Brian Cattelle, a photographer and photo-based artist, has been creating compelling and provocative art for nearly a decade. Originally working in web design, Cattelle’s life took a dramatic turn when he won a photography contest, which encouraged him to pursue art full-time. Cattelle’s work often explores themes of isolation, defeatism, and the absurdity of the human condition, using a range of mediums to create pieces that challenge viewers’ perceptions and comfort zones.
In this interview, Brian Cattelle discusses the inspirations behind his art and his evolving practice. He discusses his sobriety journey and how it has influenced his work, the themes of loneliness and defeatism in his photography, his fascination with the darker aspects of humanity, and his innovative mask series, Corrupted Cognition, which features unsettling masks designed to challenge viewers’ comfort.
This conversation is a deep exploration of Cattelle’s artistic philosophy and invites readers to journey into his world, where the weird and the awkward are celebrated and transformed into powerful artistic statements.
Visit Brian Cattelle’s MakersPlace Profile
Prefer to Listen or Watch?
Brady Walker: Hello and welcome back to the Makers Place Artists Interview Series. Today we have with us Brian Cattelle. Brian, why don’t you go ahead and introduce yourself to our audience for those who are not familiar with you and your work?
Brian Cattelle: Yeah, thanks for having me, Brady. My name is Brian Cattelle. I’m traditionally a photographer, photo-based artist, I could say, been doing photography for about the past nine years. But I’ve always been interested in exploring other things. As of late, I’ve allowed myself to expand my horizons and really delve more into art as a whole, exploring other things in art and expanding my artistic practice.
I think usually my work leans towards the strange and the weird. I like to push the envelope on what people find to be normal or acceptable or question what they understand. A lot of my work leans more on the darker, lonelier side of humanity, not necessarily in a bad way, but in a way that I think all of us can relate to.
Recently, I’ve been thinking of a lot of my work as kind of like defeatism. A lot of times its subject matter has to do with feeling defeated by the ridiculousness of the world, and I really like to point out the ridiculousness of the world in a sarcastic way. That’s been my through line that presents itself through my mixed media work, photography, and some of the video work that I’ve been doing.
BW: Can you tell me about the moment or the time in your life when you decided to start taking art seriously as a career path?
BC: Sure. I would say it was about nine years ago. I was a web designer for this lead generation company, and I wasn’t a very good web designer. I didn’t care much about it. I had just won a photography contest through Marlboro cigarettes of all places. They had a photography contest, and I won like 10 grand in photo equipment and like $20,000.
I’m sitting in this office, looking outside, wanting to be outside again, just doing this job that I did not care about, feeling a little bit guilty that I was a pretty bad employee overall. I had brought some of my photographs to someone who was a curator, and they looked at them and said, “Yeah, if you want to do this, you could do this.” He was the type of guy who could be a real asshole, so when he told me that, I was like, alright, let’s get out of this office. That’s when I decided to quit that job and become a full-time photographer and artist.
BW: I want to ask you about something I saw on your Instagram. You recently passed a milestone with sobriety. Can you tell me about that?
BC: Yeah, absolutely. That web design job I had was actually my sober job. That was the job I got out of rehab. Sobriety is part of my life now. It’s not really that big of a deal to me anymore, but when I first started with photography, it was certainly an outlet for me to stay connected and grow artistically and as a human being.
It brought me to places I would never have been, meeting people I would never meet, and put me in uncomfortable positions that I had to learn and grow through. Photography has been a major catalyst for my growth within sobriety, along with other things I’ve done to maintain it. I did photography in high school and loved it, but my addiction made me lose interest. I somehow passed college with a bit of cheating and being relatively smart, but I was miserable. Everything was terrible, and I had no strong interest in anything. It got really bad for me, and I eventually ended up on the streets of South Florida.
When I got sober and got a new lease on life, I realized I didn’t survive just to live in office hell. For me, an office job was torture, even though many people are content and happy with that security. I had to get out and start living my life. I got a second chance and wanted to make sure I started living it.
BW: I asked you about that because you describe your photography and themes as defeatist or, in some way, fatalist. I’m curious to know what you are learning about yourself through these art projects, and contrasting that with a long streak of sobriety. The fatalism and new lease on life are an interesting juxtaposition. Can you tell me more?
