Distinct Chatter from April 8 to May 20, 2022 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Hannah Zozobrado
Along one of the walls of the gallery hangs a black-and-white striped shirt, cut into curved strips that defy the thin, horizontal stripes. The slits on the left and right side of the tee curve symmetrically in opposite directions. The work is Charlotte Richardson-Deppe’s Just a Shirt (2021), which also has multiple colored pins poking into each strip of material, sticking out of the shirt and giving the piece overall dimension. For Richardson-Deppe, the chopped piece of clothing is a reminder of a bitter story.
The story that accompanies Just a Shirt is as follows:
It is the spring of Richardson-Deppe’s senior year of college, and she and her friends are spending a night in a Chicago hotel. They encounter a middle-aged man in the elevator, and he strikes casual conversation with them. They all arrive at their hotel room soon after; the hotel room’s phone begins to ring and Richardson-Deppe’s friend answers the phone – the caller is the man from the elevator, asking if the girl in the black and white shirt is in the room. Richardson-Deppe is the girl in the black and white striped shirt.
The friend lies and hangs up the phone. They are all scared, and they call their male friend – “tall and strong” – to request their room change at the front desk. They finally change their room, but the fear and paranoia does not depart as they ensure that the doors are locked.
While the title is Just a Shirt, the material is more than that to Richardson-Deppe. It is, in fact, just a shirt in its appearance, but this shirt is a reminder of a chilling dilemma that she had to experience as a woman and had to resolve with the help of a man. It is a reminder of the feeling of hopelessness that comes with knowing you are being surveilled by an unknown man with unknown intentions – something that many women experience in a patriarchal society.
Charlotte Richardson-Deppe, Just a Shirt, 2021. Shirt, pins, 16” x 18”.
The cuts that curve outward from the shirt’s middle center look as though they take the form of the female reproductive system. This piece is representative of what it means to be a woman in a society where men can be either predatory or heroic – and either way, the woman is to succumb and yield to man, whether that be as their prey or damsel in distress.
The shirt is formed by these symmetric slits in the material, and the rightward and leftward curve of these cuts on the shirt cause a split in the overall work. With this, the tee represents womanhood while also drawing a literal and metaphorical line between the experiences of women and men.
The pins on this work, which are typically used to help in mending rips and tears at cloth, only jab into the material with an ostensible purpose of pinning the strips to the wall. The pins also make the shirt feel unmoving; this is to say that the sentiment of reinforcing society’s rigid social and patriarchal structures are to remain unchanged, or at least difficult to change.
Just a Shirt shows that objects, contrary to their simple appearances, can often take up the space beyond their physical composition. They encompass the memories that evoke strong emotions, like disgust and fear, while also becoming a symbol and motif of lived experiences; this piece, in the context of what had happened as the shirt was worn, is critical commentary on what it is like to be a woman: having to keep an eye out for our well-being and, like Richardson-Deppe, even sleep with one eye open.
Just a Shirt tells a story that many women are able to relate to – no matter the shirt they choose to wear.
Charlotte Richardson-Deppe’s work is included in Distinct Chatter at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from April 18 – May 20, 2022.
For more information on Charlotte Richardson-Deppe, visit the University of Maryland’s Department of Art.
For more information on Distinct Chatter and related events, visit the Stamp Website.
Distinct Chatter from April 18 to May 20, 2022 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Isabella Chilcoat
You’d be surprised by how many people have asked me who Hosna Shahramipoor’s model is for her photographs in the gallery and are shocked to learn that they are self portraits.
To me, their confusion speaks volumes about how necessary her portraits are.
Hosna Shahramipoor, Video Arts, 2022, digital media 0:30s.
A second year MFA candidate in the University of Maryland Department of Studio Art, Shahramipoor already holds BA and MFA degrees both from University of Art, Tehran, and she has been photographing professionally since the early 2000s. Now her recent collection of self portraits occupies the walls in our Stamp Gallery as she wraps up this year’s MFA portfolio. Following a trend of distortion, marring, and fracturing, each portrait exhibits some degree of manipulation to the face or the throat applied directly to the surface of the image with various materials. Shahramipoor employs herself as the subject of each photograph, challenging viewers to look beyond implicit biases that often accompany first impressions – @ my confused gallery attendees – about race and identity based on her appearance. She, as an Iranian woman, is inevitably a member of an often harmfully miscategorized community of people who do not always appear the way others expect, especially in the U.S. Her physical appearance contradicts the Western stereotype that prescribes dark hair, eyes, warm, tanned skin, and a hijab as the standard for Middle Eastern women.
