Today we’d like to introduce you to Julie Lipa.
Alright, so thank you so much for sharing your story and insight with our readers. To kick things off, can you tell us a bit about how you got started?
I grew up in Detroit in the 1970s with a dumpster diving family and the treasure hunting was a complete thrill. It ended when my parents moved our family of six onto a sailboat. All of a sudden, I had to cull my personal possessions down to 5%. My home moved from marina to marina, sending me to different schools and relegating me to feeling like a perpetual outcast. Going to 12 different schools not only disrupted learning, it robbed me of any sort of stable foundation. So I did what kids do. I learned to adapt.
The second I graduated high school, I landed full-time work and disembarked, moving into my own apartment. I furnished it with other’s discards from thrift shops and garage sales (still a favorite pastime!). One day I came across a dozen 1950s portable TVs on the side of the road. Now free and with more than my v-birth “bedroom” for storage, I loaded them into my car. It felt like I was saving them.
While waitressing at a comedy club, I met (and five years later married) a standup comedian. I know I’m such a cliché in the comedy world. I spent a few years following him across the country (he would want me to say he was headlining). Our downtime was spent visiting antique stores and building our collection of Bugs Bunny artifacts. The antique stores exposed me to a universe of vintage items, but it was mid-century magazines like LIFE and Look that got my attention. I was mesmerized by the designs of the 1950s.
We were living in an apartment on Long Island when I bought a 1940s TV cabinet at a garage sale. Guided by who-knows-what, I switched out the tube for a set of drawers, transforming it into a dresser. I clipped a picture of a housewife standing next to a fridge from a Westinghouse ad I’d found in a Good Housekeeping magazine, blew it up and decoupaged it onto the front, creating a bureau that looked like a TV set.
That Westinghouse model was Betty Furness who, I’d learned, was more than just a pretty face. She had been a pioneer in television consumer journalism. This quintessential midcentury ‘good wife’ public persona with her contrasting consumer advocacy background was suddenly my spokesmodel. And she was still alive and kicking. I decided I would ask her for her approval of the use of her image. I can’t remember how I did this in 1989 when it was pre-internet, but I tracked her down. I left her a message at her office at NBC News New York. She replied, not only writing me a letter but calling on the phone! Of course, I missed the call… but her assistant left me a voicemail saying that Ms. Furness thought I was “gutsy, creative and terrific.” High enough praise to convince me that I was on to something.
The following year we moved to Los Angeles (my husband would want me to say a big studio paid for the move). I taught myself cabinet-making using How To manuals and expanded my appliance acquisitions to discarded vintage dryer doors, stovetops, etc. One of my early concepts was changing portable 1950s TVs into wine racks. One sold to Burt Reynolds; another boost of confidence.
While completely enjoying the process of creating art and furniture, life as an artist wasn’t very profitable. I found work at a product placement agency and learned the business of entertainment marketing. In the late 90s, I started my own agency and spent the next twenty years using the medium of television to increase awareness of my client’s products.
In 2018 I was able “retire” and spent a few months untangling my mind by doing nothing but jigsaw puzzles. But then I found myself back in the workshop and ready to produce. Without enough space to store entire console TVs, I wondered if there was some way I could just use the faces of them. I mounted one on an MDO wood panel, and my new puzzle all but completed itself.
Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
I’d say while my road hasn’t been entirely pothole free, an adaptable mindset has made the path feel less bumpy. Having spent the majority of my working life as an agency owner, I faced challenges like building a company without any work experience beyond being an employee, keeping revenue coming in during a global recession and adapting to changes in technology that would threaten my livelihood. When influencers become the focus of my client’s attention, it felt like my cue to exit and retire.
My art career presents its own set of challenges. Like product placement, I would have to start at the bottom. While not an obstacle exactly, I did have to put in the hours. I volunteered at various art events, asked endless questions, researched what other artists were doing to get attention and used that intel to sort out what would be my path forward. Unlike the competition in entertainment marketing, I’ve found artists to be inclusive and helpful. Also, artists don’t take themselves nearly as seriously, so that means they’re just plain more fun to be around.
Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?
The inspirations for my current work are pretty evident. The resurrected vintage appliances come from my Detroit dumpster rescues. The spokesmodels, journalism the graphics come (literally) from midcentury magazines. Access to these materials has gotten much easier thanks to online newspaper archives. Once all of the elements had a chance to meld, I was producing pieces that told the stories of the hypocrisy of “the good old days” of the 1950s.
The category for the art I make is one-of-a-kind mid-century modern mixed media. That’s a mouthful of hyphenates, I know! Also, because the work usually features the sheared-off face of a full-size vintage TV, they’re large-scale. It can take up a lot of wall space and dominate a room. I’m currently experimenting with smaller artifacts so I can scale it down a bit and make it more accessible.
As I mentioned, my work is based on journalism from the 1940s – 1960s, which can be a bit of a shock in this new woke era. It really shouldn’t be. With the Dobbs case overturning Roe v Wade, the flagrant dismissal and abuse of people of color and America’s draconian immigration laws, things really aren’t all that different. My pieces hope to provide the perspective of time. Progress, or the lack thereof, can only be tracked through hindsight.
I’m learning a lot about my work based on the feedback I’m getting from viewers. For instance, I didn’t set out to create specifically feminist art, but I’ve been told by many women that it is. Once the ultimate feminist artist Judy Chicago creator of the art installation, the Dinner Party, started following me on Instagram, I accepted that it was. What I was seeing as commentary, human oppression and abuse was, in fact, by a far majority, directed at women.
Can you talk to us a bit about the role of luck?
I’m not sure if I subscribe to the concept of good luck or bad luck. Because my childhood was somewhat unpredictable and out of my control, being in the habit of preparing for the unexpected gave me a sense of control. Due to this, it’s normal for me to have a Plan A, B and sometimes a Plan C. Believing in bad luck would place me in the role of a victim, while the concept of good luck suggests that recognizing an opportunity and being prepared for it isn’t actually the cause of a positive outcome. “Luck Is What Happens When Preparation Meets Opportunity “is a favorite quote of mine. Attributed to Roman philosopher Seneca, it reminds me that I make my own luck. The difference between lucky and unlucky people, at least in the Western world, is largely in our perspective.
There is an established formula of sorts for making headway in the art world and I’m trying to find alternative ways to get visibility. For instance, I created a piece called “Doomtown”, which tells the story of the atomic bomb testing site 65 miles north of Las Vegas and how Las Vegas leveraged it for tourism. When my solo show opened this past April, I sent an invitation to the Director of Curation and Exhibits at The Atomic Museum, a Smithsonian Affiliate located just off the Vegas strip. To my surprise, he responded with great enthusiasm and he invited me to have “Doomtown” hang at the museum’s entrance. Having my artwork hung at a Smithsonian Affiliate museum is beyond my wildest dreams and it wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t take a chance and extend that invitation. So the moral of this story is, make your own luck.
Contact Info:
- Website: http://julielipaartist.com/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/julielipaartist
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/julie-lipa-9336b33/
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@julielipa
Image Credits
Featured photo: Justin Kelly.
