The Secret Hall of Mirrors

Facing your inner self can be one of the most intimidating experiences that come with growing up. But artist Katty Huertas invites her viewers to take a seat and get comfortable with that concept, whether they’re ready or not. The Colombian-born artist and Maryland Institute College of Art MFA student is not afraid of the skeletons in her closet, or yours for that matter. One could describe her style as introspective, but it’s deeper than that.

Her artwork gives us a broad perspective of identity for ourselves and our surroundings. Especially because it causes a reaction that helps us get in touch with what some call “our shadow side,” or what most people don’t want to face out of fear for what may lie beneath our actions and thoughts. She explains, “I’ve become more comfortable with exploring different mediums and technologies. Before, I tried to stick closely to my “style” but I’ve been letting myself try new things as this is one of the only ways to grow as an artist.”

Huertas’ talent is broad, as she successfully creates illustrations, graphics, and paintings, and most recently she painted banners for the 2020 Women’s March in Washington D.C. Her works are like looking into a mirror and seeing part of your soul. They pull you to enter through a tunnel that leads to a process of self progression towards acceptance of what is being represented.

This process may start with questioning of a feeling or thought, then leading to a level of awareness about what is occurring within ourselves and why. Finally, we arrive at a conclusion or acceptance of certain things we have to come to terms with about ourselves, in a way that translates to our personal experiences. 

There is another strong theme of the self vs. society in Huertas’ art, as she poses the question of not only what is going on within, but also without. In other words, there is an upfront inquiry about what is external to ourselves to get a 360 perspective on our relationship with society. We can see this in her themes of gender equality, immigrant empowerment, and animal rights.

These works pose the questions of what roles we play in society, how we connect to the world, and lead us to the bigger question of what we’re going to do about it. “I want people to realize that art is powerful. Art is more than mere decoration, it delivers messages and can inspire change. Through my work, I also want to highlight stories that have otherwise been pushed to the edges,” says Huertas.

It is through her soft use of color, details, contrast, and contour that we’re able to connect with the message behind the work itself. The aesthetic softness builds a bridge between these deeper truths and how we’re able to visualize each work’s message through an honest and approachable manner. Huertas’s paintings portray a deeper sense of identity, yet the beauty of her work allow us to digest the message in stride. The colors heighten a moody response as they pull you in.

If you look deeper you can feel the sensitivity or vibe that is presented as a whole. Take her SELF-ISH series as an example, where you can absorb the character’s feelings. A sense of confusion from the woman with the “moving” face or that shyness behind the skeleton painted face. Ultimately these paintings portray what we don’t always want to show when we face difficulties--those emotions that others don’t get to see. They represent what make us essentially who we are, our vulnerability, our gender, our fears, our deepest hopes, or our sadness.

To learn more about this artist, please visit her site.

Today’s poem resembles the whimsical themes found in Katty’s artwork:

Susie Asado

BY GERTRUDE STEIN

Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet tea.

       Susie Asado.

Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet tea.

       Susie Asado.

Susie Asado which is a told tray sure.

A lean on the shoe this means slips slips hers.

When the ancient light grey is clean it is yellow, it is a silver seller.

This is a please this is a please there are the saids to jelly. These are the wets these say the sets to leave a crown to Incy.

Incy is short for incubus.

A pot. A pot is a beginning of a rare bit of trees. Trees tremble, the old vats are in bobbles, bobbles which shade and shove and render clean, render clean must.   

       Drink pups.   

Drink pups drink pups lease a sash hold, see it shine and a bobolink has pins. It shows a nail.

What is a nail. A nail is unison.

Sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet tea.

The Transformative Pop of Color

There is more than meets the eye to experimenting with color. For painters, it is a skill that takes trial and error, practice, observation, and precision. Barbara Januszkiewicz, a Washington, DC area artist is no stranger to honing this skill.

As a leading voice of the DC area creative arts, Januszkiewicz discovered that her way of communicating with her audience is through the boldness of color fields. It all started when she worked as an independent filmmaker who wanted to film artists from the Washington Color School, an art movement focusing on abstract expressionism that developed from 1950s to the 1970s in the DC area.

Januszkiewicz explains, “There are three people who have influenced me most in my creative process: R. Buckminster Full, Matthew Shipp, and Paul Reed. In my early 20s, I met R. Buckminster Full who encouraged me to think about impact, influences, and humanity. Matthew Shipp, in my opinion the MOST brilliant free jazz piano player living today, continues to influence me in the areas of freedom, creativity, and maintaining a unique voice. And, finally, painter Paul Reed from the Washington Color School movement demonstrated to me that as we age although we can expect expertise, it is important to keep a humble head and a healthy sense of curiosity.”

As a "colorist" (i.e., an artist who portrays color as the root of their work from which everything else stems), she has discovered a great deal of knowledge about how each color interacts with another, how they can change the visual perception of space, and how these relationships impact the underlying flow within the work itself. As Januszkiewicz puts it, “it’s like a game of chess.”

When you look at Januszkiewicz’s work, you immediately notice the way colors play with your visual field. It’s not just about the connectivity of color and emotion, but more so about the way the color fields transform before our eyes, causing an individualised reaction. There is fluidity to the work, where acrylics are transformed to act like watercolors that not only have vibrancy and cohesion from one blend to the next, but also a movement that builds from a soft place.

