Selected works by Luc Fuller

Luc Fuller
Untitled (Clock Painting)


Acrylic on canvas

170 x 140 cm


Jan 2013, by Liv Siddall, It's Nice That

We came across Luc’s work a few weeks ago and didn’t know what to make of it, apart from knowing that we were certainly intrigued. Luc’s canvases tend to be pretty abstract, using the space around them to influence how you perceive the visuals actually on them. Experimenting with smoke machines, cameras and condiments, Luc’s methods are refreshingly unforced, and through a series of experiments he is building up an impressive collection of paintings that, as a series, are pretty beautiful. Luc was kind enough to answer a few questions about what he does.

Where do you work?
Most of my work is made in my studio here in Portland, Oregon. Recently, as I have been incorporating inkjet prints and photographs, a fair amount of time is spent on the computer editing or in the print lab trying to dial in the right colors and everything.

How does your working day start?
I start everyday with a cup of coffee, two pieces of toast, and two eggs. I make coffee for Stumptown, so if I have to open the café, I’m up at 4:30am, and get off at 1pm. I then try to have some lunch, take a power nap, and make it to the studio by 3pm. I’m so busy right now – working full time, finishing my thesis at the Pacific Northwest College of Art, and trying to have somewhat of a social life, that I can’t really spend more than a few hours at a time in the studio. Being busy is good for me though. The tight schedule helps me to be focused and productive when I am in the studio, and as a result I think my work is improving.


May 12th 2014, Rod Barton, Mousse Magazine

Rod Barton is pleased to present Standing Paintings, a solo exhibition by Luc Fuller.
The question of originality becomes increasingly relevant in light of Wu-tang’s recent decision to release only one physical vinyl record to accompany their latest album release The Wu – Once Upon a Time in Shaolin. In an attempt to question the possibility of a unique object in an age of endless reproduction, re-mixing, and re-appropriation, the coveted vinyl will be sold for millions as a privately collectable cultural artifact. The paintings in Standing Paintings also look to ubiquity, distribution, and Wu-Tang for that matter, but specifically the symbol. Made in reference not necessarily the clan itself or their music, but in dialogue with the image of the ‘W’ and the way it has flooded the collective memory. The Wu-Tang symbol functions as one of the most recognizable, coded icons of the last few decades, it originally developed for the group in 1990 by New York based DJ Mathematics. The ‘W’ and its appropriation spans demographics and places and can be found carved into trees, drawn on notebooks, tattooed on bodies, or commoditized onto t-shirts and hats.
It in this circulation exchange, the removal of the symbol from its origin and its proliferation in multiple variable forms, which the paintings themselves run parallel. The works, standing in the center of the room, are removed from the walls. Quite literally rejecting the wall’s support, and the associated historical lineage of painting as a window on wall, the standing paintings occupy the floor and become architectural in and of themselves. As a labyrinth of symbols demarcating potential paths through the space, interrupting views of one another, and revealing themselves in the round, the standing objects, perhaps like members of Wu-Tang, are simultaneously singular, and nevertheless always positioned within a network of reference.


June 5th 2014 by Anna-Lena Werner, Artfridge

40 "Standing Paintings" currently occupy the floor space of Rod Barton's gallery in London, each displaying the outlines of Wu-Tang Clan's symbol "W" on their front side. They were created by 1989-born American artist Luc Fuller, who employs his art to explore cultural appropriation, the merging of sub- and high-culture and eventually in the meaning-production of signs, arrangements and exhibition formats. While painting is a medium commonly defined by its spatial distance to its spectators and its status as an object on a wall that is to be observed, Luc inverts this scheme and incorporates his paintings in an environment, rendering them into a "democratic" pattern. Visitors thus walk through the paths formed by his works, they enter a scene of art – a painting-scape. Also in other exhibitions that Portland-based Luc did, he repeatedly questions the classic terms of installation, materiality and space – everything is, as he once said, in "flux". In our interview with the artist, Luc told us about why and how Wu-Tang Clan's symbol is a part of his work, his fascination with subcultures and about his playful and similarly ambitious approach of reconsidering exhibition formats.

Luc, your exhibition concept is quite special: The amount of your paintings seems to form an environment or a labyrinth, rather than following a classic installation. Why did you decide to withdraw paintings from the wall space, and instead place them on the floor?
I initially got the idea when I was working on a piece for a group show at Outpost. This is a project space in Glasgow, which was curated by the London- (and soon to be Berlin-) based artist duo Peles Empire. They wanted the entire show to occupy the floor of the gallery without anything on the walls. When I heard this, a lightbulb went off immediately. I told them I wanted my painting to stand upright in the middle of the floor. When Rod Bartonasked me to do the solo show at his gallery, I wanted to take the same concept, but see how far I could push it.
I think the standing paintings achieve something that traditional painting installations do not. For one, there is a different kind of relationship to the body when you encounter the objects in three-dimensional space. You become more aware of your own body. The paintings become bodies as well: vulnerable, awkward, and with a frontside and backside. This simple gesture shifts the lineage of painting-as-an-authoritative-statement on the wall to something much more democratic, and I suppose playful.

Many of your works are also coloured or patterned on their rear side. Do you consider your paintings to be sculptures?
I am not sure how necessary it is for me to categorise them as either. What is a painting? What is a sculpture? If I had to, I would say they are paintings disguised as sculptures, or sculptures disguised as paintings. It doesn’t really matter. But as objects on the floor, I think we are forced to see them more objectively. The coloured fabrics on the back are more formal than anything. They may reference color-field painting, fashion or uniforms.