Interview: Andrew D. McClees on his practice and XURC
Tell us about the project.
XURC is the follow-up to a zine "Crux" I shot in 2016 and printed in 2017. The core conceit of Crux is that it explored abstract photography and the idea of decision points or reaching a "crux" if you will, and using very geometric multiple exposure compositions to tell the story of the decisions you make (and the internal debates you have) when growing out of post-grad life into actual real adulthood.
XURC is essentially Crux upended, lit on fire, and thrown out of a building - I had a pretty difficult couple of years pretty much immediately following the printing of Crux -- my best friend died by his own hand, another friend died the same way maybe two months later, and I aged out of my parents' healthcare so I quickly found myself without a psychological support system. I was deep in grief, on top of my own pre-existing predilection for depression.
In 2019 I finally managed to sort of "rediscover" Crux, and began to think - "what if I could push this one step further, broaden it, make it a bigger show, to reflect that deeper, more intractable depression tinged with grief?" XURC is that advancement on the ideas I was experimenting with in Crux, but most definitely something all its own.
What is your process like?
Generally: Always carry a camera, find time to shoot as much as possible.
The specifics do vary according to the project though - right now, I'm working on a documentary project about Lewiston, Maine - that's a very very different shooting process than it was for XURC - for XURC and Crux it was very much a documentation of living in a five-block radius from my apartment, constantly carrying a 35mm SLR with me, and forcing myself to attempt to make at least three to four compositions or constructions a day based on the architecture I came across and how I was feeling.
During XURC I started to challenge myself to try and make images out of the textures and sights I'd see when I looked down at the pavement - most likely the thing I stared at most - alongside the Art Deco skyscrapers of DTLA.
I make the more complex forms via multiple exposures in-camera, through a practiced form of previsualization where I make the "flops" in my head to get the compositions and constructions I want. After I make as many different constructions as I can, I go through and pick out the ones closest to what I had in mind, and that evoke the strongest response in me.
After I develop the film by hand, I occasionally intentionally damage or rough up the negatives - in this case, I used a sewing needle to intermittently write words or messages into a few negatives (like the XURC on the cover), then scan it and make zines or books, or let the images sit around on my hard drive for years on end. If I'm lucky I go print in a darkroom - though the XURC negatives would be a tough job to print.
Does mental health or wellness factor into the creation of your work?
Yes -- in much of my work mental health is very much a theme or subtheme - usually bog standard depression, and since 2017 - Grief. In terms of actual working process, that too - I do have days where I have a hard time doing much of anything, or really remembering much of anything - or I'll find myself getting hyper fixated on a singular concept and accidentally burning an entire roll on "nothing." I try and either lean into or navigate out of my depression - depending on the project, and where I'm at.
How did you begin this project?
I needed to get out of my habit of really intensely same-y street and urban landscape photography. I found myself doing a lot of nice, but boring new topographic style work - but wanted to do something unique, and visceral, even if it seemed gimmicky on paper, just to upset my standard practice of methodical observation and composition.
Was the process of creating this project helpful for dealing with the emotion you’re describing in your images?
No, not directly.
I know that probably sounds like a downer of an answer, but bear with me: I tend to process my illness by thinking more than feeling - I'm not a great "feeler" if you will - so I tend to get caught up repeating the same thought or argument over and over and over in my head until I finally crack it, even if it's something that's more emotional. While I'm really proud of my work with XURC - it's more a representation of me working out my issues, depression, grief, or otherwise than something intrinsically therapeutic or working through my depression via art. However, committing time and energy into making art that cemented the internal work I was doing helped me not to remain in a deep depression.
How are you affected by the natural world that you see day-to-day?
I'm not? or like, I tend to see the world more as a set of information to be understood and processed, then rephrased and explained. That said, I do have a gnawing instinct to return to nature, which I've been exploring more recently.
What is your relationship to photography?
It's my primary mode of expression and creation - I'm not really sure what I'd be doing without it. It's the best and most direct way I know to make art that's like life, but also impose my own view on a world I create in my images.
Has the pandemic shifted the way you approach your work and/or photography at all?
Sort of -- at the beginning of the pandemic, as lockdowns were beginning to roll out, but had not hit LA yet, I made the decision to get out of LA and leave my windowless studio apartment, because the idea of spending 20 hours a day minimum in an eight foot cube with no real light or company or air for a minimum of three months, seemed way too close to an extended period in solitary confinement for my taste.
So I left, and came back to Maine. That's been a huge change - but my working process is very much the same: Carry a camera as much as possible, shoot as much as I can.