Showing posts with label abstract painting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label abstract painting. Show all posts

Sunday, July 12, 2026

Short Answer Sunday: Carlie Kinto

Meant to elicit quick, intuitive responses, Short Answer Sunday will introduce readers to a wide variety of artists, educators, writers, curators, art enthusiasts and art adjacent individuals whose inclinations I admire. With the intent of getting to know the person behind the artwork as well generating new avenues to artistic discovery, participants may respond with only a few words or an artist’s name, always with the opportunity to elaborate if they wish!

Happy Sunday, everyone. This week I am so excited to share a Short Answer Sunday with artist Carlie Kinto. Carlie and I went to the same grad program in DC, and even though our time there didn’t overlap, I’ve been an avid follower of her work since about 2010. I most often think of Carlie as a painter, although she also works with jewelry, metals and 3D mixed-media arrangements. Her paintings combine a broad range of paint media (gouache, acrylic, oil, Flashe, ink, etc.) and also less traditional painting substances like rhinestones, glitter and sand. Carlie’s use of the conventional and the idiosyncratic extends into her supports which run the gamut of size, shape and material.

There are many reasons why I am drawn to Carlie’s work, but one striking reason is her investigation into two ongoing, yet distinct, bodies of work—one that is primarily abstract, and another which is based on the observational, natural landscape. Although they are different bodies of work with varying agendas and processes, to me, they are cumulative and in dialogue. Carlie’s abstractions often include spiritual symbolism—spirals, moons, stars, mandalas and double ellipses. Much of this imagery references phenomena in the natural world, but Carlie’s renditions feel like a turn inward, an inner vision that feels both familiar and unnameable. Her deliberate, chromatic landscapes encourage close looking and evoke a similar sense of solitude, wonder, pattern, and time. Whether representational or abstract, all of Carlie’s paintings show the artist’s penchant for layered mark-making, vibrant, complicated color/pattern relationships and her awe + reverence for the natural and spiritual worlds (which are maybe not so separate after all).

Carlie’s responses are wonderful and provide such a great foundation for looking and thinking about her work. For more about Carlie Kinto, go to her website and follow her on Instagram. Thanks for reading, pals 😊
xo, Lauren


Name: Carlie Kinto
Occupation: Artist (day job- Administrative Assistant to a design team)
Astrological data: Sagittarius Sun and Rising, Gemini Moon, Libra MC
Hometown: Bend, Oregon
Current location: Portland, Oregon

Other than Instagram, how do you find new-to-you artists?

Art books, word of mouth, art shows

An artwork that makes you laugh?

Medieval paintings of cats

An artwork that makes you cry?

“The Artist is Present” by Marina Abramović

Most underrated artist?

It’s hard to answer this one because I feel like there are so many great artists making art today that don’t get enough recognition

An artwork that you’d like to live inside for a week?

“Paysage méridional: Le Cannet” by Pierre Bonnard

An artist whose work you can’t stop thinking about?

Raina Lee stoneware paintings, Lily Stockman, Yevgeniya Baras

An artwork that feels like a warm hug?

“Two sunflowers” by Joan Mitchell

“Mimi’s Garden” by Hayley Barker


Joan Mitchell, Two Sunflowers, 1980. Oil on canvas, 110 1/4 x 142 x 1 1/4 inches

What’s your favorite characteristic in an artwork?

Soulfulness… the artist’s hand, a bit of tension, texture, imperfections

Erotic artwork? (Ed. note: this is a multiple choice question)

Other: Depends

What’s an artwork that doesn’t look like art?

Jewelry doesn’t get enough credit as art

What’s an artwork that you suspect that you shouldn’t like, but you do (guilty pleasure)?

“The Kiss” by Gustov Klimt and in general decoration and pattern

What’s an artwork that you secretly hate?

David Hockney iPad drawings

Most insane art piece?

“The Four Seasons” Charles E. Burchfield

Light Years, “finite sequence of mathematically rigorous instructions” by Judith Pfaff


Charles E. Burchfield, The Four Seasons, 1949-1960, watercolor on joined paper mounted on board, 55 7/8 X 47 7/8 inches

Fav monograph or art book?

Another World: The Transcendental Painting Group

Fav museum or gallery in your current location?

PAM and Nationale

Last exhibition you saw irl?

A Queer Arcana: Art, Magic, and Spirit at Palm Springs Art Museum

An artwork that packs a spiritual punch?