BC: I will say that drinking and using drugs are non-issues now. It’s not something I think about or am interested in. But life is hard. My brain just doesn’t stop. Sometimes my brain hates me. I think artists are particularly sensitive to the world and the human condition. Many addicts are drug addicts and alcoholics because the world and the human condition are so much to bear, and they look for relief.
I’m looking for answers and relief through my art, especially in the more lonely and defeatist themes. Sometimes I find it, but my life is still a search for connection, answers, and relief from the sadness that creeps into my head. It’s not necessarily a bad thing; I think all human beings experience this. For me, it might be a little extra, and I have to work harder to keep it in balance with all the good stuff. A lot of that is released through my art. As an artist, I want to be a bit courageous in the work that I make. I know that there are other people out there who see it and think, “Oh, my God, that’s how I feel.” On the other spectrum, the stuff that’s more defeatist and weird, I want to push the envelope on what we think is acceptable. Society as a whole is very judgmental, and I think we could find a lot of relief in accepting other concepts and ideas.
Once we start to accept other concepts and ideas, we become less judgmental of ourselves and find a lot of freedom in that. Pushing that envelope allows for growth all around, for me as an artist and for the people who see my work.
BW: And this series that you’re currently working on, the masks that will go up on Makerspace in July, I believe. And I know your philosophy behind these masks is similarly confrontational to what you were just saying. Can you tell me a little bit about why you are creating these masks and what effect you want them to have on viewers?
BC: Yeah, so the idea is that these masks—I call the collection Corrupted Cognition. We have a certain way of interpreting things, and our minds like to see things as we’re used to them. We feel comfortable and safe. What I found when I made these masks is that they made people really uncomfortable. They’re like, “Oh, that’s scary, that’s creepy.” And then I had to look at it and be like, is it really scary, though? Is it creepy? Do you think this mask is going to harm you? Do you think something bad is going to happen? What is it that gives it that creepy label?
It’s not that they are creepy or scary. It’s just that our minds aren’t used to the restructuring of facial components in such an odd way. That is jarring. By creating these and making people look at them and think, “Oh, that’s creepy,” but then accept it, it expands your horizons. It allows your mind to think about other things. Now, when you go out in public and see something else that normally would be jarring, maybe it’s not as jarring this time. Maybe you’re like, “Oh, that’s actually not that weird. That’s on par with the world because the world is crazy. The world is weird.” Acceptance is key, so I think these masks are a step in that direction.
They originally started because I wanted my Polaroid series Gummo Land to feature a lot of masks. It’s a Polaroid series that celebrates the weird, the awkward, and the strange. This was my first NFT project I put on OpenSea. I had 50 of them, and they sold out. I made these masks for Gummo Land for people to wear while I took the Polaroids. But they missed the mark—they were a bit too extreme for those Polaroid photos. So, I thought this could be its own thing. It was kind of a spin-off from that.
BW: And how do you make the base mask?
BC: I took plaster gauze and basically laid on the floor and put it on my face to make a mold. You have to have an extra-large mouth to get the effect you’re looking for, so I made the mold with my mouth wide open. I then put the plaster gauze over that mold repeatedly to make a ton of copies. They all turn out a little bit different, but basically it’s the same form.
Then I print off mostly interesting celebrity faces that I find, cut the faces out, and glue them to the mask with Modge Podge. It’s a glue that’s much more gentle, so it doesn’t affect the paper.
BW: How has the project evolved since you started?
BC: Well, when I did them for Gummo Land, I used molds that were only half-face and didn’t have the proper mouth size. They were cool, but not that great. I started experimenting at home, and it took a lot of development to find the right face shape that was a good size.
Once I did that, I wanted to make it like a museum-quality piece—this ridiculous, crazy piece that doesn’t really fit in a museum but is of that caliber. So, I figured out a way to create floating mounts. I have these pieces of wood, and the masks go on top of the floating mount. Then they hang up on the wall and float out from the wall. It’s a really beautiful display.
I’ve also made it possible for people to actually wear the masks if they wanted to. There are no eyeholes, so I don’t think people will, but it’s cool to have that option. With that in mind, and also, you get the certificate of authenticity on the inside.
