“We are not to throw away those things which can benefit our neighbor. Goods are called good because they can be used for good: They are instruments for good, in the hands of those who use them properly.”
— Clement of Alexandria
The statistics are grim. In today’s disposable society, Americans throw away approximately 4.6 pounds of trash each day. Every year, we trash enough paper and plastic cups, forks and spoons to circle the equator 300 times. We use approximately 1 billion shopping bags annually, which creates 300,000 tons of landfill waste, and 38,000 miles of ribbon are thrown away each year, enough to tie a bow around the Earth.
Thankfully, there are people like Lance Pawling who are willing to take one man’s (or woman’s) trash and turn it into treasure. The Philly-based artist creates goods from found objects and revels in transforming often-broken and unwanted objects into new, unexpected pieces.
PGN: So, tell me about yourself. LP: I grew up in Bucks County, in a small historical Quaker town called Fallsington that the suburbs tried to engulf. Up near the Oxford Valley Mall, Sesame Place, that area.
PGN: What were you like as a child? LP: I didn’t talk much. I was a quiet, shy little kid. It wasn’t until years later that I discovered that, when I opened my mouth, sound could come out.
PGN: Siblings? LP: I have an older brother, Eric, who made it his responsibility to pummel me at least once a day. We get along great now, but we didn’t really then. We’re about six years apart, so he was always bigger, always stronger.
PGN: I was skinny with a lot of hair so my brother once tried to turn me upside-down to use me as a human broom. What was Eric’s worst stunt? LP: He would wedge me into the space between the wall and the refrigerator. One time, I was stuck in there until my mom got home from work.
PGN: At least you could get something to eat. LP: [Laughs.] That’s true.
PGN: And what did the parental units do? LP: My mother worked for the State of New Jersey, Department of Corrections, and my stepfather worked at a steel mill.
PGN: Wow, they sound like they were both tough cookies. LP: Oh yeah. PGN: What was school like for you? Favorite and least-favorite class? LP: Well, my favorite classes were always art classes. I always excelled working with my hands. I was never really good in, like, English. I never cared for gym class either, but I don’t know too many kids who did.
PGN: Favorite teacher? LP: My favorite teacher was John Whiteknight. I was out in high school and it was not a very pleasant experience, but one great thing that came of it was that with the help of Mr. Whiteknight, we went to the school board and started the first Gay/Straight Alliance in a Bucks County school. It’s still there today, and I’ve met people here in Philly who went to that school and joined that GSA. It’s a nice feeling.
PGN: How appropriate that Whiteknight came to your rescue. How or why did you come out so early? LP: Yes, a great name. I realized that I was gay at a very young age and, as hard as they sound with their careers, my family was actually very, very supportive. My mother immediately became a PFLAG mom. I was kind of obvious: I was voted most “individualistic” at my school in my senior year. I had striped blond hair, and I would alter and make my own clothing. I mean, when I was walking down the hall, you didn’t miss me. So I stopped denying that I was gay and it wasn’t the easiest thing, but looking back I’m glad I did it.
PGN: College? LP: Yes, I got a degree in photography at Antonelli Institute.
PGN: What’s your day job now? LP: I work at the Philadelphia Museum of Art in the finance department.
PGN: That’s cool. You’re surrounded by beauty all day. LP: And the people there are amazing — curators, all the staff. Everyone is wonderful.
PGN: Finance seems so straight-laced. How did that happen? LP: I’m very organized and I have excellent time-management skills. I kind of like working in finance because it’s very routine. Every month, week, fiscal year, every audit, I know exactly what to expect. It gives me a sense of stability because the rest of my life is just … everywhere.
PGN: What’s your favorite section of the museum? LP: I love our costumes and textiles department. They just opened a new exhibition with the works of fashion designer Ronaldus Shamask. I love working with fabrics so it’s always intrigued me. PGN: I see they have a new Cy Twombly exhibit. [Laughs.] I have a sometimes-strained relationship with modern art. LP: Yeah, some of it can be a stretch, like, “Are you sure that’s art?”
