Fanni Somogyi: Interspecies Connections
Janus. 2021. Powder coated steel, soil, cactus. 13” x 12” x 8”
Cross Pollinations. 2021. Steel, laser cut acrylic, adhesive. 12” x 14” x 23”
Euphoric Glitch. 2021. Steel, polyurethane, faux flowers, silicone, acrylic paint. 12” x 14” x 4”
Day-Dreaming for Another World detail shot 1. 2021. Multimedia installation in Morganton, NC. Each critter is ~ 13” x 12” x 15”
left: A Sense of Being. 2022. Steel, epoxy clay, spray paint, dried celosia cristata, mirror, Spanish moss. 8” x 7” x 1” / right: Hatched in Soft Pinks. 2023. Steel, polyurethane, felt, silicone, insulating foam, wire, paint. Photo credit: Camille Desanto
View of Sticky Entanglements at Transformer in Washington, DC. 2023. Central green sculpture is Sprouting Fingerling. 2023. Steel, aluminum, copper, paint. 28" x 23" x 15"
View of Sticky Entanglements at Transformer in Washington, DC. 2023. Sculpture on the table from left to right: Janus 2021, Blooming to Elsewhere 2021, Potroh Parazita 2023. Artworks in the background by Beth Yashnyk. Photo credit: Camille Desanto
Cross Species Connections. 2021. Bronze, steel, flocking. 13” x 14” x 19”
Website: fannisomogyi.com
Instagram: @fanni_somogyi
Sculptor Fanni Somogyi describes herself as a “sponge that endlessly soaks up its surroundings.” Utilizing everyday and sometimes unexpected objects like walnuts, scrap metal, and turtle shells, Somogyi explores themes of cross-pollination, hybrid creatures, and speculative scenarios in her three-dimensional work. After falling in love with the infinite possibilities of sculpture, Somogyi began investigating how she affects her ecosystem through her art and often uses her uncanny assemblages as vessels for new stories and metaphors for making connections with others.
How and when did you know you wanted to be an artist?
My journey of becoming an artist hasn’t followed a straightforward path. Growing up, my parents were always encouraging of my passion for art and they often took me to museums. Surrealist exhibits, in particular, left an indelible mark on me. While I loved crafting, painting, and making jewelry as a kid, I didn’t really see it as a viable career option and only came to the realization after several years in college.
I was also captivated by social and environmental issues and I decided to focus on those initially. I attended Vassar College in Poughkeepsie for two years and focused on sociology while taking some studio art classes. In the Sculpture I class, however, something just clicked. Working three-dimensionally resonated with me on a profound level, evoking a sense of belonging and familiarity.
It dawned upon me that making is what I wanted to do and what I had to do. I was still somewhat hesitant to fully pursue art, but in the summer of 2014, a friend’s brother asked me why I was making “being an artist” Plan B if that’s what I truly wanted to do. I realized that I decided to put art on the backburner without even giving it a shot and his comments really resonated with me. Vassar College only offered a couple of general sculpture classes so I decided to transfer to the Maryland Institute College of Art to focus on making sculptures. There I took ceramics, woodworking, and fiber classes, and I learned how to work with metal. I fell in love with the infinite possibility of sculpture and the Millermatic 252 welding machine.
Where do you find inspiration for your work?
I feel like a sponge that endlessly soaks up its surroundings. I get excited by a lot of things, like fuzzy plants or twigs shaped like talons or green bugs that I encounter. Sometimes I focus on small details like an ant teetering around, and sometimes I stare up at trees hoping to spot a firefly. I like finding and keeping random trinkets, and it's amusing how my coworkers have begun to bring to me weird objects, like a turtle shell, dried walnuts, or a scrap piece of an aluminum beam, some of which get incorporated into sculptures.
I also try to make time for walks in forests and meadows. I often visit Lake Roland Park and Patapsco State Park in Baltimore. The sound of wind rushing through leaves feels meditative. Last summer, while I was hiking in Culpeper, VA a tiny green bug that looked exactly like a small leaf landed next to me. It teetered around and then poof, it disappeared. Strangely, I was carrying “How Like a Leaf,” a book-length interview between Thryza Nichols Goodeve and Donna Haraway, which had a passage where Haraway compared lines and veins in her palm to that of a leaf. I was awestruck by the bug and the coincidence and it has been in my thoughts since. I’m currently curating a five-person show that’s based on speculation and hybridity that was sparked by this encounter.
I’m also drawn to researching ecology, astrobiology, and science fiction more in-depth. It is safe to say that I can find inspiration in almost anything. Play is an important part of my practice because it lets me explore and find new and meaningful forms.
What themes do you explore in your work?
The themes that I explore in my work are cross-pollination, hybrid creatures, and speculative scenarios. Through biomorphic metal and plant assemblages, primarily I investigate interspecies connections to understand how I affect non-human beings and the ecosystem, and my embedded connection within the lived environment.
Be it singular objects or installation work, my uncanny assemblages are vessels for stories and metaphors of connections. I’m drawn to creating a speculative landscape with lifeforms that resemble beings on Earth but are not quite from here.