What started out as a goofy, casual project for these photos has turned into very serious art pieces. It’s taken a while to figure out that I have to use Modge Podge over Elmer’s glue because Elmer’s glue wrinkles the paper. I have to print the faces a certain size to get the right-sized eyes and mouth for the effect I’m looking for. I had to make the mask of my own face with my mouth open because a closed mouth doesn’t work, and the store-bought mask molds weren’t the right size and shape.
It’s been a lot of research and development to get to this point. Even through the process of creating the masks, I’ve learned new techniques on how to lay down the paper, cut it properly to avoid too many wrinkles, and other things. Each iteration gets a little bit better.
BW: What does this series mean to you personally?
BC: With a lot of series, and this holds true for this one, it means a process of not caring. As an artist, I really do hold myself back from judgment and from what other people think. Releasing this project is a step in a direction where I’m like, yeah, I’m making weird masks. This is not normal for me or for an artist to do, but I’m going to be serious about it. I’m going to make them anyway, mean it, and try to get this message across.
People are going to have comments about how weird and creepy they are, but that’s okay. We’re going to push this issue forward and let it ride. It’s always a challenge for myself in my own artistic growth, in what I can allow myself to do. There is a lot of negative talk that comes in like, this is too weird, people aren’t going to like this, what are you doing? Masks? You’re a photographer? Why are you doing that? It’s really just always pushing myself to grow.
BW: I love that answer. About being a photographer, on your website you refer to yourself as a black and white, photo-based artist. I think with the masks that still fits under the aegis that you have concocted for yourself. I’m curious to know what’s gained and what’s lost with that definition?
BC: Well, I don’t think anything’s lost. I think a lot is gained. It gives me the freedom to do more stuff. I think one of the things that a lot of people do is they might accidentally pigeonhole themselves. There are a lot of artists who do one thing very well and do it over and over again. Some are very content doing that, they enjoy it, they love it, and they feel like that’s their life purpose. But I also think there are a lot of artists who get stuck in that place and can’t get out because this was working, and it’s what everybody knows them for.
For me, I needed the ability to give myself some space to go in other directions. I can’t do just one thing; I know that I’m going to need to explore and grow and do different things. I need to let my audience know that sooner than later. So that’s been happening over the past two years, like, alright, you saw this photography, now let’s get used to this, and understand that I’m also going to do this. That’s my goal for myself. It’s not always the most conducive for successful branding growth from the start, but it’s a fight worth taking. Saying that I’m a black and white photo-based artist gives me room for that growth without losing where I started.
BW: Yeah, I mean, I was thinking similarly to you. It seems like if you create that little kind of sandbox for yourself, it’s also a branding decision. By changing the word from photographer to photo-based, you open up so many things. It seems like you can create new genres within what you’re doing. I think that’s a brilliant idea.
BC: Who knows, maybe in a year or two, I’m just gonna say artist. But I do really identify with the black and white photographer. That’s where I started. That’s my core. That’s the love of my artistic journey. I always go back to it. So maybe it just stays black and white photo-based artist.
BW: But there’s something interesting about creating some constraints for yourself and then trying to be creative and expansive within those constraints, which it seems like you’re doing with the masks.
BC: I’ve had a lot of projects where I create rules that are constraints, and then you have to figure out how to get around them or work with them. Sometimes constraints can foster greater creativity.
BW: Is that an intentional practice, or is that more instinctual, like, “for this, I’m going to do this, and I’m not going to let myself”?
BC: I think maybe it falls more into the category of neuroses. Sometimes I’m just like, alright, these are the rules. And then I’m not following these rules. I’m like, wait a second, I made these rules. I don’t have to follow them. But I do that. I like the projects to have a certain construct, and I like them to feel like they fit into a category. Those rules create the category the project fits into; it creates the container. This is a finished project, here it is, and then I can go on to the next one. It makes sense to me to compartmentalize things in that way.
BW: Are these articulated rules? Or is it more sense-based? For instance, if I were to ask you, what are some rules you’ve set for yourself with the mask project?
BC: Well, the mask project, we’re going to have to stick to this mold here and the mount. A lot of times, I’m not 100% sure what the rules are until I try to break one, and then I realize, oh, that’s a rule I’ve made. I think the masks are going to be in series of 10. I have thought about instead of cutting, maybe ripping. That could be interesting, so I might play around with that. But I think the basic structure of the mask collection is going to stay pretty much the same. I’ve started to flip some of the mounts upside down or take an eyeball and put it on the wrong side to throw things off a little bit. But that was never a rule. I don’t have too many rules. The short answer is I don’t know what the rules for the masks are yet.
