Nell Slaughter’s Paper Collages Capture Her and Her Father’s New York City

Nell Slaughter invites viewers into her meticulously paper-cut world in “Slaughter on 10th Ave” showing at Jim Kempner Fine Art in New York from July 11 to August 4, 2024. In this interview, Slaughter delves into her creative process, sources of inspiration, and the profound impact of her late father, Tom Slaughter. 

Inspired by New York City storefronts, childhood memories, and enchanting daily moments, Nell’s approach to collage is both methodical and intuitive. Using a vast collection of pre-cut paper materials organized by color, shape, and theme, she constructs scenes with a blend of spontaneous creativity and embraces “happy little accidents” along the way, culminating in works that vividly bring her process to life. A self-professed tech-illiterate artist, Slaughter avoids digital tools, favoring hands-on manipulation and analog experimentation to achieve unique textures and effects. Preparing for the show involved a swift turnaround as she juggled a children’s book project while finalizing pieces she had been working on for years to exhibit. Her collection in “Slaughter on 10th Ave” blends hyper-obsessive detail with the spontaneity of last-minute creation, and also features works by her late father, Tom Slaughter, whose influence is evident across Nell’s creations. Their shared depiction of the urban landscape reflects a personal yet universally relatable vision of the best city in the world. 

The following interview offers insight into an artist who transforms paper into vivid narratives, capturing the essence of her environment and personal history. Through her craftsmanship and vision, Nell Slaughter continues to build upon her father’s legacy through each and every one of her distinctly cut compositions. 

Clare Gemima: Nell, it was such a pleasure to meet you at your recent opening, and congratulations on “Slaughter on Tenth Ave.” Given that you’ve created many of the paper collages this year, I’m curious—how long did it take you to prepare for this show?

Nell Slaughter: It was great to meet you, too! Thank you so much for coming. To be totally honest, it was a very quick turnaround, as I was still finishing a children’s book project when I learnt that the show would be happening. Jim Kempner asked me for some work, so I rifled through my in-progress pieces and got to work finishing what I had started over the last several years. The only piece that’s 100% new is The Studio, which I started the night before the show, even though I had been constructing it in my brain for a long time beforehand. 

Clare Gemima: How do you decide which buildings, friends, artists, or interiors to depict in paper miniatures? Do your collages derive from photographs you’ve taken or found, or are they constructed based on memory, imagination, or something else entirely?

Nell Slaughter: I take pictures constantly in preparation for collage references. The smallest detail of a building will catch my eye, or the way someone’s organized their clutter. I see little paper collages everywhere I look. I also tend to want to memorialize things that are temporary—like NYC storefronts, or restaurants from my childhood that are gone now. City staples like these ones, that were so iconic to me growing up. The most personal (and favorite) pieces of mine are made more from memory. I like to let go of the principles of perspective, and just think about the little details that make a place/person/object so special, then recreate those details out of paper. Sometimes having a visual reference in my face is helpful, and sometimes it just hinders the process. 

Commissions I find a lot harder because I’ve usually never set eyes on the thing/person/house/place that I’m recreating beforehand—and the vision of a place is so subjective. Also, because the pieces have physical depth to them, the viewer’s perspective changes depending on the angle you view the piece. The way the pieces are lit also has a huge impact on their outcome, like how their shadows fall. So, if I’m recreating strictly from a 2D photograph, I have to imagine or invent the elements that might be hidden by the camera’s perspective.

Clare Gemima: How do you prepare to make a collage in your studio—are your motifs pre-cut, indexed and stored, or cut on demand? 

Nell Slaughter: I have a pretty extensive collection of tiny pre-cut paper bits. I have started feeding my cat a specific type of food so I can recycle the containers for my paper storage; I have weekly pill boxes and ceramic egg cartons full of color/shape/theme coded paper scraps. Every once in a while I’ll try to reduce my storage by making a series of similar pieces. One example is the greenhouse series. Kind of like print-making, but with paper scraps. Something I really like about this craft is that each project is a learning process. What I see in my head or the way I think paper will fold/glue/look often comes out differently than I imagined it would. Some of my favorite moments come from doing low-pressure paper-scrap studies—like Bob Ross says, “happy little accidents.” Tucking one corner of paper behind another can change its perception drastically, and when I’m just messing about is when I learn the most.

Clare Gemima: You use an enormous range of colored and patterned paper to construct highly detailed objects that have various surfaces, volumes and opacities. Everything from chairs, textiles, gravelly sidewalks and stained New York streets. Do you ever digitally print onto your own paper? Also, generally speaking, where do you source your materials from?

