Limerence: Mabel Ranselli's Artistic Exploration of Memory and Perception
Mabel Ranselli interviewed by Marta Rosellini
In this interview with artist Mabel Ranselli, led by Marta Rosellini, readers are welcomed into the world of an artist who crafts intriguing narratives through imagery. Mabel's art defies convention, sparking curiosity and contemplation while fostering deep emotional connections. Explore her artistic journey, characterized by a cyclical and non-linear creative process, and observe how memory serves as a vital element, subject to her skilled distortion and transformation. Mabel's commitment to her craft shines in her 'Limerence' project, born from a thoughtful interplay between care and aggression in image manipulation.
How would you introduce yourself to the reader?
I’m Mabel and I’d love for my pictures to talk about me without using too many words myself.
I might actually just be lazy.
I like to work with incoherent and opposing themes, I want my images to encourage the viewer to stay a little longer, to look a little better, to question what it is they’re really looking at and perhaps even question if it’s really worth looking at them after all.
I would work with anything, make anything and transform everything.
My practice is based on an endless translation of what surrounds me, it stems from the questions I ask myself and the answers I get to through process.
Making art is an ever-evolving creative process, where do you think you are right now? Where do you find yourself?
I think I’m always at the start and at the end of it simultaneously.
I believe that if your creative process it’s really in constant evolution then it manifests itself in cycles, I guess I don’t experience it in a liner way anyways, my process it’s very messy and free, research and making always go hand in hand.
I like to re-work things that were finished months ago until I can feel the exhaustion coming out of them, a messy game of almost falling until you take another step!
How has your experience abroad influenced you? How has it changed your vision and approach?
I’ve lived in the Netherlands for five years now, I would say that it taught me to be more pragmatic in my own practice and less naive.
Things are very accessible, there’s a lot of encouragement and support but as a maker you need to be very responsible and give yourself rules and work hard if you want to see results.
I think that my vision hasn’t changed that much it has naturally evolved of course but I’m mostly inspired by eastern art so I guess that living in one of the most “westernised” country in Europe didn’t do that much (haha), it has though exposed me to more and more diverse practices and artist which I’m extremely grateful for.
How much does the relationship with the audience influence your work?
This is a hard one because on one hand I can be extremely egotistical and make things exclusively to satisfy my inner needs, on the other hand once my work is complete I always worry a bit that it might be too hermetic for the viewer. I guess that what I try to keep in mind when I’m making something it’s balance but without compromising my vision.
How does your perception of memory change in space and time?
Memory has always played an important role to me, it’s a place that I can visit whenever I feel the need to reassess my personal archive, an actual navigable place. I started making images to document my own memories, in an almost fearful process I wanted to keep my memories near me.
With time I started to play with the idea of distortion, in a way I tried to visualise one of my biggest fears which is the loss of my identity, I started using memories/images and “exploit” them playing with control, both taking and letting go of it. At first my idea of memories was deeply tied to my own sense of self, with time I sort of came to think that they are actually relating to perception and perception is unfortunately already mostly faulty.
There can not be any right or wrong in perception, only different sides from where you’re looking at something, now I don’t mind the idea of faulty or distorted memories, I can see the beauty in them.
Your series examines the qualities of image transitions in connection with memories/mnemonic spaces. How would you define these connections?
I’ve always wanted my images to feel organic, transitional and ever changing, they’re born from a process of hyper translation, they’re are forced out of their carrier, removed, changed and misplaced with extreme accuracy and care, broken apart to then be reimagined and reorganized. I wanted them to resemble a space that can be explored, a space where the viewer can get lost, perhaps my vision of this process is very personal but I tried to recreate my own dreamscapes of fractioned reality, something that might feel like a broken memory or a distant dream, rooted in reality but not quite real.
Images just like memories are nothing but the record of a moment that has happened and can not ever manifest itself in the same way again, both of them rely on perception
How did this project come to be?
Limerence was born after an investigation on in-betweens, trying to balance profound care and deep aggression. I was working with the idea of the destruction of images through printing and I found myself being absolutely baffled when I realised how much care there actually was in the act of destroying something. I was looking for extremely fragile and delicate materials so I started experimenting with glass and photographic emulsion which later on became polaroid emulsion, I fell in love with the amount of dedication that the process takes. I suppose it all came from the violent act of deeply loving.