It started small, an Instagram account spotlighting collage artists in the Philadelphia area. Now, three years in, artist and curator Jake Dombroski’s Collage Philadelphia is a thriving community working with institutions as varied as Tattooed Mom and the Barnes Foundation.
Dombroski is an artist himself, but Collage Philadelphia has led him to expand his roles into event producer, curator and all-around evangelist for his favorite artform. Through a series of exhibitions, workshops and lectures, Dombroski and his collaborators are bringing together likeminded artists and enthusiasts and promoting this particularly accessible art medium.
Collage Philadelphia’s latest exhibition is The Cutting Room Floor, open at the Athenaeum of Philadelphia through December 30. For this project, Dombroski has brought together a dozen local artists who exemplify the wide range of what collage can be. So much more than stitching together clippings from old magazines, the show features work like dollar bills carved up by Mark Wagner and Lisa S. Robert’s intricate architectural renderings made from colored paper. Together, the works embody Dombroski’s expansive understanding of collage — a technique rooted not only in the physical act of cutting but in the imaginative process of repurposing and reimagining.
As part of a partnership with Forman Arts Initiative, The Citizen caught up with Dombroski. The interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.
RJ: Why organize a group specifically around collage? Does collage have a distinct group of artists and admirers in the way that, say, impressionist art might?
Jake: There’s a real thirst for community around collage here. A number of other cities have booming scenes, and I felt like Philadelphia was missing that. There’s the Brooklyn Collage Collective, PNW Collage Collective in Portland, and similar groups across the country. I created Collage Philadelphia as a means to build a community here. I really felt like Philly was craving that. It started as an Instagram page, and now we’re a nonprofit curating exhibitions, throwing events and bringing people together.
Why do you think it is that, in all of these cities, collage people have said, “I want that community. We’re finding each other. We’re going to do events together.”
We’re a weird group of people. It’s an eccentric art form and a fun crowd. Collage is also one of the most accessible art forms. There’s a low barrier to entry. Anybody can do it. If you feel like you’re not creative, maybe you want to explore that side of yourself. Collage is a great excuse to do that. Anyone can just dive in.
How do people get involved with Collage Philadelphia?
We have “cut and sips” where you can come and make stuff. We’ve also done various exhibitions and group shows, meeting up at bars and workshops. That’s something I want to offer to expand. We’ve partnered with institutions like the Barnes Foundation and the Athenaeum of Philadelphia, which has ignited a fire to evolve beyond just a loose band of people meeting up once a month.
How do you define collage?
Some people just say cut paper. But I think collage is an idea. It is repurposing and assembling. It’s creation in one of its purest forms. It’s about taking things apart, putting them back together, and breathing new meaning into objects. Our collaboration with the Athenaeum has been a chance to explore all of that. We are at the tail end of a four-month partnership called Cull, Cut, Craft: The Legacy and Practice of Collage. That has included two exhibitions and a symposium on collage. The Cutting Room Floor, the second exhibition, is open at the Athenaeum through the end of the year.
What will a visitor find at The Cutting Room Floor that they aren’t expecting?
The breadth of work and the broad definition of collage. We have some more traditional pieces, but something that I want to instill with the exhibition is how expansive the art form is.
The assumption might be that collage means cut up magazines, or maybe a vision board.
And our more expansive definition at The Cutting Room Floor is meant to challenge the viewer.
Nothing in the exhibition looks like a vision board.
No, definitely not. And there are some pieces where collage is more a part of the process than the final piece. Emily Erb is making paintings, but collage is her source material. Maybe the final result is not a collage in a technical sense, but the idea of collage is alive within that work.
To me, one of the most interesting aspects of collage is the finality of the cut. A snip of the scissors could seem inconsequential, but not if you only have one copy of a particular photograph or magazine.
Once you make that decision, you often can’t undo it. Kensuke Koike practically meditates over an image for some time to find the perfect way to approach it. Each cut is serious and considered. And yet, his pieces have a sense of play and whimsy that exemplify the attitude of collage.
That ethos runs throughout the exhibition.
A lot of these pieces are playful. Even the more serious-looking ones have an aspect of play in them, like Mark Wagner’s work.
Money is serious business, and Mark is getting playful with it. He’s literally cutting up currency, so recognizing his materials is part of the fun. In your own art, you’re somewhat protective of your source material. You’re not saying, “This collage involved pages from National Geographic, May of 1993.” Why not?
I definitely won’t reveal all of my sources. There are certain publications that are very specific, whether it’s the time period or the subject matter. When I come across a source that I find particularly interesting, I seek out more at antique stores and flea markets, or, if I really know what I’m looking for, on eBay. I am also acutely aware that certain items and source materials aren’t going to be around forever. Magazines weren’t meant to be archival, and there’s a limited supply. We’re going to run out of a certain kind of magazine, whether that’s because the remaining copies are collecting too much mold in somebody’s basement, or because other artists have already cut them up. So I’m hoarding what I can find, and I try to approach each one with grace.
It’s an interesting tension. You’re trying to share this material with the world, but not in a way that reveals too much.
Definitely. Collage is a lot like DJing: You want to find that special record, or that 2-second sample off of a record, that resonates with people. It’s not about just playing a string of recognizable hits from the early 2000s. Hopefully, you can find a gem that your audience didn’t even know existed. Still, you might not tell them where you found it.
At this moment when people are consuming more and more mass media, but that consumption is increasingly digital, is collage becoming more or less relevant?
Collage is more relevant than it’s ever been. Maybe people associate collage with punk rock or other niche scenes, but these days collage is an accessible mainstream tool. At Collage Philadelphia, we have people that have been collaging for 40 years sitting alongside people making their first collages. Our community is only growing, and that’s so exciting.
RJ Rushmore is a writer, curator and public art advocate. He is the founder of the street art blog Vandalog and culture-jamming campaign Art in Ad Places. As a curator, he has collaborated with Poster House, Mural Arts Philadelphia, The L.I.S.A. Project NYC and Haverford College. Rushmore’s writing has appeared in Hyperallergic, Juxtapoz, Complex and numerous books. He holds a B.A. in Political Science from Haverford College, where his thesis investigated controversies in public art.
This story is part of a partnership between The Philadelphia Citizen and Forman Arts Initiative to highlight creatives in every neighborhood in Philadelphia. It will run on both The Citizen and FAI’s websites.