Tantric paintings from Rajasthan, India. (From the book ‘Tantra song’)

An artwork that you’d like to see before you die?

“The Ten Largest” by Hilma af Klint

What art material do you love to nerd out on?

Sennelier oil pastels 💸

What was the last thing that you listened to in the studio?

Aphex Twin

What’s a book that changed your life?

You Were Born For This by Chani Nicholas

What song, book, podcast or film do you think everyone should know about?

The Telepathy Tapes podcast

Carlie Kinto is a multidisciplinary artist who creates abstract and landscape paintings, jewelry and installations.

Her abstract paintings reveal the metaphysical and otherworldly through a meditative process of building layers through repetitive mark-making, using intuitive techniques like scrying to allow images to unconsciously emerge. These coalesce into compositions that embody primal ecological forms and processes such as the spiral or cell division and evolution, reflecting Carlie's interest in the patterns the universe reveals from the cosmic to the microcosmic.

Her landscapes are painted on location. Similarly to her abstractions they are created through a process of building layers and repetitive marks with the intention to capture the energetic vibration, and the constant change and motion of nature. She embraces the chaos and bright colors of lush gardens and tress to capture the emotionally expressive feeling of a place.

Carlie Kinto received her Bachelor of Fine Arts in Painting and Drawing from University of Oregon in 2007 and her Master of Fine Arts in Studio Art from American University in 2010.

For more about Carlie Kinto, find her on her website and Instagram.


Monday, February 2, 2026

Interview with Lauren Rice: Reflecting on CUT IT LOOSE and Recent Work

After seeing her solo show, CUT IT LOOSE at ADA gallery, I wanted to interview Lauren because I was curious to hear more about her beautiful, labor-intensive work. She is also one of the most interesting thinkers that I know and a dear friend. 


Lauren does not do things halfway, and this is reflected in her art, as she consistently challenges herself to make large-scale works on paper. Each piece contains a vast number of intricately cut-out shapes and eclectic selections of paper, yarn, or embroidery floss scraps. Some have glitter, and some have beads. These odds and ends are not decorative; rather, they operate as integral components of each work’s formal composition. 


From economic philosophy to the history of rock music, from poetry to astrology, Lauren’s interests are wide-ranging, and her work reflects this broad-minded, expansive way of thinking. It does not, nor is it intended to reveal meaning plainly. In its details, it presents layers of possible content. Along with their allusive titles, each piece invites us on a journey, where the destination is a sum of our associations and Lauren’s blend of magical colors and shapes.


CUT IT LOOSE was on view at ADA Gallery from November 7th to December of 2025. 

                        

                                                                                                                          -Nikki/Art Habit



Cut It Loose opening



Art Habit: You recently had a beautiful exhibition, Cut It Loose, at ADA Gallery in Richmond, Virginia. In the statement for the show, you noted that the spirit of this body of work is “punk.” How/why is that idea important to you and to your work?


Lauren Rice: Nikki, thank you so much for your thoughtful questions! I really enjoyed answering them. I think interviews are such a great format for reflection and I sincerely appreciate this opportunity to reflect on my recent show.

 

The conception of punk that I am trying to cultivate in my work is more of an attitude than any sort of sonic or visual aesthetic. Ultimately, this attitude has its roots in irreverence and iconoclasm, a DIY sensibility and a certain fuckyouedness (for lack of a better word). These are tendencies that are a part of my personality (or sometimes aspirational) that are grounded in both the way that I work and in the type of work that I create. 

 

One of the best comments that I’ve had about my recent work is that it takes itself seriously, but not too seriously—it has a self-deprecating quality. For example, I spend a gazillion hours hand-cutting intricate shapes out of paper – this labor indicates a level of commitment which demands to be taken seriously.  But it is also a really stupid move, as the accumulating negative space threatens to destroy the physical integrity of the piece, and probably makes it less commercially viable to boot. There’s a bit of a cut-off-nose-to-spite-face attitude that I really enjoy. All of these sensibilities, to me, are punk.

 

Something that I really like about this notion is that I am not beholden to a singular aesthetic. Johnny Cash is spiritually punk. Just look at the different ways that bands like Fugazi and Beat Happening interpreted punk. This gives me a sense of liberty in the studio. It’s permission to mix and synthesize all manner of materials and influences, and this brings out a subversive goofiness. I think that my work could change directions in terms of material and method and still not compromise this spirit. I like that it is rebellious and inspired by the creative possibilities within destruction. At the same time, I’m really committed to the materials I currently use—to paper, spray paint, embroidery floss, etc. I like to use these materials the wrong way. I like the historical relevance of these materials, especially those that have a relationship to graffiti, craft and kitsch. The simple framework of materials provides a structure that I can push against and manipulate.