Nell Slaughter: I never digitally print onto paper. I rarely do anything digital in my work at all. It’s a bit of a running joke among anyone who knows me, but I’m pretty tech-illiterate. I think using Photoshop or Illustrator would help enormously in my work—planning pieces or resizing bits, or even for selling my work—but I struggle immensely with it. 

Part of the reason I started this medium to begin with is because I was never strong at drawing and painting—the classic skills you need to be a “real artist” (color theory, a handle on perspective)—but one noticeable evolution in my work is the amount of manipulation I do to the paper. When I first started out, I would try to buy paper as close to the color that I needed to use, but over time I’ve started to watercolor or block print on all/most of the paper I use. For example, I used to buy gingham paper from the scrapbook section of Michaels, but now I’ve made a gingham linoleum block so I have full control over the color/size/contrast of the paper. I’m always experimenting and changing my approach to paper—spray bottles with watercolor in them, mono-printing, sponge printing. Each method creates a different texture and outcome. Cyanotype prints make beautiful seas and skies. I also sometimes use found paper. I collect scraps from wherever I can.

Clare Gemima: Could you shed some light on the story behind “Untitled (Stella),” 2024? Did you have a relationship with Frank Stella?

Nell Slaughter: On Saturdays I go to Waverly Diner with my people, and one weekend he happened to be there. I really like Jason Polan’s work, and the way he would illustrate low-key New Yorkers doing their daily, to create quick-glimpse sketches, and this is sort of my paper version of that idea. 

Clare Gemima: Which other artists working in collage, paper, or paper collage specifically interest you at the moment? Is there anyone that comes to mind when you begin to work in your studio? 

Nell Slaughter: Both of my parents have a long working relationship with cut paper and always encouraged it. Their styles are both very different—my mother illustrates children’s books with her paper collages, and my dad uses the medium as more of a way to paint with negative space. I grew up with so much appreciation for Matisse’s paper cuts. Social media has expanded my roster of favorite artists, of course. These include but are not limited to: Cybele Young, Hattie Newman, Peter Callesen, Elena Skoreyko, Clover Robin, and Sophie Blackall. 

Clare Gemima: Your late father, Tom Slaughter, also has work in “Slaughter on Tenth Ave.” Known for his boldly colored paintings and prints that explore contemporary urban life through intensive colors and graphic line drawings, how has your father’s approach to blending fine art and commercial design influenced your own practice? In what ways do you see his exploration of contemporary urban life reflected in your own work?

Nell Slaughter: It’s hard to see what ways his life and work is not reflected in mine. We both depict the neighborhood we spent so much time in, as a way of capturing the city—or our vision or version of the city. For both I think there’s something broadly representative but also very intimate and personal about our work. My dad’s work is very approachable and translatable. I can say now, reflecting on it, that I really admire those qualities, and hope there’s some of them in my work. He was also extremely prolific, and constantly creating. 

Clare Gemima: Can you share any insights or stories about how your father approached the creation of his diverse range of works, from paintings to posters, clothing, playbills, and wallpaper?

Nell Slaughter: When I was growing up, Tom was mostly painting and doing prints (silkscreens, woodblocks). But as I got older he started branching out into more commercial products, putting out children’s books with my mom and coming out with towels, wallpaper, skateboards, umbrellas, and so on. He was always so thrilled with a new product, and was super excited to put his work on anything. That’s sort of where the prolificness also came through. I can picture him smoking, squinting at a canvas. He was a painter first. But he never said no to moving the original work in new directions. It just translated well. 

Clare Gemima: Do you have a favorite piece of your father’s work in the exhibition, and if so, what makes it special to you? How did growing up with an artist like Tom shape your perspective on the legitimacy of being a multidisciplinary maker? 

Nell Slaughter: I love the windows. They are so familiar to me from growing up in a space where his work was as big as the walls, and every view from our windows actually looked like his pieces. When I walk through Soho now, I see all the cast-iron buildings as Tom Slaughter paintings. There’s something amazing about a really big canvas. The flashe paint is so flat and bold, and the scale of the painting’s motifs are extremely powerful. I am partial to his depiction of windows, because they are the view I grew up looking through. When you’re so enveloped in those colors and that imagery—a hundred percent of the time—it sort of just becomes your vision of the city.

“Slaughter on 10th Ave” is on view at Jim Kempner Fine Art in New York until August 4.