She, distinctly, is not white, as portrait I Am Not White (2022) aptly asserts through a glossy archival paper printed photograph with pins filling the box letter shapes of this phrase over her distant countenance. Furthermore, the gaze of the subject peers straight through the viewer with a mix of severity, solemnity, and exasperation that harmonizes with the portrait’s color palate of rosy browns and taupes. Hung at just the right height, Shahramipoor’s gaze pierces at eye level to reiterate “I AM NOT WHITE,” undoubtedly a worn-out phrase, spoken so often that each utterance, every situation urging that clarification, conversely pierces into the skin like a sharp needle. This piece is not the only portrait intoning a theme of false assumptions, but it is perhaps the most obvious rendering of the concept.
Hosna Shahramipoor, I Am Not White, 2022, glossy archival print on paper.
Video Arts (2022), by Shahramipoor, on view in the second half of the gallery, may easily read as a feeling of fractured identity or wounding. The thirty-second clip features a still portrait of the artist that is progressively obscured by jagged, triangular incisions that resemble pieces of a broken mirror. Starting in a haloing progression around her face, the incisions continue and grow longer as they slice into her seated body covering her entire being until they disappear and the video loops to the beginning. The artist’s act of visceral mutilation through delicate, meticulous execution creates portraits that are nothing short of poetic.
Shahramipoor’s focus on self portraiture and the cool intensity of her stare speak to the viewer beyond archival paper and a projected screen as if saying “face me.” I urge anyone to visit the gallery to witness these portraits in person and to confront their own internalized biases.
Hosna Shahramipoor’s work is included in Distinct Chatter at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from April 18 – May 20, 2022.
For more information on Hosna Shahramipoor, visit the University of Maryland’s Department of Art.
For more information on Distinct Chatter and related events, visit the Stamp Website.
alternate universe: visualizing queer futurisms from February 10 to April 6, 2022 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Hannah Zozobrado
Art is often a reflection of the various facets of life; Camila Tapia-Guilliams’ All On Borrowed Time reminds us of our mortality, and how with our mortality comes the multiple problems that fail to be addressed in a lifetime – our current world of climate crises, the COVID-19 pandemic, and the negligence of world leaders that will lead to an inevitable struggle of future generations.
All On Borrowed Time, an acrylic and ink work, reflects the inevitability of death. The piece comprises dark colors – which reflect an imminent end of time and deliver a sense of urgency – against a contrasting backdrop of brighter-colored lines. Certain motifs drawn from nature such as clouds and what looks to be mountain ranges are also coupled with parts of the body: a heart, a hand, and an eye. These all go to show that our consciousness in our physical being is only temporary when compared to the persisting life in the nature that surrounds us.
Prior to seeing this piece, I had thought a lot about this topic of limited time and the inevitable end of our consciousness. When I first came across this work and read its label, I strongly felt Tapia-Guilliams’ sense of urgency on a personal level. It reminded me of a poem called I had written earlier in the year, when I had been feeling the heavy weight of time:
time is never measured
by the hour
for birds with instinct and light for clocks —
their only timeline
a horizon of a
setting / rising sun
[ it had been when their feathers
flew like fleeting seconds,
when suddenly birds
feared less the scale of time
than those of snakes ]
but even free spirits
paid the price of being prey
to the analog,
ticking to the 12
that split days into two
ha / ves of a whole
[ to the 12 —
a noon, a midnight, a dozen,
apostles, and law enforcement;
time ticked, and ticked off the 12
jurying life and what came next ]
- Hannah Zozobrado
less timeless
This notion of limited time – while quite invasive due to its sporadic and unwelcomed entrance in the mind – is nonetheless important to think about when deciding what long-lasting mark we want to leave on this earth, whether that be through preventing climate crises or stopping the spread of COVID-19 through individual action. Tapia-Guilliams’ ability to address us as mortal beings with a purpose despite our finite time on earth makes All On Borrowed Time especially resonant.
alternate universe: visualizing queer futurisms from February 10 to April 6, 2022 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Fiona Yang
Camila Tapia-Guilliams’ Blue Bodied and Self-Sentry are meant to be viewed in conversation. Both are acrylic on paper, and short, bright blue organic forms wriggle their way across both pieces. Tapia-Guilliams invites you to compare the differences between the two: the differing color schemes, the use of negative space, the sparse representational forms. Then, the pieces guide you towards their accompanying artist statements—two short poems, also titled Blue Bodied and Self-Sentry respectively.