Albers, Backwards, 2025

Spray paint, gouache and embroidery floss on hand cut and collaged paper

55 x 45 inches



AH: How do you come up with titles for your work? And for your exhibitions?


LR: My titles for pieces and shows come out of a combination of deliberation and intuition.  Most of the time there’s a natural evolution of a title as the work develops. As I’m working, I find myself getting obsessed with words, phrases or lyrics and this inevitably generates the title. I do keep a running notes app list of possible titles, and I’ll go there (or explore a bit of bibliomancy) in the cases where I can’t think of one. Every so often, the title arrives in a flash, fully formed as if the painting whispered its name in my ear. I just remembered a few times when the title came first, and then I made the piece. So, I guess my process for naming things runs the full gamut.

 

Ultimately, to satisfy me my titles have to point a finger towards what I am thinking about as I am making the work, without being didactic. I like for the titles to be both visually evident in the work and to suggest a direction where a deeper understanding can be found. I think a lot of people tend to think of abstract art as just being about the formal attributes, but those formal attributes carry a contextual weight, too, and I hope my titles draw attention to this. Extra points if they can include a joke or double-entendre.

 

In the case of coming up with the title for my ADA show, I really struggled for a while. Nothing on my notes app list rang true. When CUT IT LOOSE arrived in my brain, it felt like a simple directive and an incantation, as well as nodding to my processes in the studio. It came out of my interest in astrology combined with being a pretty literal description of what I was doing in the studio—cutting things loose! The show opened during Scorpio season and I wanted to charge the show with that specific energy of letting go, death/rebirth and transformation. I also love the reference to lacking restraint, as I felt like there was a lot of unhinged contortion in the works in the show.



Cut It Loose opening

 


AH: How do you make decisions about a work’s formal properties? How much of the process is intuitive vs. planned out beforehand?


LR: Sometimes ideas for paintings come to me in visions or in dreams, but even if I have a plan, it is always a loose one. All bets are off once I make the first mark. In fact, I’ll usually intentionally push against my initial vision to add an element of surprise, to lean into chance and remove a bit of personal control. My work really develops through a conversation with the painting as it is being made. I like puzzles, being pushed to make unusual connections and attempting to solve complex, irrational problems, so this aspect of discovery is really tied to my studio practice.

 

I recently realized that my process of making a painting is very similar to my writing process. I often start with an overabundant mess that I gradually refine over a period of time. The work needs time to cook. Then it is open to being edited, torn apart, layered, revised.

 

It’s important to remember that intuitive doesn’t mean quick or not thought out. It is a response to considered and engaged looking, but one that often resists logical or linguistic explanation.



A Crooked Path, 2025

Spray paint, acrylic, gouache, flashe and embroidery floss on hand cut and collaged paper

31 x 23 inches



AH: What is your relationship to beauty, in general vs. in your work? (Is there a distinction?)

LR: In the studio, I’m most interested in the beauty of small, uneventful moments—a chance meeting, the fleck of light that catches your eye, a precious paper discard, the rip that looks like lace, an ominous shadow, the mysterious magic of mark-making when elements of control are removed. I find so much beauty in simple contrasts and accidents, the things that are beyond my control, and I try to generate those beautiful accidents in my paintings. It’s more about awareness than anything else, about catching those moments, because they are easy to miss. I think this also applies to life outside of the studio as well.

 

Since I can’t resist the opportunity to plug another book, in Rebecca Solnit’s Orwell’s Roses, she writes impeccably about beauty, and I find her thoughts on George Orwell’s relationship to beauty to coincide with my own:

 

In the introduction to the thick Everyman’s edition of Orwell’s Collected Essays,John Carey declares, “He almost never praises beauty and when he does he locates it in the rather scruffy and overlooked things…the eye of the common toad, a sixpenny rosebush from Woolworth’s.” I’d argue that he praises beauty often, and those overlooked things become means of broadening the definition of beauty, finding versions that are not elite or established, finding loveliness in the quotidian, the plebian, the neglected. That quest makes beauty itself subordinate to convention. Even Nineteen Eighty-Four’s grimness is peppered with moments of reprieve in the things his lonely rebel admires, craves, enjoys, most notably an ordinary landscape and a glass paperweight encasing a bit of red coral.

