Artist of the Week

Noelle Whitaker

February 4, 2025

Noelle Whitaker she/her (b.1998) is a Found Object Artist from Phoenix, Arizona. Whitaker received her BFA in Printmaking at Arizona State University in 2020 with a focus in stone lithography. Whitaker now lives and works in Seattle, Washington. Both an artist and a curator, Whitaker upholds a DIY ethos in chosen venues and commitment to elevating outsider artists of the Southwest and Northern Pacific. Whitaker maintains a constructivist approach to materials in her creative practice, rendering them uninterested in transforming an object from its original form. Instead, Whitaker prefers to employ objects and made images as conceptual tools, building relationships between objects, images, and text. This mixed media approach nurtures a "widely seen but rarely understood" exploration of material. Digital cues, boldface text, made images, found matter, and mirrors gain new meaning in Whitaker's world. Through printmaking and sculpture techniques, heartbreak, loss, value, flex and internet culture, decay, and outsider mentality are all explored through the meticulous combination of image and matrix. This exploration results in brute works that speak to their generation's experience in a world rapidly shifting. Whitaker debuted in 2024, holding two solo exhibitions, Pile Up at Georgetown Steamplant and Seen at Slip Gallery, Belltown. Currently, Whitaker is working towards a cross-cultural exchange in the form of a 12-man group show at Georgetown Steamplant February 2025 under the title Reins.

Are there any influences that are core to your work?
Bruce Conner, the state of Arizona & my iPhone.

Describe your current studio.
My current studio is an add-on off the side of our house, made of dark, porous planks of wood and tinted plastic siding. There are rolling barn doors on either side and a punching bag in the far left quadrant. It was once a letterpress studio, then a garage, then a woodshop, and now, our workspace. This is my first /real/ studio; when we first moved into the house, I found a ton of old lead type in the yard, a good omen. It changed everything for me, working here, having the freedom to load in large material, work messy, leave it, and come home to it. It’s allowed me to structure my life around my practice. Leaving this space will be the hardest thing to walk away from whenever the time comes.

Noelle Whitaker LVL3 2025

Do you have any rituals when you arrive at your studio?
I have routines for each session, notebook staged, music on, heaters running, bundled; and rituals when working through a body. When a body is in its baby stages, I spend a ton of time sorting through material, building connections between objects, and bridges to the concepts. Making piles, taking photos, staging things together- it’s invaluable to the process. I spend hours doing this and revisit it whenever I feel stuck. I like letting the materials talk to me – sometimes it feels like they shapeshift – I’ll see a previously collected object in a completely new light once the work starts to tell me what it needs. I’ll follow that as far as I can and then step back to look at the whole, repeat. I like to work in that space, where each action feels guided by the action that came before it.

Your work often incorporates found objects. When you are sourcing material for your work, is there something in particular that you’re drawn to? How do you bring individual components together to become a larger work?
I’m attracted to the character of a material. I find myself picking up a lot of wood trimmings, metals, hardware, things that have yellowed with age, and reflective surfaces. The fabrication processes employed vary from project to project, but generally, the tech is pretty simple. I don’t have a technical background in sculpture, so my joining is generally rudimentary. I rely on the materials “liking one another enough” to give much of my work structure. Cold connections, sneaky hardware, and various goops hold most of my work together.

Noelle Whitaker LVL3 2025
Defensive Driving for Water Signs | 2022-2024 | House paint, ink, mementos, upholstery tack, xerox, bumper sticker, aluminum image transfer on found wood in artist’s frame

When sourcing material for a new work, do you gather what you come across in your daily routine or do you set aside time to go searching in an unfamiliar area?
This is something that has evolved a ton in my practice. I’ve been collecting in my day today for as long as I can remember, so it’s become second nature to scan the ground and pass corners. There are certain areas that I’ll go to “hunt” if I’m running low on material or if I’m in a creative rut. I try not to buy things; my rule for a long time was only pigments and pastes, but sometimes I need a specific substrate or object that would be the perfect conceptual tool. In the last year, I’ve been giving myself a little grace with that, but everything must remain secondhand.

Your show, Pile Up, was held at the Georgetown Steamplant this past August. What was it like exhibiting in that space?
It was an honor to work in that space. My attraction to industry relics continues to make that space a dream to work in. As a historic site, there are limitations, but it spoke so well to work that I wouldn’t have done it any other way. Pile Up was all about the commonalities of romance and collision, the Crash kind of thing, but with more emphasis on fallout. The plant was initially constructed to power Seattle’s first trolley. I found that transportation tie interesting, considering the automotive industry and lack of need for steam eventually led to the plant being decommissioned.