Blue Bodied by Camila Tapia-Guilliams
Poetry in accompaniment to art can serve to both contextualize and further complicate. Wall text is meant to clarify the meaning of a piece; when confronted with poetry instead, the viewer is forced to analyze two works of art at once. The average viewer likely has little experience in analyzing either. In a way, this works to the artist’s advantage. An artist statement can deflate a piece, a paltry translation of a visual work into flat, accessible terms. Matisse, despite his own eloquence, famously declared that “a painter ought to have his tongue cut out.” One solution to this frequent artist’s dilemma? A rejection of the institutionalized, formulaic artist statement. Jennifer Liese, in N+1 magazine, writes, “For everyone’s sake—artists and the people and institutions working to support them—it would be better to welcome sense and nonsense, coherence and paradox, philosophy, poetry, and maybe even a little more than a page, all of which might truly represent, rather than reduce, artists and their art.”
With Blue Bodied and Self-Sentry, we see Liese’s proclamation in action. The two poems are meditations on looking, being looked upon and loved. Neither poem attempts to reduce their respective works to thematic elements or try to explain its brushwork. Instead, the poems reference principles that underlie all of Tapia-Guilliams’s work: community-centered care, collaborative worldbuilding, solidarity and love. In Blue Bodied, Tapia-Guilliams writes, “Maybe then when we hold each other again / We won’t fall apart / We can build ourselves up / And start fresh”; in Self-Sentry, they write, “The low view has its beauty in the weeds.”
Self-Sentry by Camila Tapia-Guilliams
In other artist statements, Tapia-Guilliams explicitly references works by queer theorists and scholars. In the description of What is Theirs is Mine, they direct viewers to the writing of nonbinary artist and writer Alok V. Menon. In true collaborative fashion, Tapia-Guilliams is aware that their words alone won’t be enough to explain the history, theory, and insight behind their work. Instead, they invoke the support of the queer intellectual and artistic community that inspired it in the first place.
Poetry and theory: rather than flattening the work, Tapia-Guilliams enriches it. The result is a collection of pieces that mutually support and reinforce each other. Tapia-Guilliams is fiercely committed to solidarity and care, and that ideological conviction shines through in the show.
Camila Tapia-Guilliams’s work is included in alternate universe: visualizing queer futurisms at the Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from February 10, 2022 to April 6, 2022.
alternate universes: visualizing queer futurisms from February 10 to April 6, 2022 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Isabella M. Chilcoat
“Curves are natural, neutral in nature the same way they are on the body,”
according to one captivated and insightful gallery visitor speaking on Camila Tapia-Guilliams’s panel painting, The Muses.
Last Tuesday, I led a tour through the Stamp Gallery’s exhibition alternate universe: visualizing queer futurisms, which will be on view until April 6. I relate to the viewer’s fascination as I ponder the sloping red outlines of nude human forms that sweep in circular progression over the organic grain of an untreated wood board. The repeated subject exists in absolute harmony with the medium as complimentary topographic strokes in cobalt, evergreen, and burnt umber caress the two natural entities — the painted and the painted-on. Initially created as a segment for their final portfolio before earning a degree in studio art from the University of Maryland, Guilliams describes The Muses as a manifestation of their own identity exploration as a non-binary person. The Muses considers the history of the exploitation of women for the inspiration and progression of male success, the objectification of the female-presenting nude, and the male gaze in works of art and other representations of women. All of the abuses of both form and person perpetuate an inhospitable climate in art spaces around the globe toward any person or persons presenting visible signs of difference from the longstanding status quo centering predominantly white cis-gendered men’s work. Tying seamlessly into some of the exhibition’s main points of discourse, The Muses points to this ostracization as it extends beyond the gallery walls, festering in the woven fibers of society.
Detail, The Muses
The panel’s dimensions of 24 x 48” translates roughly to a sideways movie poster. To behold this work in person, however, will initiate a deeper, tumultuous effect on the senses — the eye devours the information on the wall while plunged into summits then chasms of visual form and carried into an awareness of the self, the artist’s humble request for empathy. Studying the faces reveals subtle expressions that only suggest which emotions could fill the empty spaces between the red outlines constituting their bodies. Human curves echo natural wood grain as if to parallel the carbon impermanence of them both.
Finally, when the eye latches onto the last red of the right-most body that bends its head at an acute degree toward the left, the passageways of line carry the viewer back to the beginning to repeat the infinite process of discovery. To intone the conversation with my tour member once again, I consider how the world (or the universe) would look in the absence of bodily objectification, of gendered conventions sustained at the detriment of equity. What iterations of the future can exist from these histories?
Camila Tapia-Guilliams’s work is included in alternate universe: visualizing queer futurisms at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from February 10 – April 6, 2022.
Camila Tapia Guilliams will be joining two other artists in the Art of Community Care: Collaging Collective Action hybrid event in StudioA and zoom on March 16, 2022 at 6:00PM.
