New Beginnings, 60x60, Mixed Media on Pine Panel, 2018
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2018
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InterviewSarah Elizebeth Leonard
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On October 16, 2018 Curator Sarah Leonard sits down with artist Jeanette Luchese to discuss The Focus and the Fray. Luchese's latest artistic undertaking, this prolific series of 5'x5' and 3'x3' mixed media works began in early March 2017. Philosophical, conceptual and reflective - Luchese shares the things that inspire, the moments that impact, and the driving force behind her unique and deeply personal modus operandi.
Transcribed and Edited by Cory van der Vliet, November 2018 |
SL: When it comes to a new project, before the first mark is made, what is the initial thought process?
JL: Thinking back, to making this body of work, I suppose it comes down to the desire to make something.
Sometimes inspiration is found walking through Curry’s (artist supply) or looking at the paint that I have in the studio. I decide I want to do something in pastels or there’s something else I may have, and I think “That may be fun to play with!”. Sometimes it’s a matter of wondering, “What happens if I put these two things together?”. With this grouping of work, my favourite part of the process has been preparing the boards. I find it very meditative. And, it sounds crazy, but I ‘hug’ the boards. What I’m doing is holding them. Feeling the space and finding my position in space with them. Like a dancer walking the stage. When I’m working, a lot of what I’m doing is very automatic, so this approach allows my body to already have some sort of sense of space. A sense of what I’m going to be working on and in.
SL: When selecting the materials for a new piece, what directs you? What draws you to certain materials?
JL: With this exhibition, it became very apparent to me early on that I wanted to be drawing, and I knew I wanted to work in a large scale. When I thought about the material I had in the studio, I gravitated towards graphite, and then the silver point. With this body of work, it was ‘Go Big or Go Home’. In using multiple, large scale pine panels, I found I was able to explore a representation of snippets of time. I was referencing the moments. Inspired in flashes, it’s often instinctual and unplanned. I know it sounds a little bizarre, but I find the work to be more rewarding this way. It’s truly the practice I want to have - derived of creating with an automatic and honest approach. Having the board the size of my body, set me up to reflect on the panels as a tableau - Individual moments of my being.
SL: Speaking of “moments of being” - You studied and trained as a graphic designer for many years. How does this part of your personal history effect your current art practice? What elements remain, and which have you rejected altogether?
JL: I think my work is representational. Probably most art is representational of the artist and what they see – even though I believe we are more than just what we see. The reality is, I started with visual arts. I went to an arts and theatre high school and I was slated to go to OCA,. At that time my Dad was sick, having an old world Italian upbringing, painting didn't make sense so when he died and funds were limited, I went to Sheridan and had a very difficult time. I didn’t feel like I belonged, I bounced around, in hindsight it might of worked in my favour, I took illustration, graphic story art, and graphics, I made it through but it was a bumpy road. Through the entirety of my graphic design career it was the visual art aspects that allowed me to persevere. What I took away from it was an intuitiveness of colour balance and of communication. To be a good graphic designer, you must be a good communicator. The objective of promotional material is to move the viewer’s eye around a page, to subliminally give them ideas and influences based on the imagery. So, when I returned to school for fine art, I became very conscious of my ability to manipulate things visually. I decided to create work that didn’t have any references within it. After years working in graphic design and creating specifically in and for someone else’s voice, it became a goal to create work without any frame of reference. I wanted to see what could become or be. In keeping the work spontaneous and free, I began searching for my voice.
SL: Your work is rich with a push and pull of washes and marks. How would you explain your mark making process? What steers you and/or directs you to the next mark made?
JL: What steers me is the desire for the mark to be made. The honesty of the mark is important to me. I am driven by a process where no preconceived notions or ideas exist – a place where I can honestly allow whatever mark marking that happens, to happen. It’s like a meandering. One mark leads to another mark, to another. And those marks lead to a series of marks that lead to a brush that leads to scrapping away material and so on. It’s like life. You wake up in the morning and you have your routine. If you’ve moved through a sequence enough times, it all becomes very automatic. When I’m creating, I’m only concerned with an honest experience. I’d rather risk making something totally terrible than for it to be emotionally contrived. Depending on my frame of mind or where I am, those things will impact. The honest mark always comes through, but what comes through is only ever dictated at that precise moment of creation.
