Could you give us a little overview of your practice?

I spent my early 20s painting in Chicago for a decade. I moved to Los Angeles because there were a lot of working artists teaching in the region, and in LA, you really could find a large and affordable working space. I took my grad school there, and began shifting my practice to sculptural works.

What are the object, subject, or issues that you try to communicate through your works?

The subject matter that I've been dealing with have been revolving around the body. My wife had a kidney liver transplant, and that sort of gave me a revelation: how modern medicine could cut open a human body, replace an organ or two, stitch it up, and you're all fixed! That made me rethink about the human anatomy, the inner structure of our body, and how I visualise our organs and bones.

Your use of neon pigments are very striking. Why these colours?

Colours are so powerful. Looking at them is an abstract experience in itself. It's an intimate self-reflection: no one could dictate you on how to feel about any colour. I used ultramarine blues and concentrated oranges - artificial colours that you can't find in nature that bring out visceral sensation.

The Ghost Bones series (2018) are starkly black-and-white in comparison.

They are pieces of bones and fragments from the Grid Trip (2018) series - fragments from the collective unity. The sculpture lies between being an image and an object. By stripping all colours off the work, you are forced to see them as a form, to pay attention to its texture, shadows, and such. I love the glow behind the work - it brings out a wonderful visual phenomena.

You are very impacted by colours. What do you think of Mark Rothko's colour fields? I've heard that many people cried while looking at his paintings...

I get what you mean, but I've never really gotten into Rothko. I've seen a couple, and I’ve visited the Rothko chapel as well, but no, I've never cried. Yves Klein, though... Wow. When you stand in front of his work, all you see is blue. Even your peripheral vision would be so swallowed and drowning in his ultramarine blue. His pigment is so opaque, and the work really engulfs you.

I think that’s how we feel when we look at Grid Trip (2018). We love the scale and immersiveness of it. Could you explain more about this work?

I like to use lines to depict depth. It's very exciting to have this gallery to play with, and in Grid Trip (2018), I went to draw quick sketches and scribbles, and then blew it up real big. By propping the works on the patterned wall, you could almost feel the works start to disappear into the wall, into the fabric of space and time.

How about the work title - what does Grid Trip mean?

It’s a wordplay from trip. Y'know, feeling high and trippy and all? (laughs). Going on a 'trip' is like travelling into another dimension in your mind, into a new space in your head. It makes you... not-so-grounded.

Do you like sci-fi movies? What’s your favourite?

It’s gotta be 2001: A Space Odyssey. Have you watched it before?

No.

Oh, my God. You have to! It's so visual, the cinematography is so beautiful. It's conceptually brilliant. It talks about human enlightenment. The movie started with a bunch of primitive apes discovering this amazing black monolith, which is so clean and sleek, and reminds me of Donald Judd... When the apes picked up a bone, they realised it could be used as a tool, and then they went to use it to attack another tribe. The moment men is enlightened with intelligence, the first thing we decided to do is to kill. It’s so heart-wrenching. You should really, really watch it.

(laughs) I will. How about artworks? What are the works that blew your mind?

Guernica.<sup>1</sup> Without a doubt. It had such a huge impact on me... It's just completely mind-blowing. And this triptych by Matthias Grünewald - the Isenheim altarpiece. That one is just gnarly.

Sounds like you’d love Hieronymus Bosch, too.

Yeah! I'm a huge fan of the Northern Renaissance period, especially when I was a student. I didn't know much about modern art. It was always so confusing, like, what’s all this white canvas about? I just couldn't get it. But when I saw in real life, and really look into it... it was like I had an epiphany.

I think a lot of people would say that you have a really calm personality, in comparison to your loud artworks. Do you listen to music when you make art?

I tend to have two phases. I like a lot of 60’s rock - The Kinks is my favourite band. Sometimes, I'd need something more aggressive, like punk rock, or Nirvana. Other times I would listen to jazz and classical country. I like experimental jazz... The spontaneity and complexity is profound. Art-making should always be like that, you know? Spontaneous and continuously experimental. If you don't ever improvise, it's just gonna feel too much like work.

(We made a playlist of tunes that Aaron listened to during his residency in STPI.
Listen on Spotify here.)

Tell us more about your experience in working with paper.

In this residency, I speak a visual language that is translated into print and paper. My comfort zone has been within plywood and metal, and the pigment would sit on top of it. But with paper, the ink becomes one with the material. I really like it.

What's the most challenging part of your residency?

Jet lags. It's the hardest, really. But it's somehow a blessing in disguise. I'd wake up at 2AM and start working without anyone around. It's a serenity of its own.

How would you describe the atmosphere of working at STPI?

Sometimes it’s soothing and slow-paced. Other times, it’d be like, time to get to work and get things done!
...But I've never felt stressed here. The team has been very supportive of my process, and that's what really great about the them. They're always so understanding.

What are your thoughts on your STPI exhibition catalogue?

I must say, I really love this catalogue - I've been wanting to do a spiral-bound book for a long time! I worked together with STPI’s in-house designer, and she had a brilliant idea to create this optical illusion of a book pictured flat on the cover. It really speaks about the space between the two- and the three-dimensional that I've been working on.
We also created pop-up style imageries, with little paper windows that you can flip open. And at the end of the catalogue, there's a little do-it-yourself paper sculpture that you can punch out and slot in. It’s an extension of the show, where visitors can dig through it and discover things in itself.

You are spearheading your own publication company, Bad Dimension Press. What drove you to start on this venture?

I love books. You know those librarian duties of shelving returned books back to its place? I loved doing that. I'd take my time and flip through them, discovering people I never knew and works I've never seen through books. Everything is readily accessible through online reproduction now, but back then, you had to do a lot more work to discover things. That makes it feel more special.

That reminds me of your quote: to "turn off your phone and tune into art".<sup>2</sup>

People would see artwork in their phones, and I think the instantaneity of information is great, but we take it for granted. Nobody slows down to look into the work and enjoy it. People would go to museums, take a photo, and leave; but looking at an artwork on the screen is different. Being in the presence of it and to see what resonates with you - that's something irreplaceable.

I spent my childhood in Texas, and all that I've learned was through books. I've never seen art in real life until I came to Chicago. Opening a book is almost like a doorway to the larger world, and the physicality of it makes you feel much more connected than looking at the works through a screen.

Could you ever choose a favourite book?

...No. I have a library with some very gorgeous collectibles, but I can’t choose one out of everything - they’re all distinctive and very special on their own.

Last question. Are you a hoarder?

Yes. (laughs).