Yams, tomatoes, Potatoes & Plums from October 25, 2021 to December 11, 2021 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Isabella Chilcoat
While the Yams, Tomatoes, Potatoes, & Plums exhibition in the STAMP Gallery is visually exquisite and captivating, we ought to understand why and how this “genre” arose and the deeper effects of colonization and appropriation. The long history of Australia finds frequent neglect in the American education system, limiting our public’s broader acumen of Australian culture generally, but especially of the communities native to the territory. Because of such limited familiarity, it is easy for our American brains to consume the current works on display only for their “pretty colors” while forgoing a comprehensive appreciation for the artists or the sordid history they endured all to eventually gain notoriety in the mainstream art scene. I should adjust — a mainstream art scene that has traditionally rejected or degraded not just female artists and artists of color, but has also abused indigenous artists by appropriating their culture or denying the artists the credit they are due based on a lack of “formal training” or societal ignorance. It is, therefore, critical that we, as the public encountering Indigenous Australian art, inform ourselves and learn how to interpret works outside of our conventional artistic canon.
Bessie Petyarre, Bush Plum, 2021, Acrylic. 123 x 115 cm. | Naata Nungurrayi, Marrapinti, 2001, Acrylic. 46 x 91 cm
The most helpful place to start is researching directly from the source. Our exhibit features an informative primary source video interview in the first gallery niche on our right side wall with one of the artists, Esther Bruno Nangala. She explains her work, Bush Tomato, its symbols, and, briefly, customs of harvesting and processing of bush tomatoes in her community. She details the importance of the harvest for women with their parts in planting, collecting, and then processing the tomato by grinding it into a paste and rolling the paste into balls for children to eat. Here, we can gather an easily accessible contextual basis for at least one painting in the collection.
Observer, viewing Esther Bruno Nangala’s interview featured in the STAMP Gallery
Moving into some of the broader history of Australian history of Indigenous peoples and Western colonization of the land, the beginnings of colonial activity arose in the late 16th Century. On January 26, 1788 British Captain, Arthur Phillip, landed in Australia simultaneously marking the land’s first foreign settlement and the commencement of an enduring brutal campaign over indigenous peoples and their land for Britain’s territorial growth. The years to follow obliterated native populations through the devastation and dispossession of lands, introduction of diseases, and direct violence. Today only 3.3% of Indigenous people remain in the Australian population.
Some of the greatest problems arise in describing Indigenous artworks when art critics, collectors, curators, and large museums neglect the historical context and fail to attribute the same credit to Indigenous and self-taught artists as “classically trained” Western artists. Certain terminology repeatedly arises in the Western media that degrades the credibility of othered artists (“other “ being non-white, non-Western) — negatively connotated descriptors include words like “untrained,” “primitive,” “tribal,” “primal,” “untainted,” or “pure,” etc. Such a phenomenon arises when people hold the context of the works over the physical form. For instance, when looking at a piece by Leonardo daVinci, arguably the most famous name in Western “classical” art, most people of the general public understand him as a “master” and, accordingly, ascribe importance to his works based on his known history alone – just from seeing his name with a painting. This is not to say that da Vinci’s works are not technically impressive, but there is an automatic, or implicit, bias connected with how much the general public already understands about him.
it is pivotal that we can appreciate their context while analyzing the formal elements by their own merit.
So, when we look at the acrylic paintings on display in the Yams, Tomatoes, Potatoes & Plums exhibit, it is pivotal that we can appreciate their context while analyzing the formal elements by their own merit. Furthermore, the approach to examining the form of an Indigenous artwork or one by a self taught artist – without implicit bias – is to completely abandon anything we know contextually and to compare on the same pedestal the work to any other similar pieces that it inspires. Here, we ensure that the artist receives all the credit she deserves, fairly. That is not to contradict the first half of this essay by any means, though. We need to employ the context to understand or empathize with the work’s meaning, but not when analyzing formal elements against a different work or while forming an initial impression.
Naata Nungurrayi, Bessie Petyarre, and Esther Bruno Nangala’s work is included in Yams, Tomatoes, Potatoes, & Plums at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from October 25, 2021 to December 11, 2021.
For more information on Yams, Tomatoes, Potatoes & Plums and related events, visit The STAMP Gallery.