BW: Now, I want to go through some of your past work. Can you tell me about spiritual beings having a human experience?
BC: Yeah, that’s long exposure street photography. It kind of started by accident. One of my street photos ended up being an amazing long exposure. I found it to be a really interesting way to capture street photography. You leave the lens open for like 1/4 of a second with a filter on there, and when I pass people by, it draws the light and creates lines.
I found it interesting that we’re all just walking on these busy streets, passing each other. In a brief moment, we have an exchange of energy or just a look, but we never see each other again. It’s like these fleeting moments. We’re all different in so many ways, but one thing that seems to connect us is that on some level, I believe we’re spiritual beings.
I don’t know all the rules of the universe. I don’t know if God does or doesn’t exist, but I like to talk about it and explore it. Naming the project that, in combination with the style of the photos, gives people an opportunity to question the intersection between science and spirituality and think about our interactions with each other as human beings. What are we? What are we doing? How did this happen?
BW: I often ask myself that. Where else in your work do you see a spiritual element popping up?
BC: I think Bare USA shows the natural beauty with manmade decay. It’s nudes in abandoned buildings across the United States. That, in conjunction with spirituality, dives into loneliness a lot. It’s usually a singular figure in a huge chaotic room.
When I looked at that project after I did it, I realized that in my addiction, it seemed like there was no hope. Everything was lost. But there was always that tiny bit of hope. In this chaotic world, this mess I created, there was just a small glimmer of hope. A lot of that comes through in the Bear USA collection. It can be very spiritual to recognize that even when everything seems lost, there’s a glimmer of hope from which you can grow, and this whole mess can become a beautiful thing.
I do a lot of landscapes, though I don’t show them much. I love nature and find it very spiritual. Have you heard the news about plants? They’re starting to wonder if plants actually think—not like the human brain does, but they respond to different things in a way that we might understand as consciousness or thinking. So, yeah, nature.
BW: No, yeah, it’s fascinating. I’ve read a couple books in the last year or two about trees specifically. They communicate and help each other. Mother trees teach smaller trees and protect them. They respond to sounds and the world around them, albeit a lot slower than we do, but they do.
I live out in Portland, Oregon, where everyone is an amateur arborist of some sort. Moving from New York to Portland was a big change. In New York, it’s like, “Yeah, I have a tree on my block, great,” versus Portland, where everyone spends weekends hiking. It’s a very different scene and you get a different connection to things for sure.
What’s the story with Gummo Land? And what’s the connection with the Harmony Korine film?
BC: Gummo Land was born out of the need to get out of the house. The pandemic had turned me into a bit of a hermit. During the pandemic, I watched a lot of cult classic B-movies. There was a beauty to them; although the movies themselves weren’t great, the cinematography and the artistic boldness were striking.
Artists like Harmony Korine created these films unapologetically. They were often mocked and heavily criticized, but a certain subsection of people praised them. I thought that was one of the most beautiful things an artist can do—just to be so bold to do it anyway. I love the aesthetic of some of Harmony’s films. I thought Gummo Land was a cool name that encapsulated the cult classic B-film vibe.
I was on the fence because I didn’t want Gummo the movie to be directly associated with Gummo Land due to some of the movie’s uncomfortable and problematic subject matter. Gummo Land is supposed to be more fun than that.
BW: It’s a theme park version.
BC: But it seemed to fit. I think when people see the work and the title, they’re like, “Oh, yeah, I get it.” It’s about exploring the weird, the awkward, and the strange and celebrating that.
BW: And then I believe that Visions of Chaos was a fast follow-on to Gummo Land. Is that right?
BC: Yeah, it’s born out of a lot of the things I had available for Gummo Land. Visions of Chaos hasn’t been fully released yet; I’ve just put it out here and there a little bit. It’s a photocopy project where I use a photocopier to do photography. So it’s another black and white photo-based project. I’m using a lot of the materials from Gummo Land for that, and it has this edgy, uncomfortable feel that you get when you use a photocopier in a certain way to create these images.
BW: How old is the photocopier?
