Exploring Identity and Reflection in Alex Da Corte's Art

The cover of our new Summer issue features a detail from The End, a painting by artist Alex Da Corte. Da Corte's work spans disciplines, including film, sculpture, installation, and performance, where he adopts personas such as Eminem, Mister Rogers, and the Pink Panther. Recently, I visited his studio in Philadelphia, a tucked-away space filled with eclectic props and artwork. Our conversation meandered through the influence of icons like Judy Garland and Mariah Carey, including deep dives into Carey’s 1999 album, Rainbow. During our lunch break, Da Corte treated me to a memorable tuna salad while we continued our discussion.

Artist and Fan: A Personal Connection

INTERVIEWER

Can you explain your piece The End?

ALEX DA CORTE

The End is what I refer to as a CD painting, crafted on plexiglass to partially obscure the cover art of Mariah Carey’s Rainbow.

INTERVIEWER

Listening to “Heartbreaker” last night, I was struck by her talent. Why this album resonates with you?

DA CORTE

I probably shouldn't dwell too much on my admiration for her, but I was actually a member of the Mariah Carey fan club in the late '80s, and I started writing letters to her when I was quite young. Discovering her Venezuelan heritage resonated deeply with me, as my father is also Venezuelan. When I first encountered Rainbow at eighteen, my relationship to music and my own identity was evolving, and I found myself revisiting it just yesterday.

Defining CD Paintings

INTERVIEWER

What exactly is a “CD painting”?

DA CORTE

These paintings stem from an interest in the readymade concept, closely associated with Marcel Duchamp. It's about found objects too. Looking back at how I first engaged with music, the album cover was a major draw. Despite it being static, the cover gets marked over time—scratches, wear all transfer a sort of presence onto the music itself. My CD paintings illustrate this transference. They were created by taking liner notes from beloved albums—like those from Janet Jackson, Madonna, and Mariah Carey—scanning them, then having them made into flags. These images are printed on fabric, stretched as one would typically stretch a canvas. On top of that, I layered plexiglass and painted to obscure parts of the printed flag’s imagery.

Breaking Down Representation

INTERVIEWER

What was your intention behind removing Mariah from the image?

DA CORTE

This removal was meant to grant the rainbow a sense of freedom while allowing viewers to interject their identities into that visual space. It’s reminiscent of early shopping arcades where people would see their reflections alongside mannequin displays and imagine themselves in those clothes. By redacting Mariah, I aimed to create a platform for others to embrace the rainbow, which also carries associations with Judy Garland and the LGBTQ+ community—people who connect over the promise of what the rainbow symbolizes. For me, the rainbow is intertwined with hope, albeit one that remains elusive. As a closeted youth, the album encouraged me to imagine donning those colors. Eliminating the figure from the art allows for a realization of that long-held desire in me.

Exploring Labor and Visibility

INTERVIEWER

Did your video also emerge from this desire?

DA CORTE

In 2017, I came across a photograph of someone painting Mariah Carey’s backside for the album cover, which made me reflect on the unseen labor behind images. This sparked the idea for my video. Each visual we see has a significant backstory—someone had to set up the lighting, capture the moment. My 2018 film Rubber Pencil Devil remixed fifty-seven scenes from various cultural snapshots I’ve gathered, narrated while I dressed as Mister Rogers. Revealing the effort that goes into seemingly simple visuals was essential for me. The video additionally features a title card that reads LIVE + LET LIVE, inspired by a mural created by local plumber Denny outside my studio. He would paint different messages for every holiday. One month, there was just this phrase without any specific context, capturing both simplicity and depth. Like the rainbow, it serves to beckon contemplation rather than action; we were never taught how to engage with such beauty.

Hazel Byers is the Review’s engagement editor.