New Arrivals 2021 from August 30 to October 16, 2021 at the STAMP Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | written by Isabella Chilcoat
Faith Couch, a young and electrifying contemporary photographer, breaks through walls of race, gender, sexuality, and nationality through her pure, intimate, and unapologetic images. Graduating from Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA) in 2019, Couch has already exhibited across the globe in the African American Museum in Philadelphia, Nasher Museum of Art at Duke University, Queen’s University Belfast, Arles Les Rencontres de la Photographie, and International Center of Photography to name a few, and has earned a spot on the Forbes 30 under 30 for Art and Style. She currently works out of Baltimore, MD and continues to gain notoriety throughout the world for her sensitive and provocative photographs.
Remarkably, two of her works, selected by University of Maryland’s CAPP committee for the University’s permanent collection, currently hang in the STAMP Gallery inspiring feelings of reverence, awe, and intrigue. Fitting seamlessly into this year’s CAPP committee’s mission, the members note that both selected works inspire internal and interpersonal discussion into the complexities and dynamisms of the Black experience.
“The intangible aspect of Memory is concretized in a visceral sense via the body but is triggered by an object, image, sound, or gesture”
Couch, Faith. “Then I Remembered the Most Radical Thing Black People Can Do – Continue to Love Each Other.” Faith Couch, 2020, https://www.faithcouch.com/black-love-is-political#1. Accessed 17 September 2021.
One of her pieces adorning the walls in the STAMP Gallery exhibit is Then I Remembered the Most Radical Thing Black People Can Do – Continue to Love Each Other, 2021, Archival Inkjet Print, 24” x 36” that has sparked incredible conversation within the gallery in only its first month on display. The luminous photo print describes a scene of Faith, herself, and her partner nude in a vast grass field as they rest intertwined with loving gazes over each other’s bodies as if to absorb every moment in the presence of the person they love. The composition betrays the immaculate skill of the artist and tantalizes the eye of the viewer with its soft diagonals of limbs and torsos, while employing a fascinating one point perspective from the impressions of cut grass opening toward the couple who reclines in the central foreground and basks in golden sunlight.
Delving more deeply into Couch’s exquisite technique, the image contains shadows on the bottom corners taking the form of a subtle vignette, and, as the viewer draws nearer the picture, they become a part of the vignette that distances them from the scene. Here, the artist establishes privacy and safe distance for her figures so that they remain undisturbed, but, equally, to enforce that the viewers may only experience this moment vicariously by removing room to objectify her subject’s bodies. The serenity and intimacy is preserved forever.
Couch has commented “The intangible aspect of Memory is concretized in a visceral sense via the body but is triggered by an object, image, sound, or gesture.” Then I Remembered the Most Radical Thing Black People Can Do – Continue to Love Each Other captures the history and folklore, indispensable to Black culture and invokes the internal landscape of both dark and joyous memories through the image of Black people expressing tenderness, love, and intimacy. She composed a highly personal image that speaks especially to members of the diaspora to establish connectivity and community in shared happiness and pain. Ultimately, via Then I Remembered the Most Radical Thing Black People Can Do – Continue to Love Each Other, Faith Couch asserts that the greatest statement against injustice and disharmony is love.
P.S. I HIGHLY encourage you to check out all of Faith Couch’s works on display in person for the full viewing experience (socially distant of course) as well as her instagram for exclusive content and even more shots of her work and artistic process
Faith Couch’s work is included in New Arrivals 2021 at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from August 30 – October 16, 2021. Couch will be joining the other artists of New Arrivals 2021 in an artist talk in the Gallery in October 2021.
This is the sixth installment of the VOX LACUNAE artist interview series. VOX LACUNAE features work by Sobia Ahmad, Sera Boeno, Marta Gutierrez, Nilou Kazemzadeh, Jason Kuo, Kim Llerna, and Yuli Wang.
Marta Gutierrez | Multimedia artist | Exhibiting in VOX LACUNAE from July 18 to August 22, 2018 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Interview by Rina Goldman
Can you tell me about yourself, where are you from, what inspired you to start creating art?
I was born in Colombia, South America. Since I was a child I loved drawing, painting and playing with clay. I was trained as an Architect and then moved to USA and got a BFA at The Corcoran School of Art. These multiple disciplines give me the tools to create my ‘Alternative Whimsical Universes’.
What drew you to the particular trees that you reference in your “Flora Exótica Americana” series?
Finding a theme for my series is important for my creative process. FLORA EXOTICA AMERICANA is an infinite source of inspiration and it is a subject where I can combine the beauty of our natural species with their names, creating pieces where words and visuals complement each other.
Yarumo or Yagrumo or Guarumo or Guarumbo, 2017. Wire and fiber sculptures.
The colors and patterns used in the sculptures are not necessarily true to life, what drew you to those materials?
The subjects for my series are just a starting point for inspiration. My art is in constant search for abstraction. Freedom is basic for my creative process.