BC: The photocopier is not that old. The difficult thing with a photocopier is that it usually only picks up what’s directly on the glass. But if you give it extra light, it can pick up more. I discovered that with a bunch of flashlights, I could really get a lot more use out of the photocopier. It turns it into a very, very thin aperture camera, basically. The focal point is the glass, but you can get the rest with a little extra light.
BW: And there’s another project you’re working on that hasn’t been released yet called Redacted. What’s the story with that one?
BC: Oh, that’s the AI project. I wanted to dabble in AI, so I’m taking some of my photography and giving the AI a sliver of one of my photos, like the eyes or the mouth, and then asking it to fill in the rest. It doesn’t really know how to do that, so it gets pretty bizarre. I set up a method where I can do 50, 200, or even 1000 iterations if I wanted to. I do them in batches of 50 to see what comes out and then pick the best ones.
It’s easy to press a button and generate these images, but they are drawn from my photography originally. I haven’t fully embraced the whole AI thing yet. I’m still figuring out how I feel about it in my work. It’s an exploration of that.
I did theorize and wanted to put it together with these FBI files. The theory is that human beings are part of a universal consciousness. AI is fed off of what humans give it, so AI is also part of that universal consciousness. If the universe is infinite, then everything that could possibly happen is actually happening. If AI is pulling from a universal consciousness, it might be possible that AI is pulling from something that actually exists somewhere in the infinite universe.
The FBI has discovered that quantum computing has unlocked the ability to sometimes accidentally find these existences. Quantum computers have connected to the universal consciousness and discovered that some of these AI renders do exist—they are lives being lived somewhere. I’ve created FBI files that go over that discovery. I make case files like, “This is case number 33, fourths, six eighths in quadrant whatever of the universe.” These are the chances that this person will get discovered on someone’s home computer, and we can’t let that happen because of blah, blah, blah. That’s the concept.
I’m telling the truth about being 14 years sober. This is just what happens when you’re always falling asleep to movies and documentaries about black holes and spacetime theory.
BW: I love this idea. I remember talking about it last time we spoke, and I think it’s great. I would love to see all of the AI two or three years ago, like, let’s go to that part of the universe where it gets really weird. So, the pictures in your case files are the ones you’re generating off of your own photography?
BC: Yeah. The AI is pulling from what it knows to fill in the blanks. I’m doing it through Photoshop, which says its AI is taught off of content it’s allowed to use, like Creative Commons content and stuff like that. That’s what they say, but it’s all up for debate. We’re still learning about the resources being used, the implications, and what that means for artists whose work is involved in the education of AI and the artists using AI. I don’t have a stance on that because I don’t feel like I know enough about it to have a stance, but I want to be aware of the possibilities.
BW: Have you considered training an AI on your own work?
BC: I have, yeah, but I’m really less of a computer guy. I’m more of a hands-on guy. I gotta get out there with the camera; I gotta make these masks by hand. I can sit at the computer for so long, but I want to get into generative art projects. I’ve done animations and video editing, but I was stuck in that office on a computer all day, looking outside, wanting to get out. The computer is not where my heart is as an artist, although I love utilizing its power. It’s just not where I’m always pulled to.
BW: I feel like a lot of artists feel the same. I was interviewing someone earlier who, two years ago, stepped away from digital art entirely but is still minting and selling NFTs, just not making the art digitally.
BC: And I think if you love being a digital artist, that’s fantastic. There’s no right or wrong. It’s just what motivates me and what I’m drawn to.
BW: Yeah. What about the Black Box Gallery? What’s that?
BC: The Black Box Gallery is a gallery my friend Briny Shermer and I did in New York City for NFT NYC 2023. We had a small space in the Lower East Side, and we wanted to create an art gallery or NFT experience that was different from the rest. At these events, we often have art on screens or up on the walls, and the socializing seems to take the attention. The art isn’t always celebrated as much as the artists would like.
So, we created a situation where the only thing you could do was look at and experience the art. We made a giant black box with a massive screen at the end where the art was displayed. People came in, sat on benches, and the artists could do a presentation or just have a slideshow.
It was a fantastic experience. We had tons of people come through and really enjoy the space. They were grateful that their art was presented in a way that got people involved and really paying attention to the work they created. The attendees found it an amazing way to experience some of the NFT art.