SL: Many of the works within this series have been marked using silver point. Tell me about the appeal and how you came to use this unconventional medium.
JL: A few years ago, I became very ill. It was an interesting time, because I had to face a lot of things. It was a starting over, it was an overcoming, coming full circle. I was asked to contribute to a show called The Healing Arts and I saw it as a wonderful opportunity to move forward. At this time, I had heard a podcast about silver point ground, speaking of how it was the initial mark making tool during the renaissance, pre-dating graphite. So, I thought “Wow, that’s a pretty cool starting point!”. With further research about the medium, I learn that as a metal, silver point tarnishes over time. It is constantly in flux. It is, in a sense, alive - much like an oil painting that never dries. I also loved the idea that I was starting from scratch, using a medium that many artists once used as their starting point, during a major turning point in history. Then I had a wonderful revelation one day. I was using water on a piece with silver point on it, and when the two met each other, all the lead in the work lifted and shifted. And I thought “Aha!” What other medium reacts like that? Stays intact, but recreates its own mark? Much like, me, I staying in tact and recreating my heal — so, that intrigued me and reaffirmed that I should be using it. There’s a lot of interesting things I could connect to silver point as a medium, in terms of my healing journey, and in terms of alchemy and mark making. And so, in that, the honesty of the created marks then meant more to me. There’s an evolution to the medium, knowing things will lift and tarnish and react over time. Much like a conversation or life, it grows and expands. And It’s important to me that my work and the process of creating is not stagnant. Even if it’s fractional or takes years for parts to be seen. To me, that’s the fun part!
SL: Which brings me to my last question. How do you know when a piece is finished?
JL: It just is. Serendipitously. Marks and dots that are random will eventually find rhythm and order themselves. And I know a piece has arrived at its place when I am not able to make another mark on it. I have had experiences where I approach a work with a pencil and it feels like a force field. I go towards it and I get a “No!”. And so, I listen to that tension. Even if the work seems sparse to me, I sign the work and leave it. It is what it is meant to be.
“The Focus and The Fray” opens at the Georgian College Campus Gallery, November 15th, and runs until December 9th
JL: Thinking back, to making this body of work, I suppose it comes down to the desire to make something.
Sometimes inspiration is found walking through Curry’s (artist supply) or looking at the paint that I have in the studio. I decide I want to do something in pastels or there’s something else I may have, and I think “That may be fun to play with!”. Sometimes it’s a matter of wondering, “What happens if I put these two things together?”. With this grouping of work, my favourite part of the process has been preparing the boards. I find it very meditative. And, it sounds crazy, but I ‘hug’ the boards. What I’m doing is holding them. Feeling the space and finding my position in space with them. Like a dancer walking the stage. When I’m working, a lot of what I’m doing is very automatic, so this approach allows my body to already have some sort of sense of space. A sense of what I’m going to be working on and in.
SL: When selecting the materials for a new piece, what directs you? What draws you to certain materials?
JL: With this exhibition, it became very apparent to me early on that I wanted to be drawing, and I knew I wanted to work in a large scale. When I thought about the material I had in the studio, I gravitated towards graphite, and then the silver point. With this body of work, it was ‘Go Big or Go Home’. In using multiple, large scale pine panels, I found I was able to explore a representation of snippets of time. I was referencing the moments. Inspired in flashes, it’s often instinctual and unplanned. I know it sounds a little bizarre, but I find the work to be more rewarding this way. It’s truly the practice I want to have - derived of creating with an automatic and honest approach. Having the board the size of my body, set me up to reflect on the panels as a tableau - Individual moments of my being.
SL: Speaking of “moments of being” - You studied and trained as a graphic designer for many years. How does this part of your personal history effect your current art practice? What elements remain, and which have you rejected altogether?