 

I’m also currently reading Dave Hickey’s 1993 collection of essays “The Invisible Dragon”, his self-proclaimed “polemical broadside about beauty”. While I’m too early on to give my official recommendation, the first essay is a full-on belter.  I’m excited to learn more about the attitudes about beauty in the arts in the late 80s and early 90s, according to Hickey.



Way Far Out, 2025
Spray paint, acrylic, gouache, colored pencil, cotton twine and embroidery floss on hand cut and collaged paper
100 x 80 inches



AH: What advice would you give yourself if you could go back in time 20 years (and why)?


LR: I have been deliberating over this question for a while, trying to come up with the absolute best advice to give my 26-year-old self. At this point, I think I might as well go with the obvious: Trust yourself. Don’t overthink it!



Way Far Out in Rice’s studio, July 2025


AH: You have said that you initially resisted cut-outs in your work. Why, and how did you come to embrace them? Why are they important to your current work?


LR: I did initially resist the cut outs. Here’s a little backstory: In my second year of grad school, a friend showed some of my early collage work to a gallerist. The feedback I received was to do more of the cut outs, to make them cleaner and more obsessive. Unfortunately (or fortunately), I have a natural resistance impulse kick in when people tell me what to do. In my stubbornness, I was skeptical of following his feedback. My thought at the time was that it would be too gimmicky and cute! It had been DONE. In retrospect, embracing the cut out, in spite of (or because of!) its somewhat cliched quality, allowed me to arrive at a way of cutting out that felt right for me. I think we get to things at our own pace, when we are ready.

 

The cut out is such an elegant way of making a mark, and I like how it forms a natural opposition to my more aggressive ways of subtraction, like tearing. The labor involved with cutting by hand lends credence to the gestural, watery paint splashes and sprays. I also am obsessed with the way the cut out acknowledges the three-dimensionality of paper. It’s so simple! But it is just mesmerizing to me. 

 

I’ll also give my usual shout out to The Artist’s Way. When we did the book, I found myself reflecting on the cut outs a lot and why I rejected the advice from the gallerist all those years ago. My willingness to lean into them definitely came after reading The Artist’s Way. In the book, there’s emphasis on doing things that you thought that you weren’t supposed to do. For me, this translated into letting myself learn more about tarot and astrology, obsess over the music of my 80’s and 90’s youth, and emphasize the cut out as a visual element in my work.



Afterimage, 2025
Spray paint, gouache, colored pencil, embroidery floss and plastic bag on hand cut and collaged paper
55 x 43 inches



AH: I know that media (music, books, movies, podcasts, etc.) is important to you. How does it relate to the work you make? 


LR: Books are guides. They offer the only way to get almost entirely into someone else’s head—even if it’s a fictional character. These days, I read as much non-fiction as fiction, and I think a lot of what I’ve read recently about politics and economic philosophy has had an impact on my work, in addition to some books I’ve recently read about music (two thumbs up from me for Michael Azerrad’s 2002 classic Our Band Could Be Your Life: Scenes from the American Indie Underground 1981-1991). Tension between groups is something I’ve been thinking about a lot (based on our current political reality and events of the past) and I’ve been exploring ways of developing (and releasing) this tension in my paintings.

 

Depending on my mood, I listen to both music and podcasts while I work. I listen to a lot of podcasts about music, politics, news, books, astrology and cosmology (only rarely about art!). I often make Spotify playlists that correspond to pieces that I’m making in the studio, that cultivate the vibe I’m going for. 

 

I do love movies, too, although I’ve probably been more of a TV person in the last decade or so. Being somewhat of a nostalgic person, my favorite movies are from my youth and also usually have memorable soundtracks (Reality Bites, Trainspotting, Grosse Point Blank, Magnolia, Bottle Rocket, you get the picture). At the moment, I’d say that watching movies/TV is a type of rest for me, rather than a direct contributor to my work. That said, last spring I watched Wim Wenders’ Wings of Desire for the first time and the aesthetics of the movie, the soundtrack and the content were deeply inspirational.



Gravity’s Rothko, 2025

Spray paint, acrylic, gouache, graphite powder, glitter paper, assorted string, plastic beads and embroidery floss on hand cut and collaged paper, 85 x 55 inches



AH: What is your top book/song/podcast for the past year?


