Jessica Grindstaff & Erik Sanko | Fairytales For Two
I first encountered Phantom Limb Company’s work not on stage but at the largest art party in New York: Bushwick Open Studios. Erik Sanko’s puppets were quietly hanging from the ceiling in an industrial building utilized by local artists as their workspace, with a backdrop of old dusty windows. Unlike the majority of artists who were eagerly greeting the visitors and enthusiastically introducing their works, the owner and creator of that room was not even present. The puppets shared the same expressionless, almost melancholic look on their pale faces like lost lone souls on a post-war apocalyptic wasteland. I was immediately entranced without any context.
Later I learned that the puppets have a secret life in a different world, a wonderland that Jessica Grindstaff and Erik Sanko created together. Although neither of them started this journey thinking that an avant-garde puppet company that advocates for social change and environmental justice would be what they do for life.
But here they are, active in the New York art scene as a unique team that connects the seemingly separate dots of various creative disciplines: theater, sculpture, moving image, dance, space, and light; and as an inseparable family that beats all the odds and stereotypes in the art world.
Interview by Tansy Xiao. Photography by Runze Yu.
“When we first began collaborating there was a lot of conflict and eventually, we learned to define our roles in a very clean and clear way and then it began to be a lot of fun with a lot of freedom for both of us. When we were both ‘kinda sort of’ trying to do the same thing together, it was a disaster.”
-Jessica Grindstaff
“Jessica is brilliant at seeing things holistically and overseeing a large group of collaborators. I’m more of a ‘curl up in the corner and focus intensely on a single thing’ kind of guy.”
-Erik Sanko
“Since my role is Director, in general I get the final word. But honestly, Erik has such a sensitive and nuanced eye and mind, I often end up pursuing his ideas and thoughts even if initially I resisted them.”
-Jessica Grindstaff
“I generally defer to Jessie but if I feel something is worth pursuing, I’ll continue to bring it up in the hopes that she’ll see the same thing in it that I do - even if I can’t describe it.”
-Erik Sanko
“Mostly we have included our kids into our process, they are in the room while we make and they are better for it. I believe that they have made me a better artist and have deepened my practice.”
-Jessica Grindstaff
“Unbeknown to me when we first met 20 something years, there isn’t anyone I could imagine being a better fit to co-parent with than Jess. We have the same opinions and philosophies 99% of the time when it comes to how to raise our daughters.”
-Erik Sanko
So what were you doing before you met each other? Is Phantom Limb Company what each of you initially planned for your career?
JG: I was 19 years old and in college when I met Erik. I was taking photographs, drawing, making collage and video as well as dabbling in theatre. I really had no idea what I would end up doing at that point in my life but I definitely did not think it would have anything to do with theatre.
ES: I was a musician playing in the avant-garde and experimental scene but Jessie met through my band Skeleton Key. We were a loud, angular post-punk band so making marionettes was energetically on the opposite end of the spectrum.
What made you decide to collaborate, please tell us about your first project together.
JG: Our first project together happened by accident. I was invited to have a solo show at a gallery of my dioramas and I felt unprepared for that kind of attention and so I asked the gallerist if she would also be interested in showing Erik’s marionettes. She leapt at the opportunity and we had a show together in 2001. The gallerist asked Erik if he would put together a little puppet show at the end of the run and Erik had never done anything with them before in public. He enlisted the help of a friend and threw together a tiny part of a play that he had been ruminating on for years privately and had John Cale do the voiceover. It was really this small gallery at the end of Greenpoint back when no one lived there or really went there, and a couple hundred people came up. I don’t know how they found out about it; this is also pre-social media obviously.
Someone suggested that Erik apply for a grant from the Jim Henson Foundation to make a full version of this little show and I helped him with the grant, helped him find his team etc. He was awarded the grant and just as he was about to get started the set designer kind of disappeared and just wasn’t available. I looked around and eventually thought, well how hard can it be? It’s just a larger version of what I’m already doing- creating these little narrative diorama worlds in miniature. So, I designed all of the interiors while my friend Selin Maner designed the structure. Then because I was standing in front watching and Erik was standing inside puppeteering, I became the default director. Anyway, this show was supposed to run for 3 weeks at HERE Arts Center and it got a big write up and it ran for 3 months sold out. We didn’t look back after that, we just kept making work together and further defined our roles over the years.
That was really incredible. Do you work in the same or separate spaces? Living and working with a romantic partner 24/7 is the new norm for a lot of people during the quarantine, but it has been your life for how many years? In brief, please give some advice to people who are new to this.
JG: I prefer to make things in separate spaces but sometimes we are designing something together so obviously we need to be in the same space. Our work is quite different. Erik produces a lot of dust when he works which is problematic for the way that I work which is usually very clean. I also work with beeswax and the dust settles into that and then it’s never really the same again. When we are in the theatre, we are in the same building and almost always the same room and I think this is when our work really sings together and we hit our stride. When we first began collaborating there was a lot of conflict and eventually, we learned to define our roles in a very clean and clear way and then it began to be a lot of fun with a lot of freedom for both of us. When we were both “kinda sort of” trying to do the same thing together, it was a disaster.
ES: Once we figured out our respective roles on any given project things got much easier. Jessica is brilliant at seeing things holistically and overseeing a large group of collaborators. I’m more of a “curl up in the corner and focus intensely on a single thing” kind of guy.
I can see that. Having clear roles does help with decision making. How do you solve it when the two of you do have different opinions artistically?
JG: Since my role is Director, in general I get the final word. But honestly, Erik has such a sensitive and nuanced eye and mind, I often end up pursuing his ideas and thoughts even if initially I resisted them.