PGN: Tell me about your artistry. LP: Well, I do fine art and performance art. The fine art is made all out of found and donated objects. I’ve been in several shows throughout the area. It’s always changing; I’ll do things like make a collage work out of playing cards or, right now, I work a lot with lampshades that I find. I’ll put lace, or 35mm negatives or old movie reels that I found on the inside and cover it with cloth on the outside. That way when the light is off, you just see the fabric but when it’s turned on you see the shadow of the lace or the negatives or anything translucent that I’m able to get my hands on. It gives a warm glow that’s unique and interesting. I also do a lot of hand embroidering and I’m very good with sewing machines. For instance, I found a T-shirt with Ben Franklin on it and I embroidered him into a drag queen. Right now I’m working on a commissioned piece that’s an embroidered family tree.
PGN: When did your dumpster-diving career start? LP: When I was a kid, my mom found a 4-foot piece of tubing from a telephone pole. We cut it open and there were these brass wires in all different colors inside. I started making anything and everything out of them. That was the start of making things from found objects. When I moved to Philly, there was just so much that people throw away in this town that, you know, I just had to collect it. [Laughs.] My house is completely packed full. I’m not quite ready to be featured on an episode of “Hoarders” but I’m getting there.
PGN: What’s a favorite find? LP: A couple. There was an old mission church near where I live and so I have an 8-foot arched window with amber color glass. I also have a barber chair I found and an 8-foot cornice from the top of a row home. It was in a dumpster and a friend and I carried it for 15 blocks.
PGN: You dumpster dive on foot? LP: Oh yes. I very happily got rid of my car years ago. I live on my bike now.
PGN: Speaking of, I understand you have a lot of bike-work art? LP: Yes, I have a small garden in the back of my house. I’ve covered the entire yard in bike parts from the ground to the top. There are probably about 20 bicycles if you were to put them together. I’ve trained the vines that were back there to grow through the tire spokes. When I was taking the bikes apart, I noticed that the rear cogs made the most beautiful sound when they hit each other, so I started putting them aside and making wind chimes out of them. I love taking something we see every day and turning it into something new. A lot of time, people will come up to me and say, “Wow. I would never have even thought of that!” That’ll inspire them to put a twist on it which they’ll show me and then it will inspire me to look at it differently again and do a whole new piece. It’s a beautiful constant flow of recreating and changing.
PGN: And it’s good for the environment. LP: Aww, yeah!
PGN: What about your performance art? LP: I’ve been with the Dumpsta Players for about 11 or 12 years and I’m in my second year with LICK, the Liberty City Kings. It’s so much fun; there’s no feeling quite like being up on stage and hearing the applause and having everyone laugh when you do something funny. It’s so wonderful. It’s my favorite thrill. I’ve played a wide assortment of characters over the years with a number of different groups.
PGN: I read the Dumpsta’s bio, which said, “We are a themed theatre experience that parodies society’s joys and ills in an irreverent and over-the-top style.” Do you do much political work? LP: It varies— not in every show— but we just did a show recently called “Silence of The Shams,” which has a little more political stuff in it. I’m playing Michelle Bachman.
PGN: What’s a key theme in your performances? LP: I’m very big on hair and merkins. So I’ll put three or four wigs together into one massive headpiece that will rise 3 or 4 feet high towards the ceiling. It can be adorned with a wide assortment of stuff. I’ve had Santa Claus riding in a sleigh with Jesus in my hair, Easter baskets, birdcages, pretty much anything I can get my hands on. A merkin is a Victorian faux hairpiece for your [He whistles.] I’ll use them to flash the audience, give them a little thrill.