Noelle Whitaker LVL3 2025
wreckage | 2023 | Reconstructed sculpture: bottle caps, automotive wreckage, reflector strips, bumper sticker, felt, xerox, in and on clock housing | 15 x 10 x 6.5 in

The show you’ve curated, Reins, is opening in Seattle on February 14th and will feature artists from Arizona and the Pacific Northwest. How did this show come to be?
After Pile Up, I knew I wanted to get a group show together in the Steamplant. While the space comes with limitations, those limitations create such unique hanging opportunities. There’s so much to try- it seems better suited to group exploration. Once I got talking to folks in my web, the southwest-northwest exchange came naturally. It’s my pipeline, and the more I spoke with each of the artists, the more I saw each region’s geography and social climate in the work. I think the artists will find themselves in a face-off but in a way that highlights the unique approaches to each of their materials. I’m thrilled to bring these two worlds together; something about it feels tingly like magic.

Noelle Whitaker LVL3 2025

What was your creative community like when you lived in Arizona, and how does it compare to the creative community you have now in Seattle?
My communities in the two cities are pretty different. I was way more involved in the music scene in Phoenix. It’s funny because I was going to art school out there, so you would think I would have a stronger visual arts community, but I was looking for a different outlet, and the scenes out there at the time were way more tapped into music than visual arts; so I made noise music and threw house shows; it was just kind of the thing to do. When I moved to Seattle, it was to focus more on the visual work, and to get serious. A lot of my community in Seattle is still based on music and nightlife, but it feels so different. Maybe because I’m a guest and not the host, I can focus on my work when not /in it/. Maybe the pace of the landscapes flavors the communities. It’s hard to say, but both are rich in what they offer.

Is there a uniting trait embodied by folks in your community that you’re especially appreciative of? Is there something you look for when fostering community?
Sincerity is essential to me. When I think about those I hold dearly, I’d say they are all very present and intentional with their time and language. There’s a tenderness there.  I’m attracted to those same points in work, too. Honest windows in, maybe. I love it when it feels like everyone really showed up.

Noelle Whitaker LVL3 2025
Finally Got My Screen Time Down | 2024 | Image transfer, filding, acrylic, resin, found object on wood | 45 x 28.5 in.

Your show Seen opened at Slip Gallery in November. What kind of conversation did you want that show to foster?
I was thinking a lot about the parasocial & “persona,” being both shrouded & inherently public. It got me thinking about what it means to challenge that. Would that be jarring honesty online? Can that be achieved retroactively by archiving and resequencing one’s digital history? The work in Seen is intended to serve as a proposal for a new digital social order. I employ myself as the test subject because I can access my own “truths” and materials, but the work was about pushing the idea of online authenticity. I often hear people pleading for a return to roots and social media as a tool for connection over commodification; what role are we all playing in that? What does it look like to be “Seen,” and is it possible to do so with intention?

How do you use social media?
I actually love social media. I understand its harms, the temptations to compare oneself, the risks we run sharing images of our works, etc. I’ve had to do a lot of trimming and reframing to get to this positive place, but I love feeling connected to people worldwide. It feels like everyone’s my friend, and they all live in my pocket, so I run the risk.

How do you manage tending to the variety of responsibilities in the work you do? How do you mitigate burnout or exhaustion?
I make a lot of lists and try to work when it’s time to work and play when it’s time to play.

Noelle Whitaker LVL3 2025
LMK | 2024 | Image transfer, enamel print, bumper sticker, Swarovski crystals, resin on plastic signage | 16 x 12 x 1 in.

What is one of the larger challenges you and/or other artists are struggling with these days and how do you see it developing?
I just think everyone’s broke. I don’t see this changing either, as bleak as that may seem. The idea of ever living off the work seems entirely abstract and intangible, but in some ways, that’s super freeing. It’s like… do the work because you have to do it, and if money flows, that’s great, but I’m personally no good as a commercial artist.

What is something you want to see more of in your world or in your community?
I think I’d like to see more people doing it themselves. We’ve touched on this a bit already, but there’s a lot of opportunity in nontraditional exhibition spaces. It’s easy to get hung up on white walls and gallery representation, but I will always love DIY. I’m too much of a control freak about the work to do it any other way, and it feels incredible to transform a space. I think everyone should try it.

Noelle Whitaker LVL3 2025
Perfect Day | 2024 | Image transfer, acrylic fluid, charcoal, resin, found wood, baseballs, wire, bolt, Three Shots of Cheap Tequila, borrowed box, single red brick | Dimensions variable

Interview conducted by Luca Lotruglio.