Artist Statement (Or, Reading the Visual)

In July, I completely rewrote my artist statement, partly in preparation for applying to graduate school and partly because sitting down and thinking about why I make what I do feels vital to continuing and growing within my chosen art form.

Of all the definitions of what an artist statement is or what it does, this description gave me pause: Your artist's statement can be a moving testament to your creativity and integrity. The expression of this commitment will vary, but the effectiveness of your artist's statement stems from the authority with which you write it. I was taken aback, mostly because I've never thought of myself as an authority on anything, especially not art making. In my mind, I simply did what I did, from a very specific point of view. I didn't realize it at the time, but in doing that, I had authority. With art, I have the power to influence or command thought, opinion, or behavior. All I needed to do is find it and broadcast it to the world.

But first, I had to find the words with which I could communicate that authority, that power. More importantly, I needed to believe that I had it and show it in my work as well as in the ways I write and speak of that work.

After lots of writing, using the questions on the above-linked site as a guide, I feel this statement is my way of beginning to claim that power, that authority:

My artistic practice stems from my history of trauma, of being cast aside, of not knowing, of being made to feel unsafe, unwanted, and without value because of gender, race, culture and sexual identity. I examine and deconstruct the relationships between feeling a sense of "otherness" and developing a perception of self that seeks connections and strives to find beauty in contrasts as well as the links between urban life, identity, memory, nature, personal mythology, and magical-spiritual belief. In trying to find my voice, I endeavor, as Frida Kahlo said, to “paint my own reality”. The female form is incorporated into many of my works, even as I question the idea of femininity. It is the body into which I was born; I use it as symbol, as metaphor, as a vessel that holds hundreds of thousands of years of stories in its ample bosom and the curves of waists, hips, thighs, and stomachs. My works are about changing identities, giving birth over and over again to new and varied definitions of self as we go through the changes of life. Urban imagery often overlaps that of the natural world, as do the ideas of privilege and disadvantage, hope and despair, roughness and healing.I use a variety of media. Each process--painting, printmaking, collage, and mixed media-- transforms both my materials and the way I think about them into something new and different, as we are changed when we share ourselves and our stories with others. Story is how I was first taught history; my art is deeply rooted in both.

6x6 Summer Blog Tour!

When I first heard about 6x6, I was excited, in awe of two women that could put together such an amazing project...and of course, I wanted to learn more. I got a chance to ask Kesha Bruce, co-director of Baang and Burne Contemporary Art a few questions about the business of art in general and 6x6 specifically. A common theme was relationships between artists, their art, and audiences. Here's what she shared:

Nyela: You say selling art is about building relationships...but with whom? How?
Kesha: I always tell my consulting clients: “Stop hunting Unicorns!” By that I mean--understand that most “art collectors” don’t walk around calling themselves “art collectors”. It’s not a job title. Just think about the last 3 people who bought one of your artworks. Were they rich celebrity “art collectors” that sit on museum boards and give thousands of dollars each year to art foundations? If so, great! But most likely it was a person who really liked the work, and really liked you, and decided to buy your work. They are an art collector.

Artists need to make a habit of consistently staying in touch my e-mail and by snail mail with people that show interest in their work. Every artist should constantly be adding new people to their mailing list. These people are your collector base!

Nyela: How can artists work together to promote their work?
Kesha: Obviously, I think more artists should get together and produce their own exhibitions. It doesn’t have to be a big production or even a formal, tradition exhibition for that matter. It could be as simple as 3 artists getting together and each hanging 5 pieces of artwork in someone’s living room for an evening. These type of smaller intimate events are a great way to invite people to see your new work in a more laid back fun way.

I say this all the time: Other artists aren’t your competition. They’re your greatest allies. Always remember that.

Nyela: How did you pick the group of artists that would be exhibiting in 6x6? Do they have any particular thing in common in terms of style or theme?
Kesha: There’s a lot of truth to the saying “It’s all about who you know.” When Charlie Grosso and I formed Baang and Burne we picked a group of artists that not only made work we loved, but who we already knew and trusted. The artists I brought on, I had met when I was an Artist-in-Residence at the Vermont Studio Center. I had worked with them day in and day out over the course of a month so I knew their work well and I knew they would be easy to work with personality wise. In the end, I chose people I already had great relationships with. In the end it always comes back to relationships!


To read more about 6x6, read Kesha’s weekly articles on art, art marketing, and creativity and to download a free copy of her guide “The 5 Step Art Career Make-Over” visit her blog at www.keshabrucestudio.com.

After days, months, years of trying...

...I am still trying to figure out what it means to live my life as an artist.

It has taken years to be able to define myself as such. When asked I used to always say I was an art student. Even when I wasn't, and I had students of my own. I never felt ready to tell others about my art; they found out about it by accident, when they saw me walking around with paint on my clothes and in my hair or even on my face, or when they saw me with a sketchbook in hand. Then, as now, my sketchbook is just as likely to have a random bit of writing or random doodles in it as it is to have anything potentially ready for display.

What does my life look like as an artist? How can I present myself as an artist to the world?

I wondered about the day to day, the moment to moment. How does the artist fill their hours and figure out where new works come from?

On Self-Portraits and "I Am"

A lot of what I create are self-portraits. I often use images of my face and body as metaphor, to tell a story of which I am only a small part. In the past, I've referred to myself simply as a vessel; I am to gather Story and bring it into the world.

Despite this, I have a hard time with the idea of my self-portrait. It feels a bit vain, a little self-indulgent to sit in front of a mirror (or looking at a photograph of myself) for the time it takes to draw or paint my own image, so that it is not just a reflection of what I see but an image that others would want to look at, not because it is me but because there is something there that makes them want to take a look at themselves.

A friend once told me that she sees a vulnerability to my work that mirrors that of my personality; maybe shying away from calling a work a self-portrait is another part of that?

"I Am"

11"x14"

acrylic on canvas

To the left of my face in "I Am" is an open, empty bird cage. Falling from it are rainbow colored feathers. I am what I am.

"Sheldon" on marketing and selling art

I think I am learning this the hard way.

"Sheldon" on overcoming artistic insecurities