Winter 2025 Artist of The Season

 

This winter’s Artist of the Season, Jeff Wallace, repurposes books and found materials to create sensitive color studies and meditative collages. His tactile, process-driven practice excavates history, favoring materials with timeworn details — faded spines, foxed pages, and personal inscriptions. Splitting his time between New York and southern Italy, his work captures the vibrant energy of the city and the rich textures of Italian life, inviting viewers to reflect on the stories objects carry.

Original works and edition prints are available for purchase throughout the show.

 

NAME: Jeff Wallace

INSTAGRAM: @jeffwallace_nyc

PLACE OF BIRTH:  LaFayette, New York

CURRENTLY RESIDING: Dumbo, Brooklyn and Lecce, Italy

STUDIO MUSIC: Gregorian Chant

STRESS RELEASE: A lake... anywhere

ROUTINE OR SPONTANEOUS: Adaptable

 

How has your art evolved or changed over the years? 

Early on, I realized that I am a doer. I am prolific because I don’t let things linger—I lack the patience for that. Once I finish a painting, I rarely revisit it. I prefer to figure things out independently and embrace an active, process-driven practice. Engaging directly with materials—seeing and touching them—is essential to my work.

 

You often work with vintage papers. What drew you to start collecting and creating with books?

My practice began in 2012, as elderly relatives started showing signs of declining health and memory loss, leaving me to manage their personal effects—correspondence, photographs, and ephemera. 

Books were a significant part of these collections. I was initially drawn to the physical object itself—particularly the covers, which offered a source of found color, often time-worn or distressed. As I delved deeper, I discovered markings inside the books: inscriptions, doodles, annotations. Each detail told a story.

Disassembling these books became a meditative process of forensics or detective work—much like sifting through family papers, uncovering histories, and piecing together stories anew.

 

How do you select your books? Is there a particular history or aesthetic you look for?

Covers are always cloth or quarter-bound. I pay special attention to the spine, the color, the wear. And then I go inside... first to the publishing date, favoring books pre-1970. Inside, I look for unique markings, discoloration, or foxing of the paper; library books with multi-dated checkout cards; books marked 'withdrawn;' or special dedications.

It's never a particular subject or title. It's the look and feel of the parts that interests me. That's where the selection begins.

Interestingly, I seldom take apart books on art.

Are there other mediums or techniques you’d like to explore next?

Although I primarily use paper and books in my work, I consider myself a materialist. I don’t try to control the medium; instead, I let it behave naturally. Paper, for instance, fades, curls, and stains, and I like to embrace these qualities.

Currently, I’m working with repulped pages from discarded books, creating paintings with pigmented pulp. I’m fascinated by how the colors transform, becoming muted, and how the fibers bleed and bind together.

Last summer, I began working with clay in my studio in Lecce. This led to a collection named after the street I worked on: Via Adua. I plan to continue exploring ceramics and glazing techniques in both my Red Hook studio and my next studio in Puglia.

 

COFFEE ORDER: Macchiato

FAVORITE COLOR: Low chroma, distressed, and found colors.

MORNING PERSON OR NIGHT OWL: I prefer to watch the sunrise

 

Do you ever feel creatively ‘stuck’ and, if so, how do you work through it?

I’ve always had trouble starting. My friend and mentor, Nick Todisco, had a mantra: “Work, work, work.” It’s indelibly stamped in my mind and often pulls me out of moments when I feel stuck. Once I get into it— putting pencil to paper, assembling pieces of paper into a collage, or rolling out clay and pinching it into a vessel—the work begins to flow, and new ideas follow.

 

What advice would you offer to someone looking to work with found or historic materials?

Objects can hold value, but nothing should be considered too precious. Not everything will be a masterpiece.

Finding books or objects is integral to my work. I need to touch them, examine them, take them apart, and explore how to give them new life. This tactile interaction connects me to the object, bridging its 'as is' state with its 'what was.' Through this process, I gain an understanding of the object’s journey and history, as well as a sense of the people who created or handled it before me.

 

How does sharing time between New York and Italy influence your work?

It took me a while to wind down from a lifetime in New York City and embrace the rhythm of life in southern Italy. In New York, anything can happen at any time, and it's available to us 24/7. In Italy, the days begin and end later, with a three-hour break in the middle. Everything closes. Errands need to be scheduled.

Italy allows me time to sit and consider things more—which is not always a positive in art-making. Still, the tones, textures, and rich history of southern Italy, along with its landscapes, have undeniably found their way into my work.

 

What or who has inspired you lately?

I am inspired by the positive energy and support of my friends.

I admire my older friends, who have spent a lifetime making art and continue to create with fresh ideas and innovative approaches. I’m equally inspired by my younger friends—emerging artists full of 'hustle,' who are boldly putting themselves out there and taking risks.

Is there a particular feeling or message you hope your work conveys?

I want the viewer to experience both a palpable sense of history and a sense of calm and balance, achieved through the found color and craftsmanship. The materials should feel familiar, yet still offer opportunities for discovery. 

I view my work as an homage to the journey of these materials—to those who have created them, touched them, or lived with them.

Your ideal day:

I love making work and figuring things out on my own. Often, my ideal day includes just that—that 'work work work' ethic is ingrained in me. I find absolute joy in accomplishment.

But, answering the question right now, in winter, I would have to say my ideal day would have me alone on a mountain, sun out, cold, and doing as many double-diamond ski runs as physically possible to feel exhilarated and exhausted simultaneously.

THANK YOU, JEFF!

 

Jeff will have original works and edition prints for sale throughout the show.