Brooklyn-based conceptual art collective, MSCHF, whose solo show, ART 2, is on view this spring at the newly opened Perrotin outpost in Los Angeles, know a lot about Gettin’ Around—the theme of this issue, and thus their nomination to participate in the conception and creation of its Art Cover.

With a semi-anonymous team of visual artists, programmers, fabricators, and thread spinners, MSCHF’s multidisciplinary interventions challenge, subvert, expose, and shine a light on the absurdity of life in the 21st century and the myriad of systems that govern us. In “Met’s Sink of Theseus,” (2024), MSCHF deconstructed, piece by piece, a functioning sink from The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, (replacing each part as they went along we should note).

MSCHF’s output ranges from painting to sculpture, participatory to commercial, a satirical line or lack thereof, which they continue to cross, uncross, and run circles around. With the aptly named, “Microscopic Handbags” (2023), MSCHF used a biomedical technique to create a precision liquid resin micro-fabrication or, refabrication, in this case, of bags, less than .03 inches wide, from renowned fashion houses including: Bottega Veneta, Gucci, Hermès, Jacquemus, and Telfar.

In 2022, with MSCHF’s Drop #84 Key4All, the collective explored the question of what would happen when several thousand people across the country are given keys to a single GPS-monitored functioning PT Cruiser. The real-life grand theft auto-chop shopped-spray-painted remnants of which are on view at the gallery.

MSCHF has gone on to create a range of clothing, much of which is available in limited quantity drops on their website, so when the request for a cover creation began to percolate, a high gloss photoshoot with MSCHF’s studio mascot, a rat—whose ever-evolving naming rights can be purchased for $3 on the MSCHF-operated live rat cam and website ratchat.chat—was an obvious choice.

To become better acquainted with our new friend of the mag and cover star, we sat down with the MSCHF rat to discuss their self-care, cringe gallery openings, new names, new beginnings, and keeping up with the rat race. 

How would you describe your “me time” and is it difficult to carve it out amongst all your other activities?

You know, I am for the most part nocturnal, which has its advantages and disadvantages. On the upside, I get my best time to myself because the rest of MSCHF is asleep. On the downside, whenever I’m called upon to model or attend social events, it’s usually when I’d rather be sleeping. Still, with a little mindfulness, I’ve found a good rhythm. I make time to gnaw cardboard and nest, and fortunately, I have an assistant who manages my engagements so I can focus on my performance.

As a fashion plate and now cover star, do you feel pressure to have “the perfect body”? If so, how does this expectation perhaps find cultural shift and change?

When you’re on camera all the time like I am, you have to make some kind of internal peace with the idea of yourself as a spectacle or lose your mind. For me, I’ve come to understand my image as a singular representation of myself. I am an archetypical rat, and so as long as I present true to my nature, I am making an accurate, fitting representation.

What is one thing you’ve observed about MSCHF in the past that you feel they’d be embarrassed about?

They’re constantly destroying their own studio. For a hot second they had all these throwing knives, and at first it was all good fun chucking them at the wall, but the group can’t stop themselves from escalating and in this case they ended up slicing up all the cushions on their couches until they were forced to replace the furniture. MSCHF constantly commits to the bit even to their own detriment.

On the topic of embarrassment, what’s the most cringe thing you tend to experience when observing the general public at art exhibition openings? 

Well, for me personally, it’s the gallery-going public’s general ignorance that I am there. I think there were only a half-dozen or so folks who saw me while I was at the Perrotin space in Los Angeles last month. I understand that it’s hard to see a rat on the gallery floor when all the work tends to be mounted up at human eye level, but I am a celebrity after all.

MSCHF recently had an amusing and press-getting spoof on the Met Museum. What is your relationship like with amusement, and do you feel the world perhaps needs it now more than ever?

Humor is an excellent tool for creative work! It draws you in, makes things approachable, and gives a general audience multiple levels on which to enjoy the work. “Met’s Sink of Theseus” taps into an amusingly rich tradition of bathroom-fixture sculpture, from Duchamp’s “Fountain” to Cattelan’s “America.” I’m sure someone has done something with an automated hand dryer and such–if any curators read this, it would be an incredible show to pull together the entire contents of a public restroom out of artworks.

Does it get dizzying changing your name so often? If so, please describe the experience. If not, what’s your secret? 

Sometimes it gets confusing! When I received your questions my name was Haha Chris, now writing this it’s PippaPip. But identity is mutable! Something the MSCHF team talks about a lot is the idea of being chameleonic, changing as much as necessary to serve the delivery of each individual work. They’re a “company” or an “artist group” that works in a dozen or more different industries, and keeps redrawing their logo from scratch. I’m a rat whose name changes everytime someone on the internet with three dollars and dream wants it to. We’re good company for each other.

What is some advice you might offer to your three-month-old self?

You’re going to love bananas. If you see that shit, make a beeline for it. My only regret is I didn’t taste them sooner.

What is special about MSCHF? Do you feel lucky to have found them?

Sure do! Their cool Brazilian intern is contractually obligated to clean my cage. 

Written by Bennett DiDonna