What was your goal with these pieces?
The goal with my work is to create alternative whimsical universes. Research is important for my inspiration and there is always a story, a name or an experience behind each piece. Then comes a process of playing with line, color, shape and finding the right title. I obsess with one theme until several finished pieces create an interesting and fun experience for me, and hopefully for the viewers.
Papayo or Papaw or Pawpaw or Papayuelo or Chamburo, 2017. Wire and fiber sculptures
Pitaya or Pitahaya, 2017. Wire and fiber sculptures.
Do you see your art as a means to communicate with those who do not speak the same language as you? How does language affect the way you create art?
Art is a language on its own, a universal language because it does not need translation. There is a tendency of explaining art works with words, it is not really necessary to me. It makes me very happy as an artist when viewers react to my work, it does not matter if they get something different of what inspired me. Freedom of interpretation is important for me too.
Where do you see your art going from here? Are you going to continue bridging gaps with your art?
I want to continue creating my Alternative Universes but in a larger scale. I want to see my art work bigger and in public spaces.
Marta Gutierrez’s work is included in Vox Lacunae at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from July 18th to August 22nd, 2018.
This is the fifth installment of the VOX LACUNAE artist interview series. VOX LACUNAE features work by Sobia Ahmad, Sera Boeno, Marta Gutierrez, Nilou Kazemzadeh, Jason Kuo, Kim Llerna, and Yuli Wang.
Nilou Kazemzadeh | Multimedia artist | Exhibiting in VOX LACUNAE from July 18 to August 22, 2018 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Interview by Rina Goldman
Tell me a bit about yourself, where are you from? How did you start creating art?
I was born and raised in Maryland by my immigrant Iranian parents. Since childhood, I always enjoyed artistic endeavors such as drawing random eligible writing on the wooden frame of my bed when I was probably around 6 or 7 years old. My parents also enrolled me in various art classes growing up at community art centers or Montgomery College. Besides those, I think what subconsciously lead me to creating art or being attracted to it was all the Persian art I grew up seeing and living with.
How did your work for VOX LACUNAE develop? Is it something you created for this show or had you previously been working with language and art?
I didn’t create the work specifically for VOX LACUNAE but when I saw the open call I knew my work would fit perfectly with the theme. The main focus of my work revolves around language and the meaning of things. When I was a student at the University of Maryland College Park I began to experiment with writing Farsi and translating it into art. Funny side story: I started incorporating Farsi calligraphy into my work when I had to take the language placement test at UMD. The first time I took it I was placed into intermediate Persian which was way above my understanding so I dropped out after the first class! I then made it my mission to test out of taking any Persian class. I began to read much more Farsi poetry and began to take the written words and repeating it on paper as a way of practicing, and that’s how style came into existence.
Within the exhibition, you have a collage, a carved pieces, an embossed pieces and an etching –that’s a wide variety of styles– what is your favorite to work with?
Now that you write it out, I do work with a lot of different materials and processes. I guess I enjoy seeing how the calligraphy is affected when it is incorporated into various materials or vice versa. Most of the work I produce is through printmaking which has so many different processes such as relief, intaglio, litho, and screen printing. I really enjoy experimenting and learning about new processes.
Mother’s Letters I. 2016. Woodcut, letter
How does being able to speak a language other than English impact your artwork?
Farsi as a language is very poetic and expressive. The script that makes up farsi is also very free flowing and mysterious to me. Growing up in America I would always have to code-switch growing up. Switching from my American culture to my Persian culture. As a result, naturally, I became more accustomed to english and my American culture. When I write in English, I can immediately read what I wrote. In Farsi, I can’t do that, I still have to sound out each and every letter in order to read it. I can’t just look at a Farsi word and read it, I think that’s why I am attracted to writing in Farsi and not in English.
You use the geometric style of Kufic calligraphy when writing in Farsi within your artwork, what drew you to that style? Does it mean something to you?
This goes back to my interest in experimenting. While I was researching different calligraphy styles, Kufic calligraphy stood out to me because of how different it looked. It is characterized by its very geometric script. The writing is arranged like a maze, everything fits perfectly in a given boundary. Learning how to write in Kufi makes me feel like i’ve built yet another bridge between my two identities.
What do you wish for people (who do not know Farsi) to see when looking at your work?
I understand that the meaning of my work can be hard to understand, especially when the viewer cannot read Farsi or decipher the words. I would like viewers to take in the effect that I create with the calligraphy, and if i’ve done a good job of presenting the work, they will be able to feel the emotions I felt in the process. For an example, Sal-e Bad almost looks like a maze with no real exit point. It feels tight and suffocating with no open space. Release in contrast, is light and airy, the prints gently billow as they hang from the wall. The work allows for a moment of reflection and rest.