PGN: Working in the film industry, I’m familiar with the term merkin. We used one when shooting the nude scenes in “Beloved.” They’re so silly. LP: [Laughs.] No one would ever dispute that point. I don’t know why they ever needed them, but I’m glad they’re there. I’ve also recently started making paper outfits, so from head to toe — well, not the shoes — my outfit is made of paper. Since I’ve been with LICK, I’ve been learning burlesque and boy-lesque. So in my act now, I rip the outfit in pieces as I go. For instance, I’ve been doing Joan Jett’s “Do You Want to Touch Me?” and keep ripping off parts of the outfit until I’m down to paper pasties with paper tassels and a paper merkin.
PGN: What would be of chief concern to you if you were picking the theme? LP: One thing that really bothers me is how badly some groups are treated. A lot of people aren’t accepting of the trans community, for instance. Definitely in the hetero community, but even in the gay community it’s still treated as taboo and that irritates me a lot. When I hear people that I respect and that I enjoy being around make transphobic remarks, it’s very hard for me to understand. We should accept people for who they are regardless of who they become.
PGN: One of my upcoming interviews is with Chaz Bono and we touch on that a bit. He said that, surprisingly, it was the Republican side of the family that accepted him more readily than the Democratic “liberal” side of the family. LP: Wow! Can’t wait to read that.
PGN: Are you single or dating? LP: I’m dating a guy named Eric. I’m actually at his place in New York right now while he’s at church for choir practice.
PGN: Are you a religious person? LP: Not really. I’m agnostic at best. [Laughs.] If you have to give it a label. Though my grandfather was a Northern Baptist minister, not to be confused with Southern Baptist, and he’s probably the most amazing man I will ever have known. Hands down. A kind and wonderful person. So was my grandmother and all of my great-aunts and uncles. I spent a lot of time with them growing up. They all lived in Philly and then they all moved to Cape May together. I spent my summers with them. My grandmother and a wonderful assortment of blue-haired great-aunts were the ones who taught me how to sew and embroider.
PGN: Was your biological father in the picture? LP: Not really. My parents got divorced when I was young and he pretty much abandoned my brother and me. He passed away two years ago of liver failure. I did forgive him at the end, which he was grateful for.
PGN: Did you ever come out to him? LP: Not officially, but if he ever Googled my name, I’m sure he would have figured it out. Plus, his mother used to call me “the gay one,” so I think they had a pretty good idea.
PGN: OK, now for some random questions. Ever been in a parade? LP: I have. I’ve been in several parades. In fact, we were just on the Tabu float in the Pride Parade and won the grand prize fruit bowl.
PGN: What natural element would you be? LP: I would be water, because it flows and finds its way down the path to where it wants to go. It can be hard or soft: it also freezes and evaporates. It does it all! But it’s always still the same element. PGN: Worst stage mishap? LP: Oh, ho ho. To narrow it down … I work a lot with reveals that are unexpected. I’ll come out in a mini-skirt and take that off to reveal a full-length gown. When you’re doing that type of performance art, it’s easy to get stuck — no matter how many times you rehearse it or how much thought you’ve put into it. Sometimes you can get a laugh out of it, but it’s still terrible when the number is playing and you’re still singing but your costume is stuck in a knot that you can’t undo. It’s the worst.
PGN: Have you heard of Freeganism? It’s the practice of recycling food that’s been thrown away. LP: Oh, when it comes to food I’m worthless. I hate to cook. I have one dish that I make, crock-pot chili, and it’s all I eat. I eat the exact same thing every day for lunch, day after day, year after year. It drives my coworkers insane.
PGN: Finally, what painting would you want to be able to enter? LP: There’s a Frida Kahlo painting called “The Two Fridas” that’s a self-portrait of her in Native garb holding the hand of herself in more Western garb. I believe her father was European and her mother was Spanish and Indian. In the painting, her heart is exposed and dripping blood and she’s holding a pair of forceps clamped on to the vein but there are spatters of blood on her dress. I’d love to get in there and talk to her because I know that struggle of having two halves. Like my drag half and my male half, my work half and my artist half. I’d like to talk to her about life and duality.