ES: I generally defer to Jessie but if I feel something is worth pursuing, I’ll continue to bring it up in the hopes that she’ll see the same thing in it that I do - even if I can’t describe it.
A lot of your productions discuss the relationship between humankind and nature, in particular the climate emergency and environmental injustice. Do you also practice an eco-friendly lifestyle yourselves?
JG: In every way that we can. One of the things that I learned in Japan when I was spending time with survivors of the tsunami is that the little things really do matter and that billions of people doing small things does add up to change. Yes, we all need to vote and write letters and be politically active but we can also make a difference at home and by exampling in our community. Overarching political and corporate change must happen but along with individual actions.
For starters, we compost, we shop local as much as possible, we bicycle and walk whenever possible, we eat a largely plant based diet and use only natural products with an eye to eliminate as much packaging as possible.
I saw that you traveled a lot for your work. Like to Antarctica with the National Science Foundation to research for the creation of 69°S. What was that experience like?
JG: Like being on the moon…or more accurately, Mars.
ES: Going to Antarctica was a life altering experience. The sheer scale is overwhelming and it has no patience for humans. The continent is both massively powerful and extremely fragile and has a very palpable presence - like a sleeping giant.
Phantom Limb Company, 69 °S., 2011. Photo: Pavel Antonov
Phantom Limb Company, 69 °S., 2011. Photo: Pavel Antonov
And Jessica was in Fukushima and Northern Tokohu for 3 months to interview scientists and the locals affected by earthquake, tsunami and subsequent nuclear meltdown. Could you talk about the process?
JG: It was equal parts inspiring, sad, panic inducing and life changing. I felt that I had seen the future. In some places it was clear that there would be no recovery, that the present was the new reality and that will happen more and more as the disasters get bigger and certain areas are not able to recover.
It was mentioned in the introduction video of Falling Out that Butoh is very similar to puppetry. Could you elaborate?
JG: Butoh treats the body as a vessel and the puppet is also a vessel.
ES: In butoh the performers seem to occupy the liminal space between being alive and being dead and this is a place where puppets live too. They treat the body as material, as a sort of organic machine and this has a parallel to how we perceive of the puppets. There is a conscious sense of breathing life into the inanimate and I think butoh performers would have a similar sense.
There have been more animal figures in recent productions, like in Memory Rings and Twelve Angry Animals. What inspired you to create more animal puppets on stage?
JG: To give the animals voice… though not literally. So much of the climate crisis is about what is going to happen to our species and ignores the sad truths of what has already happened and continues to happen to non-human species.
Exactly, to provide a more non-anthropocentric view. I do notice that the animal characters appear to be larger than the human characters. What are those stories about, for the readers that haven’t had a chance to see them? What’s the relationship between human and animals in those worlds?
JG: In both productions where we used animals as storytellers, it was clear that the animal’s kind of held onto or carried some kind of ancient truth. They had a longer timeline than the humans and the humans had come in and sort of mucked up their peaceful existence and evolution.
Phantom Limb Company, Falling Out, 2018. Photo: Jati Lindsay
Phantom Limb Company, Falling Out, 2018. Photo: Jati Lindsay
Phantom Limb Company, Falling Out, 2018. Photo: Jati Lindsay
In Memory Rings you incorporated social media posts in the projection design, which is a rare take considering that your dominant aesthetics are more on the retro, pre-industrial side. What made you decide to “enter the contemporary era”?
JG: I think that social media has a kind of observing, a curated copy of the world and has separated us from the actual reality of the world- both the beauty and the crisis. It is a new kind of consciousness that revolves around a fiction and though we somehow have more information than we’ve ever had access to because of it, we are also kind of walking around missing what is right before us. This feels important to note when we are speaking about sensitivity and relationship to our environment...
You created your own Puppetry and Performance class at RISD, what is it like to teach art students puppetry? As far as I know, unlike it in Europe, art and theater have been two separate entities academically here in the United States.
ES: Yes, that’s true. I’ve taught puppetry to both art students at RISD and The New School, and to theater students at NYU and needless to say the experiences are completely different. The art students focus on character design and the physical aspects of the puppets but I really try to emphasize the importance of narrative to them. I remind them that a puppet doesn’t need to be anthropomorphic but can be representative of practically anything - an emotional state, a concept, a phobia, etc. - and try to get them to think of it as a way of animating the work they’re already creating. For the most part they are really responsive to this idea and see it as liberating and challenging - two things art students always need!
It’s sort of a cliché how unfriendly the art world is to parenting artists. How do you maintain a balance between spending time with your children and having a rigorous career in the arts?
JG: I get so tired of reading about prominent female artists talking about how you can’t have children and be an artist. This is nonsense. If you are committed to spending your life on art, you will figure out a way whether you have kids or not, the rest is just an excuse. We aren’t running around with a team of nannies and we still make it work. Mostly we have included our kids into our process, they are in the room while we make and they are better for it. I believe that they have made me a better artist and have deepened my practice. Also, by necessity I have become a much more efficient human being in all aspects to maximize my time with them and the time I get to accomplish what I need to. Do I wish I had more time for everything? Yes. Sometimes, restriction grants opportunity in creative spaces.
ES: Unbeknown to me when we first met 20 something years, there isn’t anyone I could imagine being a better fit to co-parent with than Jess. We have the same opinions and philosophies 99% of the time when it comes to how to raise our daughters. And regarding your question, we don’t have a hardline distinction between life and art and we include the girls as much as we can.
That’s one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard!
The story was published in noisé 01 The Solstice, 2021.