The MCR Interview
Tim Biskup on “Graphite Memory” and ‘Drifting Agency’
Few contemporary artists move as fluidly between illustration, design, painting, and improvisational drawing as Tim Biskup [TB]. In conjunction with his exhibition Drifting Agency at the Haley Gallery which begins on May 21st, Biskup spoke with Music City Review [MCR] about the evolving language of his “Graphite Memory” drawings—works that blur the line between instinct and intention, trance and technique. Reflecting on repetition, surrender, performance, and the subconscious residue of decades spent making images, Biskup offers a candid look into a practice driven as much by intuition as craft.
Graphite on Paper
12” x 9”
Signed on Verso
MCR: Your “Graphite Memory” drawings feel both controlled and improvisatory—what exactly are you “remembering” as you work? Is it visual, physical, or something more intuitive?
TB: I came up with the name Graphite Memory because making these drawings is a bit like déjà vu, which is when your brain tells you that what you are seeing is a memory, rather than a new experience. When I’m drawing like this I’m caught somewhere between thinking about what I want to do and experiencing what’s actually happening faster than I’m able to adjust my desire. It feels like I’m in a sort of trance and then I have the drawing, so my experience of this work is mostly a memory.
MCR: These pieces often look like they’re unfolding in real time. Do you begin with a fixed idea, or do you allow the drawing to discover itself as it develops?
TB: Most of the time I just start at the bottom left corner and start pushing the graphite around. Whatever happens from there is pretty much a surprise. I’ll mix it up by starting in the middle or turning the page sideways. Sometimes I’ll look at a specific page in my sketchbook or at someone else’s art or old design books. That sets me off on another path.
MCR: The title Drifting Agency suggests a balance between control and surrender. Where do you locate yourself between those two states when you’re drawing?
TB: I like that interpretation. When I came up with that title I knew it could be taken in many different ways. I think surrendering is a key life-skill, but you have to be good at what you do.
MCR: This exhibition brings together 60 works—do you think of them as individual pieces, or as part of a larger system or evolving visual language?
TB: They’re all little moments of my life, so I think of them as evidence of those moments. I can feel something about where I was at, mentally when I made each one. Sometimes they tell detailed stories of what a was going through, so it’s definitely a language. I don’t imagine anyone else reading it like I do, though.
MCR: Graphite is such a minimal, almost austere medium. What does it allow you to explore that your painting or sculptural work doesn’t?
TB: I’ve gone through so many ways of thinking about it. It feels like a form of therapy or meditation. It changed the way I think about mark-making so that when I’m using a pencil or brush or mouse I use it differently. I have slowed down and I take more time with shapes. My pen & pencil lines are more sketchy. I back-track and finesse shapes more. I guess it’s refined my understanding of form.
MCR: Your forms often repeat but never quite resolve the same way twice. What role does repetition—and variation—play in your process?
Graphite on Paper
12” x 9”
Signed on Verso
TB: The paper that I use is a key to these drawings. It’s inherently ephemeral because of its content. The thing that makes it good for this type of drawing also makes it volatile. Knowing that helps me to think outside of my normal restraints, like the future of the object or the value of the materials. I can experiment endlessly. What comes out is always going to look like my work because of the technique and because I’m just being myself. My job after the drawings are made is to edit. I discard something like half of them.
MCR: You’ve presented this work live, including at Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles. How does drawing in front of an audience shift your sense of risk or decision-making?
TB: Making drawings while people are watching adds intimacy to the work. The more of a connection I have to the person I’m making the drawing for the more they will have an impact on what comes out. I do feel more pressure to make something good but I trust that I can do it. Some of my favorite drawings were made for specific people while they were present. It’s got an element of tarot and caricature because I’m interpreting what I’m picking up from them.
MCR: In a gallery setting like the Haley, viewers encounter the finished object rather than the act. How do you think the meaning of the work changes between those contexts?
TB: It’s completely different! I don’t think people have to see me make the work to connect with it. These pieces are finished and they contain all of the context that they need.
When I’m making drawings there is the unknown. That is where the fire is for me but it’s there in the finished work.
MCR: Your background in animation and illustration is evident in the precision of your line. How has that training shaped the way you think about movement and form in these drawings?
TB: Working with the requirements of storytelling and technology was great training. I gathered a lot of skills that I would think about while I was working. I knew when they were in play and how I was getting the results that I needed. When I left animation I stopped thinking about those specific skills but they didn’t go away. They became more subconscious. I’ve learned to trust my skills.
MCR: Where do you feel this “Graphite Memory” language is pushing you next—what are you not yet able to do with it?
TB: I’ve been doing this for about 15 years and it has never stopped being interesting to me. The main changes have been in how I connect with other people and how the work is presented. I’ve been doing more individual sessions where I make a series of drawings for someone. That feels like an important step. I’ve also been incorporating more of the look of this technique into my paintings. I’ll keep pushing that.
Throughout the conversation, Biskup returns repeatedly to the tension between control and release—between learned skill and the unpredictable act of discovery. Whether created privately in the studio or live before an audience, the “Graphite Memory” drawings emerge as records of fleeting psychological states: intimate, improvisational, and deeply human. What results is not simply a body of work, but an evolving visual language that continues to expand through trust, repetition, and the willingness to follow uncertainty wherever it leads.
Graphite on Paper
24” x 36”
Signed on Verso
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