BW: That’s cool. It’s almost like a movie theater setup for art viewing.
BC: They have black boxes in museums; all museums usually have one or two that focus on a specific subject. We just recreated that in the context of an NFT event.
BW: It’s interesting because those black boxes are typically for video, and so NFTs, digital art, present that opportunity to use the black box for something other than video.
BC: We had some video art there, too. Hugo Fez had a video in the background while he did a live performance. We had a lot of photography and other things.
BW: But it was all presented digitally?
BC: Yes, it was all presented with a projector on a really big screen. The space wasn’t that big—only about nine feet wide—and we had an eight-foot-wide screen, so it made the screen seem massive and took up the whole space.
BW: What do you see as your artistic lineage? Who are the artists you see your work being in conversation with?
BC: I really don’t know. In the NFT space, I’ve been working to get connected and learn more about art history because I am not formally educated in art school or art history. It’s been interesting to learn about other artists in the past and where I might be pulling this work from. I always reference the movie Total Recall. For some reason, that’s a massive influence on me. The ’80s and ’90s in general are really something that have stuck with me. I’m always longing for the past and pulling from the past. But it’s difficult for me to name specific artists.
BW: Is there any artist you’ve recently started following or whose work you’re just now getting into?
BC: Last summer, I was in Oslo, Norway. I’m half Norwegian, and I’ve always known that Edvard Munch was a famous Norwegian painter. In Oslo, they made this Munch Museum, and I went there. I was like, this guy was out there. He had some psychological problems I can’t necessarily relate to, but I did relate to some of his work. I thought it was incredible how he put his heart and soul out there. I don’t quite do that as well as I should yet. I’m not as vulnerable in all of my work as I could be. Munch was extremely vulnerable and super honest, and I thought that was something to aspire to.
In the NFT space, it’s hard for me to name specific artists I’m influenced by. But the NFT space has really expanded my mind about what I can do and techniques I can use. There are photographers photographing things I would have never thought of. I’ve gone out and tried to see some of these things myself, and I’m like, “Oh, yeah, there it is. I never saw that before.” The NFT space has heavily influenced my understanding of what art is and what I can do with the camera and my hands. It’s been a beautiful experience.
Katherine Buglione is an incredible artist on MakersPlace. She has a phenomenal collection of guest checks. She’s influential on me in taking a slice of time, a slice of life. She captures these moments that seem so normal, and then she puts them down on paper. You see that all these beautiful moments in people’s lives are happening all the time. She manages to stop time in her drawings and show this work. If anyone’s watching this and hasn’t seen Katherine’s work or collected any of it, they should definitely check out her work on MakersPlace.
BW: What are you reading, watching, or listening to these days?
BC: Oh, my Spotify playlist is all over the place. I like a lot of hard-hitting electronic music or some metal. I love some heavy metal. I just want my ears to bleed sometimes. But then I also like calm, chill music. I listen to a lot of podcasts. Some of the podcasts I listen to are This American Life on NPR. Recently, someone I know, Catherine, turned me on to the Bad Friends podcast, which has been hilarious.
BW: What’s the Bad Friends podcast?
BC: It’s Andrew Santino and Bobby Lee. They just talk shit, and it can be pretty rough at points. But the world is a weird place right now. I’m someone who tries to always find balance in respect, my sense of humor, and how my interactions with others make them feel. But I’m also having a hard time with cancel culture. It feels scary to have any kind of sense of humor. I’m personally trying to find my balance in that world and how it works for me, being mindful of people’s needs and experiences but also enjoying the world and poking a little fun at it. A podcast like this challenges that. My sentiments go out to Bobby Lee because he’s a fellow in recovery. He’s a sweet, kind, innocent soul who happens to be unapologetically funny. I’ve been enjoying that.
BW: Nice. And my last question is, what keeps you coming back to the studio?
BC: I have no choice, man. Sometimes I wish I could just take a regular job and end all this. But every time I take a different job—I’ve done real estate and made good money, I’ve done sober transport and helped people stay sober, sometimes providing a living situation or taking them from one place to another, and that makes good money too—there’s always a point where those things take up too much time and I can’t fulfill this other idea I have.
Eventually, those things fall to the wayside because the urge, the need to create and get this idea out, is overwhelming. I have to do it. I have no choice.
