Issue 12
The Art of Kime Buzzelli
By Anne KeehnPortrait By Rony Alwin
Artwork By Kime Buzzelli
Kime Buzzelli, an artist, fashion designer and owner of the Echo Park clothing boutique Show Pony, grew up in Ohio. Her mid-western homeland was a place, she says, where creativity thrived. Artists would gather together and put on art and music performances in old abandoned houses. “There are a lot of art things you can do in Ohio, because there is nothing else there,” Buzzelli says. “People in Ohio—they work on their art and it has nothing to do with fame. If you’re in a band, it is because you love to play. It is really inspiring when I go back. I go back at least twice a year.”
Buzzelli’s mother was a British rocker and Beatles fan who moved to the U.S. when she was 12. She rode a motorcycle to school, and graduated high school with green hair—the result of some sort of self-styling hair accident. Like her mother, Buzzelli uses her own silhouette as a canvas upon which to express herself. As far back as Buzzelli can remember she was obsessed with clothes. Not cutting edge, new fashion—but old, artful garments that told stories. Buzzelli owns a vintage purse, possibly made in the ‘20s. Its original straps must have busted off after a few decades; Buzzelli imagines that some girl in the ‘60s or ‘70s took this broken item and created its new, incongruously colorful straps. These kinds of fashion items, treasured and lovingly altered over generations, have a warmth and preciousness to them. Buzzelli strives to create this feeling in her art and clothes—and her surroundings.
Buzzelli says she rarely wears brand new clothes from head to toe. “I try to have at least one piece that is more personal,” she says. “Otherwise I feel like I lose my identity.” Her boutique is a cluttered, inviting space filled with delicately rendered scarves, dresses, jewels and belts. There is a cozy couch in the back corner of her boutique—recently installed in place of a counter. On the cushions, she has embroidered her trademark flapper-hippie female figures. Buzzelli says her home, on the top floor of the building that houses Show Pony, is an even more personal extension of this shop. And recently, she has taken up gardening.
Straight out of high school, at 17, Buzzelli studied fashion illustration at Parsons the New School for Design in New York. But the bulk of her college education took place at Ohio State, where she graduated with a dual degree in art and education. She specialized in installation work—but even then, her work focused on clothes. “I made dresses out of paper and mold and with blood. It sounds sort of gross, but when they were hanging they looked delicate and old,” she says. “I did a lot of stuff with found art. I salvaged slips from used clothes stores, and I took them on a trip—hung them in motel rooms. I would make things sculpturally, and they would be in weird environments.”
Buzzelli sometimes talks about clothes as if they were living things. Fashion, to her, is deeply personal—and her artwork seems to illustrate her views on the proper way to approach clothes. “There is sort of an absurdity to fashion, but deep down, I’m addicted to it,” she says. “The only time I ever poke fun at fashion is when someone is buying something because they think it is going to solve all of the problems in their lives.” Many of her paintings come with captions that add a sarcastic twist to the glamorous imagery. In one, a beautiful brunette looks askance with her mouth half open. Another fashion modellike woman is in the background, her hand on her hip. The captions say: “Know your ghosts or they will destroy you,” and “They had no idea it was all about to end.” Some fashion photography is so luscious, textured and glossy that it seems to make endorphins rush in your head. At first, Buzzelli’s art might strike the viewer on this visceral and superficial level. (She says she often draws from fashion magazines like Vogue.) But there is a subtle steeliness to her art. “I love horror movies,” she says. “I love that last woman who has to learn how to make a cross bow out of nothing and survives.” There is something tough and ominous behind the women in Buzzelli’s paintings. Their eyes are hard, and their highfashion postures are solid—these girls won’t be budged. They are standing their ground.
Buzzelli herself comes across, at first, as a blur of beautiful draped clothes and pleasant energy. But there is a relentless driving force underneath this. Her father was a stoic “George Bush type” who deplored change. “Even something like changing the furniture around in the room would make him uncomfortable. He would change it back,” Buzzelli says. “I think because I am the first born, I am really hard on myself. I come across as being laid back—but I hate mediocrity in myself. Every day I have a list of things to do that is outlandish.”
For a time, Buzzelli taught art in inner city Columbus, Ohio, to 6th, 7th and 8th graders. Her superiors told her that her students were too young to hold discussions on art theory. But Buzzelli thought otherwise. She turned the classroom into a gallery, complete with reproductions of Warhols and other famous artworks. She played music and had the teaching staff dressed as servers, offering students pink 7-Up. “And we would have dialogues about art,” Buzzelli says. “I would ask them, ‘Which picture do you think doesn’t belong here?’ And they would think about it and come back with really intelligent responses.”
Anything is possible—if you believe it is so. “Ever since I was a kid I have been creating environments,” she says. “I put on an entire play in the backyard, just so I had an excuse to wear my mom’s clothes.” Her backyard has gotten bigger. She has had art shows in Tokyo, and recently found representation with New Image Art. And just last year, at Miami’s Art Basel, one of the top collectors of Basquiat works added Buzzelli’s paintings to his collection.
“I was doing so many different things,” Buzzelli says. “I had been working so much on my clothes, and running this [Show Pony] space. I was focusing on too many things, and my friend just said, ‘Why don’t you just focus on your art—on being an artist?’ I really feel like when I started doing that, I saw the world just opening up.”