When creating Sal-e Bad(The Bad Year), why did you choose to do a blind embossing instead of a print? What does blind embossing represent to you?
Sal-e Bad was created after a difficult phase in my life. The poetry reads:
“The bad year, the windy year, the year of tears, the year of doubts, the year of long days” – Ahmad Shamlu
For this piece I took those words and arranged them in a repeating and mirrored Kufic style. By using this poem, which I related so deeply to at the time, helped me close a door on that chapter of my life. Through my work, the repeated writing, in a way has become a mode of personal healing. This leads me to explain why I chose to do a blind embossment instead of a inked print. When I was experimenting, I wanted to try doing a print with an exaggerated indentation. When I pulled the blind embossment off the block I was immediately taken by the light and shadow play. In certain light sources the calligraphy fully reveals itself to the viewer why in others, the print looks like a blank unused piece of paper. This alludes to the hidden struggles we go through throughout our lives. Sometimes these conflicts are physical and in view while some can be internal and unseen. The blind embossment was then the best chose in representing how I felt during that time.
Sal-e Bad (The Bad Year). 2017. Blind embossment
Can you tell me a bit more about your piece Release? What drew you to create such a contradictory piece?
Release was made before all the other pieces, and was created in response to the 2016 Republican Primaries. This event opened my eyes to the very real distrust and prejudice pressed upon people of Middle Eastern background. Just like I state in the previous response, the prints were a way for me to reason and work through my issues and emotions. The poetry I used for this piece reads:
“You will not deserve the name of human, if you are indifferent of others pains.” -Saadi
The act of repeating these words endlessly over the surface of the plate allowed me the time to really think about what this poem meant to me. I learned that the poem is not just about the people I felt needed to hear this, but also my reaction to the things they said. How can I be setting myself above these people when I too was feeding into the hatred. So this poem really became a mantra for my growth as a person. I still have times when I let my emotions get the best of me, but this poem always comes to mind when necessary and I remember the meaning of the piece and that helps ground me.
Release, 2016. Intaglio/relief collagraph on mulberry paper
How do you feel your use of language within your art works to fill a gap in our understanding of different cultures?
Growing up, I never really saw anything connected to my Persian culture outside of my home and family. I think it is extremely important to represent yourself and your culture to the outside world in order to demystify presumptions of one’s identity. I think including farsi calligraphy helps normalize Arabic looking text and imagery. I believe that most of the distrust and hatred stems from our fear of the unknown. From my own experience, i’ve found that being present and a proud middle eastern woman helps rewrite the age old stereotypes of my people and neighbors.
What inspires you to create art? Where do your ideas come from?
My inspiration comes from wanting to represent my rich culture as a way of honoring my ancestors and family. It’s a way of learning about myself and growing as a person. My ideas comes from my environment, things I read, images I see, my friends and family, artifacts I find around the house. Anything can potentially inspire the creation of work.
Where do you see your art going from here?
I have absolutely no idea! All I know is that creating art is an integral part of my life and I will continue to do it for a very long time!
Nilou Kazemzadeh’s work is included in Vox Lacunae at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from July 18th to August 22nd, 2018.
This is the fifth installment of the capital lives artist interview series. capital lives features work by Bo Chen, Sydney Gray, Sarah O’Donoghue, Brea Soul, Christine Stoddard, and Nevada Taylor.
Sydney Gray | Photographer | Exhibiting in capital lives from May 30 to July 4, 2018 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Interview by Rina Goldman
Can you tell me a bit about yourself, where are you from, how did you end up in Washington D.C.?
I am originally from the suburbs of Philadelphia. I am a student at the George Washington University which brought me to Washington, D.C.. I started photography my sophomore year of high school but my passion for it really developed after I tore my ACL four times in 3.5 years and realized playing sports was no longer going to be in my future.
As a student at George Washington University, how does your environment affect your photography? Is there a direct correlation between the two?
Being a student at the George Washington University has put me in a different environment then I was used to. In high school I would always complain that there was nothing for me to take pictures of for photo class because the only things in walking distance were grass trees and houses. Now, being in the city there is a wealth of interesting subjects to photograph. The people, the architecture, the streets are all available to me with ease. But my favorite type of photos to take are portraits and consistently being surrounded by other students and friends makes portraits very accessible. It also does wonders for my creative process because things feel so much more attainable being in such an open and inviting environment.
Where do you find inspiration? What about photography inspires you?
