploration—wound up distorted to the point of abstraction. Unanticipated patterns, colors, and depth emerged; around every image I took, infinite potential seemed to bubble beneath the surface. I was hooked.
How has Somerville, the place and people, informed your work?
I consider my official stepping out as a visual artist to be ArtBeat 2013. That was the first time I committed to putting my art into the world in a physical way with my typographic street-art cards. True to that year’s theme of “micro,” the cards were miniature, but soon led to larger flyers and bona fide public art, thanks to the Nave Gallery’s phone art box project. (Real Davis Square–heads will remember that “Long Live Obsolescence” occupied a defunct phone booth on Chester starting in 2018, until it was rendered obsolete from new accumulated damage.)
Other ArtBeats have been meaningful in their own unique ways—like when I collabed with Ken Field on a big media wall and music performance in 2021, or the last couple when I vended with my fave tablemate, Alex Kittle (of Pan + Scan Illustration). I was also honored to receive a Somerville Visual Art Fellowship in 2019. And then there are numerous Small Marts, Yart Sales, Somerville Open Studios, SomerStreets, and Wicked Good Aht Mahkets that are centered in Somerville, where I’ve met so many fellow artists and art-loving locals.
When it comes to the feline elements of my craft, I had photography in the Somerville Copycat Festival at the Armory back in 2013, and have shared my cat stickers all over town. In more recent years, I’ve done a ton of cat-sitting in the area, particularly with the wonderful org Thoughtful Paws. Over the years, I’ve trekked to 50+ clients’ houses in West Somerville, coming up with my own walking routes to pass by intriguing houses or gardens, planning my own shows and projects, and even doing some quick glitching while hanging out with Somerville cats while their parents were away.
Looking back, so many experiments, phases, and inspiring milestones are tied to Somerville (and the Somerville Arts Council!). I’ve always felt very comfortable and encouraged to flourish here. I’m grateful.
You collaborate a lot; what’s the best thing about that? How does it influence your process?
The act of making glitch art is intrinsically collaborative—with the software (and those who built it), with source material, with myself. That same push and pull, and mashup of multiple qualities and personalities, is a through line in my collaborations with other Boston-based artists, too.
Especially fulfilling has been my optical installation duo bent/haus with Somerville artist Ben K. Foley. (You may have experienced Mistery Machine–our immersive cooling installation for Keep Cool Somerville that melded water vapor, video art, and live electronic music—at Chuckie Harris Park in summer 2021!) He has this next-level ability to dream up brain-twisting juxtapositions that challenge visual perception, repurpose unconventional materials, and are hypnotically satisfying to lose yourself in.
I’m eternally excited about collabs like that, where I can link up with folks who approach the work from completely different perspectives and disciplines. The interplay of form, function, context, viewer, purpose, scale, synchronicity… I learn so much from other creatives in terms of technique, problem-solving, and just exceptionally groovy ideas I never would’ve thought of myself!
How would you describe your community that supports you and your work?
Beyond syncing up with other visual artists, I’ve been psyched to connect with a variety of musicians within the local synth community. It felt like an effortless bridge from solo video art and animation to collaborative music videos and visualizers, where I delve even deeper into evocative rhythm, flow, narrative, and structure.
I’ve been lucky to develop videos, album art, and merch for local legends like Doug Bielmeier, Violet Nox, André Obrin, Cold Expectations, and Robin Amos (via our electronic music group The Square Root of Negative Two), as well as create light and video installations for Also Does Stuff events (with props to Camberville’s Vidumami for frequent conceptual team-ups and technical schemings). I’ve also made a few music videos with my own experimental tunes, but more serious music-making is for a future phase.
What mentors have influenced or inspired you?
Although I didn’t know where it would lead at the time, my college classes with video artist and filmmaker Elisabeth Subrin were formative. Learning about so much underground time-based art, and having the chance to try it myself, broke down the supposed barrier between dreamer and doer. (She also created the music video for Le Tigre’s “Well, Well, Well,” which is incredibly rad!)
On the exhibition side, curator Leonie Bradbury has been my gallery champion. She invited me to present my first big show at Emerson Contemporary, where I saw my work jump from a tiny phone screen to an all-over, multi-wall smorgasbord. The layout, event-hosting, technical setup, and presentation skills I developed from GlitchKraft coalesced into an express masterclass in how I could position my work and kickstart my career, in a style that was true to my vision, values, and ambition. Helen Popinchalk—director of the Trustman Art Gallery at Simmons, where I most recently exhibited GlitchKraft, and a fantastic artist in her own right—is included in my gallery supersquad, as well!
I’ve been majorly fortunate to have such talented, kind pros inspire and educate me. On the flipside, it’s vitally important for me to be a mentor, as well. I curate opportunities for Digital Soup’s art call feed, and am constantly keeping an eye out for underrecognized art-tech talent to bring into my exhibitions and events. If you (or someone you know) is into that sort of thing, get in touch!
Name one Somerville place that inspires you.
I’m totally enamored with New Alliance Gallery, part of New Alliance Audio and New Alliance East in Union Square. They’ve got the coolest setup, where they house recording studios, rehearsal space, artist studios, gathering areas for markets and get-togethers (shout-out to Beat Club, Boston Tech Poetics, and New England Synth Fest), and art exhibitions (like last year’s Synth-mas and this year’s Synth-tember). The energy is so positive; it really feels like an organic arts epicenter.
You’ve got some upcoming shows—tell us more.
Coming up fast is Future Fest on Saturday, August 3: a free public art extravaganza produced by MF Dynamics (helmed by one of my fave music and public art collaborators, Maria Finkelmeier). I did the retro-cyber branding, plus I’ll have giant psychedelic videos projected onto Boston City Hall. Tons of other mind-bending DJs, artists, and light installations will be filling up the plaza—and it’s free! You gotta come!
I’m also super stoked to have a rainbow-riffic music video screened at Superblue, the legendary immersive art destination in Miami, for the Chroma Art Film Festival. Then, in September, I’ll be connecting with my cat people at Witch City Kitty (including carpooling to Salem with the Somerville artist behind Molly Makes Cat Cans!).
Capping it off a couple weeks later, it’s Synth-tember at New Alliance Gallery. Ben and I will be showing several optical illusion collabs that we’ve shown throughout Massachusetts and Rhode Island, but oddly enough, never in Somerville. So this will be a fitting local debut.
For more info on Allison check out here:
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