Januszkiewicz explains her creative process, “I named [my paintings] all after songs, I title it to find the painting again, untitled, it’s hard to find the work later. Art is improvising and gives the freedom of not being restrained. I’m treating acrylics like a watery watercolor. I warm up on the paper. I warm up trying to help me open up to really get me into the creative practice. [This practice] engages my whole being into how you make decisions on what to create and to get rid of that moment of being scared, then anything is possible. That helps me break down that barrier, that helps me practice my zen.”

The color fields take a life of their own, as if they’re ethereal living creatures in constant state of transformation. The beauty of Januszkiewicz’s work is that you can make something out of what you see from any angle. Your eye can lead you to form any concept or shape from what you see thanks to abstraction and the breathable white spaces in between. It’s almost like the shades in each painting taking over slowly but surely in a form of metamorphosis.

For more about the artist, check out her website, and to learn more about Metro Micro Gallery, her local art community initiative, click here.

Today’s poem is inspired by Barbara’s affinity for soft beauty through her sheer, multicolored layers:

She Walks in Beauty

BY LORD BYRON (GEORGE GORDON)

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impaired the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o’er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express,

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!

As Above, So Below

Curiosity for our environment is what drives our knowledge.  This natural sequence stems from our perception and Vu Q. Nguyen’s artwork persuades us look beyond that surface. As a nature-inspired artist, he believes in the importance of organic interactions and how these impact our lives in a number of ways.

“My interest in the relationship between nature and humans stems from my family and how I grew up. Farming and agriculture played a big part, from places where we plant the food we eat to creating a sense of community. Like many artists, I look to nature to find inspiration but for me it is important to represent nature's influences on every day life. We leave our 'human' traces where we live but how that affects other parts of the world in not very apparent,” he says.

What you might immediately notice in Nguyen’s paintings aside from the beautiful blends of colors are the shapes and dimensions.  It all comes down to perception, whether we’re focusing on the bigger picture or just a specific part of it. Whichever way you see it, the context extends like an infinity pool of abstraction where the details take over the entire canvas. The gentle colors and gestural marks represent something that can’t be ignored, which are part of the overall abundance of emotion being evoked beyond the top layer. These marks are all unique in shape, brightness, opaqueness, and stand out to complement the environment, yet show us that one detail cannot exist without the others. Even if parts of the painting stand out, they all belong to the whole, which is the way nature and experiences work. There might be good, bad, surprising parts to everything we experience, but if one hadn’t occurred, then we wouldn’t have the same results after all.

Nguyen explains, “I had a deep interest in storytelling when I first began my career. I represented those stories with symbols and figures. Most of my early works contained symbols that were culturally specific and figures of family and friends whom I knew well. I wanted to tell their stories while incorporating an element of place. Over time my work became more abstract which for me was a natural progression because I became more involved with traveling and nature. I felt that I could tell my story better with more of an emotional expression rather than pure representation.”

The abstract shapes represent the complexities of everything we see in life, yet everything portrayed has many layers, like the physical earth does. These layers can portray anything you imagine, even though Nguyen’s work is built on his travel and organic experiences, what you see can also be applicable to the overall environment within life. Everything in our environment is layered because nothing is really black and white, there are more shades of gray than anything else, which again leads us to perception and how we may see the surface and what lies underneath. Think of each layer and pigment in the paintings as what is beneath each person, the earth, feelings, reactions to actions, among other examples.

“My works over the past five or more years have been linked to land in the sense of how it's divided over time. I incorporate this with things that I find interesting in that area. I make small sketches that represent patterns of what I see. I start the base of my paintings as maps some real, some I make up. Then I put layers of patterns that I've collected more of which will obscure all the drawing underneath. I use a wide variety of mediums. Currently I create a lot of my work using dry pigment. I tend to use drawing as painting so oil sticks, pens, markers, charcoal/graphite is my main go-to,” he says.

There is a sense of looking within and without when you’re observing these landscapes.  This causes you to look into what is there from the inside, meaning the layers and what completes the whole or it causes you to look at the bigger picture, as if you’re looking at things from the sky. It all depends on your personal viewpoint, which relates to how you look at things in life: Are you looking at the details up close and analyzing every single thing that is presented right in front of you, or are you pulling back and analyzing things from afar and getting a gist of what the overall message might be? That is the question.

Nugyen exhibited his work at the Foundry Gallery in Washington D.C. this past spring. For more about the artist’s work, please visit his website.

Today’s poem represents the detail of emotive color and movement found in Vu’s paintings:

Field of Moving Colors Layered

BY TINO VILLANUEVA

I’m not easily mesmerized.

But how can you not be drawn in by swirls,

angles and whorls brought together to obey

a field of moving colors layered, muted ...

others bright that make you linger

there?

Just look at those Carpaccio reds.

Right then my mind

leaps to Cezanne:

his dark-blue vest in Self-Portrait (1879–1880);

the Seven Bathers (ca. 1900) wallowing in blue;

his blue beyond in Château Noir (1904).

Consider now the three, or is it four figures

in Alberto Valdés’s Untitled (ca. 1965).

They are wayward energy, moving right

to left (the right one more sensuous than the rest)

about to dive

into the deep-blue waiting — call it the unknown.

I’d like to be there when they meet that blue abyss

head on.

Will they keep their shape, I wonder,

or break up and rearrange themselves

into a brighter, more memorable pose

... into a bigger elemental thing?

I’m really asking this:

When they run into the landscape of blue,

will these figures lose their logic of luster?

Will they lose their lucid argument of color,

their accumulated wealth of geometry?

Will they still engage the entire me,

hold me,

keep me mesmerized?