Continuously Repurposing: Interview with Visual Artist, Nathan Edwin McClements
Nathan McClements is a Charleston-based visual artist, musician, and vintage pop-up shop owner.
In his work as an artist, Nathan gives new life to recycled and used materials by creating unique paintings and mixed media art. I was inspired by the way he shows what's possible in repurposing materials and the lessons we can draw from constantly striving to repurpose ourselves.
In the interview, Nathan shared a story with me about his Dad that stuck with me. He spoke about an old gas station that his dad repurposed into a workshop for his work as a stained glass artist. I saw it as a metaphor for what’s possible when we continuously explore and stay open to repurposing - we find beauty in new places and create lives that are uniquely ours.
In the interview, Nathan and I spoke about how he is creating his own version of a “gas station stained-glass workshop.” We chatted about:
His evolution from musician to painter and visual artist
How he changed his relationship to creativity
Divorcing money from creative expression
What he’s learned from continuously repurposing
What’s next for him
Note: The following interview has been lightly edited for clarity and length. While every effort has been made to preserve the integrity of the conversation, please be aware that the quotes may not be verbatim but reflect the essence of the dialogue.
What are you up to in life right now?
I have the most beautiful studio that I got back in April when I signed a two-year lease. I had been at a residency in town just before I signed onto this place. It very much felt like I was taking on a new residency, just for a much longer term. I've been getting away with creating in here and existing. It feels like a dream to have this space dedicated to creation with no rules. In my work, everything is a prototype for something else. Everything is growing into something else. I feel like this is the kind of space where I can gather up a bunch of tools for the future and work out things that I need to tune into. It’s all motivation for more to come.
Sounds like an amazing space. As I was preparing for this interview, I read a really fun piece on you in CanvasRebel which talked about your evolution as an artist. You went into music after college, found your way back into visual art during the pandemic, and now have this studio space. Can you talk more about how you got here?
I’ve wanted to create my whole life. I was never a good student. I was super insecure about not being up to par with what the academics were asking for. During college, I started playing more music and focusing more on that. When I finished school, I moved to Charleston and I realized it was a great place to play as much as I wanted to play. I could play every single day of the week if I wanted to, and make a humble living. I mean a very, very humble living off of it. It was extraordinary to get paid to sing my songs, but with that grind comes other hustles. I was bartending on the side, running a vintage clothing pop-up, as well as doing different things to keep those creative projects alive. I realized what I was capable of as an entrepreneur. I’ll do whatever it takes to not have a normal job!
The pandemic wiped out the music gigs. I was really determined to explore painting and explore visual arts so I started painting on recyclables I had lying around. I painted on my old vinyl record sleeves from my music merch, anything I could find. It wasn't to show anybody and it wasn't to sell. It wasn't to do anything but to get the work out of me. Each piece inspired the next. I was so much happier doing those pieces than anything else. To see them lying there when they had every chance to not exist became this bit of magic that inspired more. Over the past couple of years, I’ve been showing more work and feeling that inspiration from the encouragement of others. I’m getting connected with other artists in town and realizing how limitless it feels to create. All that creating is inspiring other stuff like my music writing. It's made me a better person. Visual arts has been a lifesaver.
It sounds like you’re relationship to creating has changed a lot with your inspiration coming from creating just for the sake of it. What enabled that shift for you?
I’ve always had this vision of repurposing things. This vision of enabling things to have another life. In finding new homes for clothing, the fabrics themselves started to inspire me more. It was seeing things that easily could be interpreted as trash or waste, and being determined not to see them go to waste and give them a new life. During the pandemic, I saw all these boxes being shipped, all of these seemingly wasteful things. I was really determined to preserve things in a beautiful way or a fun way. I think it was just the start of me exploring with color and how basic everyday items could stand out as so much more. I was inspired by my surroundings.