Cross-contamination is also a reoccurring idea since it lets me talk about how we affect other beings. I tend to make sculptures either wall hanging or free-standing because I’m drawn to building three-dimensionally and I love playing with textures. I have increasingly become obsessed with a high level of finish that is possible through patience, technique, and care.
To build my objects, I predominantly use steel and aluminum, and I combine these vessels with cast polyurethane elements and cacti, mosses, and micro greens. Steel contrasts with the more organic bulbous cacti. I enjoy the contrasting interaction of these materials, and after the work is finished it becomes an object that I continue to care for. Just like the gourd elements in Euphoric Glitch and Potroh Parazita remind me of the human body, cacti feel like living sculptures.
I’m interested in how we can be vessels for other beings, some beneficial and some harmful. Bacteria reside on our skin and live in our bodies. The pandemic has also demonstrated that the boundaries of our bodies are more permeable than we think. Thus, I build beings that defy categorization. In this manner, they act as a symbol of collaboration. When looking at my work as the viewer suspends their disbelief, thoughts of metamorphosis, change, and nature can enter their minds.
How do you start a new piece?
There are two ways that I could start a piece: one is more methodical and the other is more spontaneous.
For example, Cross Pollinations was more methodical. I had been reading Octavia Butler’s Lilith Brood and Donna Harraway’s Staying with the Trouble, the former sci-fi and the latter theory, and some speculative fiction. A common theme that kept emerging was kinship and collective coexistence. And the way different beings (both human and non-human) affect one another in intimate ways was an idea that I wanted to represent through a sculpture, hence I made Cross Pollinations.
I began with initial sketches on paper and then created a 3D model in Rhino. Using those drawings I cut steel plates into trapezoids, welded them together, and then polished them to a satin finish. This shape was combined with more organic beetle legs that I carved from a mild steel round bar with a grinder, then powder coated in a chrome finish. I was drawn to elevating the status of beetles, whose environmental importance can be overlooked, while also creating a hypothetical future being and scenario. The laser etched and cut plexiglass pieces are drawn representations of microscopic pollen particles, from Birch, Magnolia, common angiosperm trees, and passion flowers, that this hypothetical bug would pollinate.
A more spontaneous way of making is visible in Sprouting Fingerling, which I made specifically for the show Sticky Entanglements at Transformer in DC. I was inspired by the linear forms that Beth Yashnyk and I painted on the walls of the space and the way that she incorporated the image of fingers in her work. And I feel that I have also partially returned to earlier explorations of roots and mycelium.
Since I had been working with a lot of aluminum round-bar at my fabrication shop job, I was interested in playing with that material. Aluminum is softer, thus it was easier to bend and I could be more playful with it. I ended up making long and intertwining linear forms that I added to a potato or bacteria-esque form. When installed in the space the finger is reaching out, exploring its surroundings almost touching the other sculptures that it is sharing a pedestal with. While the method was more playful, the ideas behind the work had been stirring in my head.
Which experiences have impacted your work as an artist most?
Material knowledge has definitely fueled my practice in intriguing ways. My day job as a fabricator also significantly impacts my work. Because I’m surrounded by steel and aluminum five days a week and have the opportunity to work on various architectural public sculpture projects I think about making a lot, and I use my hands every day. If my surroundings changed I think that would affect the type of work I was making.
The artist communities that I’m in also impact my work. Having a support system to discuss ideas with, and receive feedback and encouragement when being stuck is absolutely necessary to continue making the work. I feel grateful for these communities and their support.
What advice do you have for newer artists just getting started in their career?
Being an artist is not easy, but it can be very rewarding. Although everyone’s circumstances and experiences are different, initially, it could be difficult to get opportunities. Thus perseverance is crucial. It is also about the journey (I know, corny), so try to enjoy and celebrate any and all successes.
If I was talking to a younger version of myself, I would tell myself to find a day job that is at least somewhat enjoyable, pays enough for you to purchase materials and rent a studio, and leaves you with enough energy to create. If the job starts to hinder your art-making ability you should probably find another job.
Something that I learned/realized a couple of years ago is that if I ever feel too tired to make or brainstorm I search for opportunities to exhibit, residencies, and fellowships on various sites, such as the College Art Association’s opportunities page. Local galleries also often have listings of local exhibition opportunities.
What are your future goals and aspirations as an artist?
I will be moving to Detroit to attend Cranbrook Academy of Art in the fall. I’m hoping to be an active member of the Detroit art scene and curate intimate small exhibitions.
With this opportunity, I’m also excited to build larger sculptures and explore different materials. I would like to experiment with fiber and latex, to learn more about robotics and sound design and to incorporate these not only into individual sculptures but also into larger more immersive installations.
A hope that I have is that I can be included in more conceptual group shows. I’m interested in the larger narratives that exhibitions can present and the different dialogues that can emerge between my work and that of other artists. To quote Donna Haraway: “it matters what stories we tell, to tell other stories with.” Thus, I’m excited about how aspects of my work could shift or new meanings emerge when juxtaposed with and being present near other artists’ work.
My possibilities are endless, and I cannot wait to see where my path may take me next.