Tell us a little bit about yourself and what you do.

I was born and raised in New York. I make mixed media work. For the past couple of years, I have been depicting the female form in my art and have experimented with different ways of bringing it to life.

Who do you think is making important work right now?

My friends and the people I surround myself with are making the important work right now. Most of them aren’t showing in galleries. They work from their heart, and it really comes through in their art. I find most of the artwork being shown these days to be redundant —my eyes are too familiar with the pieces I’m seeing, as if one artist is making the same work every time. That’s not to say I don’t see great work here and there, but generally speaking…

I have four dear friends I’ve stayed close with since graduating college, and they’re all making incredible work that inspires me every day. I love who I love, and they know who they are.

How were you introduced to the mediums that you work with?

I attended the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, which was connected to the Art Institute Museum. I spent a substantial amount of time there, even if it meant walking through the museum to avoid the cold. I can’t remember the specific painting class, but I walked on the 3rd floor contemporary wing and saw a piece by Suzanne Jackson. Seeing her work completely changed the trajectory of my practice. At that point in my life, I had just realized that working within the confines of a rectangle was distressing and took the fun out of creating. I was putting too much pressure on myself. So, I began cutting up old paintings—typically those on wood panels—and piecing them together. It was not only exciting but also relieved the internal pressure of working within a fixed shape. I am my harshest critic, and as trite as that may sound, it’s true. Frankly, the wood was becoming far too cumbersome; it was hurting my body and back. I began creating acrylic sheets, reminiscent of fruit roll-ups, using cheap acrylic glue and paint. From then on, the medium stuck with me. It allowed me the flexibility to collage and play around with light, shadow, and form in a way that wood panel did not.

Does storytelling and worldbuilding play a part?

The girls create a story for themselves. I don’t make work with a narrative in mind. The way they interact with the walls around them or the floor forms their own world within their physical context. I do sometimes have them interacting—holding hands or being close in proximity. I want the viewer to connect to them without me telling them how. What fun would it be if I prescribed a story for the viewer before they even saw the work? I essentially know as much as the viewer.

What was the last show you saw that stuck out to you?

The Ellen Birkenblit show at the Anton Kern Gallery uptown was excellent. I was specifically drawn to her prints – recently I’ve been a sucker for contrast and craftsmanship, and I strive to bring those qualities into my own work. Also, the consistency of girls being the subject matter is something I can obviously relate to. I would also like to mention another show that stood out to me. I drove up to Montreal in 2023 and, coincidentally, had just come across Marisol’s work. There happened to be a retrospective of hers that was, to this day, the best I’ve seen in my life.

Do you have any rituals when entering the studio?

Right when I get to the studio, I start with painting little pieces on crappy paper — without judgment and fast-paced. This is to put aside any self-doubt and criticism and reset myself into a positive and focused headspace.

What influences do you think play an essential role in your work?

I have phases where I source imagery from old Du magazines that my grandparents collected for many years. Looking at other artists’ work is also something that influences my work. Exposing myself to different ways artists create helps me execute my own ideas in different ways. I am also influenced by my friends to draw and paint. I try and photograph them as much as possible and make sure to print out the images I take – looking at the screen makes so much potential distraction. I have photographs lying around on my apartment table or scattered in the studio, and from the corner of my eye, they seep into my psyche. I see my friends emerge in my art, which always gives me great pleasure.  

How do you think about your 2-dimensional bodies interacting with spaces

I’ve had my girls hanging up in my apartment for a little over a year now and I’m still trying to figure it out. Couldn’t really tell you.

What is something that you’ve always wanted to do and are working towards achieving?

I’m not responding to this one. It’s a secret.

Can you tell us a memory of someone interacting with your work that frequently crosses your mind?

I am and was a neurotic student, especially when it came to painting on canvas. In my first painting course at SAIC, my professor at the time, George Leibert, reminded me that I am allowed to make paintings that I don’t like. Here’s the story: I was fixating on one painting for months. I worked on it every day and night between and after class for hours and hours. Now that I think about that time, I miss it like crazy. When you’re eighteen years old, everything is drama because you don’t know anything about anything. I called George over and he stopped and looked at me having a curfuffle over the painting. He moved my easel about a foot and a half to the left and brought over another easel to take its place. He said to make a canvas the same size and paint the same painting that I’m working on. But this time without as much agitation involved. I did exactly that. That moment always stuck with me, and to this day, I remind myself that not every painting has to be a masterpiece. It brings the big floating ego back to reality when it needs to.

Interview conducted and edited by Liam Owings