I work with a lot of people who are doing something creative and on the cusp of sharing their work publicly for the first time. What advice do you have for people who are right there on the cusp but afraid to put their work out there?
I was so surprised and encouraged by the reaction when I started sharing my work. It’s a wild thing to step out into that space but I encountered so many unexpected, wonderful circumstances because of it. The work wasn’t going to sustain itself if I didn’t start sharing. The feeling of being on track with things and having something that previously wasn’t there become a piece of art that a stranger is now attached to was really remarkable. The encouragement helped create a massive cycle of making things, and those prototypes became their own kind of encouragement. The process of sharing your work just becomes the building blocks for your career. Sharing has been so important for me. It allows me to move on to more pieces. If I don't share something, then I can get hung up on it for too long. It’s a release for me.
The sharing becomes the point of inspiration for the next thing.
Yea, a lot of it comes from a weird creative space, but a lot comes from that encouragement from others and how accepting people have been. It’s a kind of stamp for me. I work on a lot of pieces at once. Having these symbolic moments of closure with the pieces is really remarkable.
You are increasingly creating in front of other people at residencies and your own studio. What has that process been like for you?
My first residency was last February at an art center called Redux. It was the first time I’d created in front of other people. During the pandemic, I was very closed off and locked in. The experience I had at Redux was very substantive - I was living in my van and spending every bit of time in that studio just creating and having other people witness that every day. It was so energizing for me. It just felt so good to have something different to show the next day. I've stepped into something really groovy that we can all access to certain degrees. I think we all have a bit of creativity in us but a lot of people hesitate when accessing that freedom. I want to show other people how free it feels for me.
My studio is growing into a space that I can bring people to. I love having potential buyers hanging out. I love having photographers here. I've had the dreamiest photographers documenting my whole process and becoming part of the collaboration. I'm able to see how the space changes throughout this lease. It’s been fun to have people in there brainstorming with me. It’s a big, old space that is demanding me to create and calling for me to do so. I think this space itself has a way of inspiring other people as well. It’s like grown-up show and tell.
You’ve demystified a lot of aspects of being an artist as we’ve been talking. One thing I’m always interested in asking people about is the concept of making money. A lot of people get stopped from pursuing art or creative dreams by the fear of, “How will I make money?” What’s your perspective? What would you say to them?
I mean, we can't take any of it too seriously. Art is a crazy thing. The value is always changing and it's super fickle. It can change based on a homie’s discount or if a piece seems capable of selling for more. It’s weird. If people come to the studio and buy multiple pieces, the price is always changing.
I can create something and then after selling that piece, I create another piece. You start living in this weird space of, “Well, is it worth that money? Is this new piece worth that much?” As far as creating goes, I think you have to take away any kind of financial bit. Stripping that away from your creative process completely, and then afterward just recognizing what that piece meant to you. I believe in coming up with prices that feel good and reflect your experience during the making of that piece. Then come up with prices that encourage you to do it again.
When things sell for too high, it can put me in a tricky headspace for creating the next thing. I think it’s important to keep it organic and slow-moving. I'm 2 years in and I've had a lot of other people help me out with that. I’m hoping as this thing progresses that I’ll have more people that I can count on for those sorts of things. I’m no good with money. I’m not good at selling - I know someone else can get a higher price point than I can.
I’m not sure if I gave any advice there but what I would say is “Don’t take it too seriously. You are capable of making more. You’re capable of continuing on outside of what one piece does.”
I make so many things at once. It’s too fun to fail. If I make enough of something, then it can spread more and more and I'm not as concerned about the prices going up. I'm just so thrilled that the pieces are going out.
I'm very interested in the longevity of this, and I think that's going to come from exploration and from trying new things over and over again. I'm not as jazzed about doing a particular style because it will be enjoyed by other people. I think that's when you get into this tricky plateau status or you get in these funks based upon doing something too much for somebody else's enjoyment. I’m not able to do commissions for that reason. I don’t have much desire for it. I don't feel like my soul's in it nearly enough. It brings back a lot of insecurities that I used to deal with around whether this thing's good enough for what they're paying or what they're wanting. What I create is for my exploration. I have to continue changing that up because I’m in it for the long haul. Maybe I’ll narrow my focus at some point but for now, it’s about trying everything.