JL: I think my work is representational. Probably most art is representational of the artist and what they see – even though I believe we are more than just what we see. The reality is, I started with visual arts. I went to an arts and theatre high school and I was slated to go to OCA,. At that time my Dad was sick, having an old world Italian upbringing, painting didn't make sense so when he died and funds were limited, I went to Sheridan and had a very difficult time. I didn’t feel like I belonged, I bounced around, in hindsight it might of worked in my favour, I took illustration, graphic story art, and graphics, I made it through but it was a bumpy road. Through the entirety of my graphic design career it was the visual art aspects that allowed me to persevere. What I took away from it was an intuitiveness of colour balance and of communication. To be a good graphic designer, you must be a good communicator. The objective of promotional material is to move the viewer’s eye around a page, to subliminally give them ideas and influences based on the imagery. So, when I returned to school for fine art, I became very conscious of my ability to manipulate things visually. I decided to create work that didn’t have any references within it. After years working in graphic design and creating specifically in and for someone else’s voice, it became a goal to create work without any frame of reference. I wanted to see what could become or be. In keeping the work spontaneous and free, I began searching for my voice.
SL: Your work is rich with a push and pull of washes and marks. How would you explain your mark making process? What steers you and/or directs you to the next mark made?
JL: What steers me is the desire for the mark to be made. The honesty of the mark is important to me. I am driven by a process where no preconceived notions or ideas exist – a place where I can honestly allow whatever mark marking that happens, to happen. It’s like a meandering. One mark leads to another mark, to another. And those marks lead to a series of marks that lead to a brush that leads to scrapping away material and so on. It’s like life. You wake up in the morning and you have your routine. If you’ve moved through a sequence enough times, it all becomes very automatic. When I’m creating, I’m only concerned with an honest experience. I’d rather risk making something totally terrible than for it to be emotionally contrived. Depending on my frame of mind or where I am, those things will impact. The honest mark always comes through, but what comes through is only ever dictated at that precise moment of creation.
SL: Many of the works within this series have been marked using silver point. Tell me about the appeal and how you came to use this unconventional medium.
JL: A few years ago, I became very ill. It was an interesting time, because I had to face a lot of things. It was a starting over, it was an overcoming, coming full circle. I was asked to contribute to a show called The Healing Arts and I saw it as a wonderful opportunity to move forward. At this time, I had heard a podcast about silver point ground, speaking of how it was the initial mark making tool during the renaissance, pre-dating graphite. So, I thought “Wow, that’s a pretty cool starting point!”. With further research about the medium, I learn that as a metal, silver point tarnishes over time. It is constantly in flux. It is, in a sense, alive - much like an oil painting that never dries. I also loved the idea that I was starting from scratch, using a medium that many artists once used as their starting point, during a major turning point in history. Then I had a wonderful revelation one day. I was using water on a piece with silver point on it, and when the two met each other, all the lead in the work lifted and shifted. And I thought “Aha!” What other medium reacts like that? Stays intact, but recreates its own mark? Much like, me, I staying in tact and recreating my heal — so, that intrigued me and reaffirmed that I should be using it. There’s a lot of interesting things I could connect to silver point as a medium, in terms of my healing journey, and in terms of alchemy and mark making. And so, in that, the honesty of the created marks then meant more to me. There’s an evolution to the medium, knowing things will lift and tarnish and react over time. Much like a conversation or life, it grows and expands. And It’s important to me that my work and the process of creating is not stagnant. Even if it’s fractional or takes years for parts to be seen. To me, that’s the fun part!
SL: Which brings me to my last question. How do you know when a piece is finished?
JL: It just is. Serendipitously. Marks and dots that are random will eventually find rhythm and order themselves. And I know a piece has arrived at its place when I am not able to make another mark on it. I have had experiences where I approach a work with a pencil and it feels like a force field. I go towards it and I get a “No!”. And so, I listen to that tension. Even if the work seems sparse to me, I sign the work and leave it. It is what it is meant to be.
“The Focus and The Fray” opens at the Georgian College Campus Gallery, November 15th, and runs until December 9th