In many ways I feel I still have yet to grasp my true inspiration. For now I enjoy exploring what I can do and learn through my camera. I feel I can really capture moments and places with my camera, but I can also capture people. The pictures that were on display for this gallery for instance, I took for my photography class. I love how I was able to pair the blurbs that the subjects wrote with the pictures to truly tell the audience about who they are.
In your work, you showcase the “true beauty” of black women, what effect does being a black woman have on who you choose to photograph?
In general, I am not picky about who I take photos of. I love to capture the essence of people from various races, nationalities and ethnicities. In fact, I hope to take photos of a more diverse group of people in the future. With that being said, as a black female I feel a sense of attachment to other black females. In a way taking pictures of other black females is an extension of myself. My favorite feeling is when my subjects can truly see themselves as a strong and beautiful person no matter how they felt about themselves previously. I know that through my photographs I am changing people’s perception of themself, whether it is for a brief second or the rest of their lives I know in my heart I am making a small positive difference in their lives.
Gray, Sydney. Confidence from Behind. 2017. Digital Photography.
Can you elaborate on the process of taking these photos, particularly Confidence from Behind?
Each photograph and scene had its own creative process associated with it. Confidence from Behind is probably one of my favorite photos from the grouping. It is of my roommate and it was actually taken in our dorm room. I knew we were in a safe space so I wanted to take the opportunity to push the boundaries a little. I wanted to display confidence and many times that goes hand in hand with body image so I figured let’s show some skin. On a whim I asked my roommate if she would feel comfortable asking pictures with just a jacket on and no shirt underneath it. To my surprise she said yes almost instantly. Once we finished taking the pictures I was so excited to show her the ones I really liked but she didn’t want to look at any of them. I had to push and repeat how great they looked before she finally gave in and looked at them. In that moment I was definitely struck by how my project could really help people see themselves in a new way.
How are these women an example of D.C. today?
When I think of DC I think so people coming from so many different places. The group of women that I took photos of represent various backgrounds. The backgrounds of those represented in the gallery include, Kenyan from Princeton, New Jersey, half Jamaican from Steven City, Virginia, and Nigerian but lived in Ohio, Texas and most recently Virginia. This just proves that the people that live in DC tend to have very diverse backgrounds and many times aren’t originally from DC itself. That is just one thing I love about living in this city, I have met people from and learned so much about various cultures that I never knew about before.
Gray, Sydney. Flower Girl. 2017. Digital Photography
Do the flowers you’ve incorporated into two of the pieces have any specific meaning?
The idea behind the photos with the flowers was to parallel natural hair with nature.
Some of the pieces are accompanied by quotes from the models, how did that come about?
Originally I was not going to do this. My photo professor had suggested it early on in a general setting but I had not thought about it again until a couple of days before the project was due. After looking at all the photos as a whole I realized how strongly they oozed black beauty and Black Girl Magic. At that point I thought back to my professor’s suggestion to have quotes that accompany the photographs and I thought having my friends speak to their experience as a black female would bring the photos to life. The quotes that my friends provided exceeded my expectations. They ranged, some spoke on personal struggles, others took a humorous approach but together I believe they really embodied what it was like to be a black female.
Gray, Sydney. Naturally Lizz. 2017. Digital Photography. But the best part of growing up so far has been becoming more confident and growing to love the way my body looks and the skin that I have, and it’s crazy to me now that I used to hate myself so much when I was younger. Struggling with body image and acceptance isn’t uncommon, and like a lot of girls my age in America, I definitely struggled. ~Lizz
Gray, Sydney. Lisa. 2017. Digital Photography.
Do you have a favorite piece, or one that was most exciting for you to shoot?
My favorite picture was probably confidence from behind and I would love to reshoot photos like that with better lighting and equipment. I also love the simplicity of Lisa. There also a few that were not in the gallery but part of the full project that I loved as well.
What camera did you use for the portrait photography displayed in capital lives?
I use a Nikon D750.
Are there any future projects in the works?
Currently I do not have any big projects in the works. I hope to brainstorm ideas and maybe carry them out during the summer. I have a list of places I want to have fun photoshoots at around the District however. I am also studying abroad next semester so I am looking forward to the beautiful photographs I know I will take overseas.
Finally, the last question we are asking all the contributing artists is, what lies behind the image of power?
Power can be expressed in so many different ways and it isn’t even all through people. If the subject is a person I believe power comes from within that person and it will exude from the photograph. But if the photograph is not of a person then I believe power comes from the audience. Different things make different people feel power. Overall, I do believe the right balance of power in a key to confidence and success.
Gray’s work is included in capital lives at The Stamp Gallery of the University of Maryland, College Park, from May 30 through July 3, 2018.