One thing that struck me in your work, and in how you seem to live your life, is the way in which you’ve brought all of these different parts of yourself together and allowed them to inspire each other. I’m thinking of your music, visual art, the vintage pop-up. What was it like for you to create the space to allow for those different parts of yourself to interact with each other?
It goes back to just how substantial it feels to repurpose something and give it new life. Those past lives that I lived gave me something to repurpose. For example, my vinyl records from my music. They were these blank white sleeve 10-track records that I made in my parent’s basement 13 years ago. I had boxes of them lying around. Being able to paint on those and repurpose something that had been hanging over my head for so long was really neat. I wasn’t into the record anymore, and I had a hard time giving them away because I felt like I’d grown so much as a musician since they were made. I didn’t have another way of showing it because I wasn’t interested in making another vinyl. So being able to paint on them and use them as scrap material was incredible. I’ve been able to sell more vinyls as a painter than I ever did as a musician, which is just absurd. And now it’s encouraged me to do it again. I’ve come to the end of these vinyls and I plan to make a new one and a better one. Then I’ll paint on all the new Vinyls in the same way. It’s a repurposing of self. It’s about not being down on yourself for certain moments. It was a flop of a record and I could have been really down on myself for it, but now I’m excited about documenting it and what I was capable of doing.
It’s the same with vintage. It’s using these materials to my advantage the best ways that I can, not wasting them, and not giving up on the belief that they were something substantial, that they are capable of more. To incorporate these fabrics that I got 10-15 years ago into quilts and paintings and different things has been a neat way for me to view my history and my dedication to things that I love. I love the idea of repurposing self and the pivots that we’re capable of doing outside of our normal day-to-day tasks. We can still change things up in a way that inspires more for us. Repurposing self is my favorite thing.
You seem to have created this life that is uniquely yours. How would you describe this life that is uniquely Nathan?
I know how rare it is. I see my homies doing similar things to me, but they have kids and have these major responsibilities and big things that I just don’t have right now. It's super rare to have this much time on your hands. I love being inspired by just how good I have it. I’m going to take advantage of it. I still feel like I’m getting away with something. I’m realizing that living can be a lot easier. I’m stopping to smell the roses a lot more. I’m drawing inspiration from things that I’ve allowed myself to stop and see. This isn't the end. These are just really special moments that I'm putting into my pocket and drawing inspiration from.
My dad was an amazing stained glass artist. He didn't do it much while I was growing up, but I always heard about this old gas station that he had for his stained glass shop. I romanticize the idea of it over and over and over again. There’s a little bit of heartbreak that my dad had this beautiful space that he did this beautiful craft in, and then we all came along and he got rid of the space and didn't do his craft anymore. It's a bummer to think about, even though he's very content doing the things that he's done. I'm in a moment where I'm in that space and I don't want to steer too far from it. I want to keep growing in this way. I want more of the old gas station that’s a stained glass shop. I’m inspired by what my dad was able to do out of that space, and the curiosity he had for learning a new craft. He built a real thing out of it, and I hope that with his retirement he starts making things again.
What’s next for you?
I’m in this space for another year and a half. I'm not trying to put too much pressure on anything after that. The idea of this space being a Residency coupled with the other residencies that I’ve had has inspired me to seek out more experiences like this. The world is full of residencies and full of people who want you to come do your thing and show off what you’re creating. I love the idea of showing that I can create, no matter what gets put in front of me. I love that challenge within it. I think I missed out on a lot of big world travel most of my life, and I aim to do that as much as possible. I aim to explore places and see this version of myself in those new places.