LR: Since 2023, my top podcast has been Bandsplain. I love host Yasi Salek, her attitude and her perspective. She cracks me up and for whatever reason makes listening to 3+ hour podcasts recounting nitty-gritty details about a band totally fascinating. Bandsplain really feeds my nostalgic tendencies for the music of my youth and gives me a lot of solid contextual information about bands that I really like (or didn’t really know). The deep dive into the various personal and creative dynamics of these bands encourages me to listen to whole albums instead of individual songs, something that I miss in our culture of digital listening.



Family photo at Cut It Loose opening



AH: What are you excited about/hopeful for in the year ahead?


LR: Lately, I’ve found myself thinking small and focusing on the little things that give me hope and pleasure. Below are a few things that I am looking forward to in the year ahead.

 

I’m excited about the asparagus that my husband and I planted three years ago! I’ve been wanting to plant asparagus since reading Barbara Kingsolver’s book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle many years ago. Asparagus has a three-year wait time from planting to harvesting.  This spring will be our first harvest.

 

In May, I’m taking a third group of students to Berlin for a study abroad class that I developed, The Art and History of Berlin. As a group, we examine Berlin’s complex history and how this history has created an environment conducive to the creation of contemporary art.

 

In 2025, I had two solo shows, so I am really excited to have time in the studio where I can be less focused on production and more focused on experimentation and play.

 

I’m psyched to have a residency at The Virginia Center for Creative Arts (VCCA) in June/July. This will be my first away-from-home residency since becoming a mom 10 years ago!!



AH: Lauren, thank you for taking the time to share about your exhibition and your work so thoughtfully!


You can learn more about Lauren at her website and Instagram.



**All images courtesy/copyright the artist.**


Wednesday, June 26, 2024

6 + 1 Questions with Yasemin Kaçkar-Demirel


I have a love/hate relationship with social media. I sort of expect that most people do, to some degree. The love part of my own relationship with Instagram comes primarily from my connections with other artists. I’m drawn to the generosity of artists who share the bits and pieces of their studio practices, their successes and their failures, the consistency of their work ethic, and the small glimpses into their day-to-day, non-studio lives. I’m well aware of the ability of the grammable image to deceive or to self-mythologize. Instagram, like all things, has changed since I joined in 2014 and the algorithmic suppression of lower-profile, emerging artists is a major disappointment. That said, I am still thankful enough for the relationships that I’ve been able to maintain over the years, as well as the new, online ones that I’ve been lucky to develop.

 

One such artist who keeps my Instagram adoration afloat is the Hudson Valley-based artist, Yasemin Kaçkar-Demirel.  Although we have never met in person, our work has been included in two physical exhibitions together: "18", a group exhibition of 18 abstract artists at the Janice Charach Gallery in suburban Detroit AND "Painting at Night", organized by Artist/Mother Podcast and juried by my friend (and phenomenal artist) Allison Reimus. I was immediately smitten with Kaçkar-Demirel’s ability to work with a variety of two- and three-dimensional materials (oil paint, embroidery, insulation foam, yarn, etc., etc.) while maintaining her own consistent voice and vision. The irregular, highly specific shapes within her abstractions bring to mind land masses, geographical boundaries and islands. Her work, however, resists many boundaries within traditional painting and incorporates chance as part of her making process. Kaçkar-Demirel often uses found materials and accidental stains, the detritus and residual marks of the painting practice, as a means of reflecting on the mutability of natural and human-made landscapes.

 

In the interview below, Kaçkar-Demirel discusses both Susanna Clarke’s 2020 novel, Piranesi, as well as the novel’s eponym, the 18th century, Italian artist and architect, Giovanni Battista Piranesi. Known for his layered etchings of inescapable, imagined prisons, Pirenesi’s interior worlds border on abstraction. We lose the ability to discern direction. Conventional depictions of reality crumble. In "Two dots or lavender clouds", one of Kaçkar-Demirel’s more frenetic, mixed-media works, I feel immersed in the same sort of disorienting un-reality evoked by Clarke’s novel and Piranesi’s prison etchings. The linear, embroidered paths lead my eye around the surface, diligently mapping both the stains and deliberately applied areas of paint. The tracks seem to weave and retrace their steps, linking explosions of paint, cyanotype prints and areas of camouflaged stitching.  In spite of the crystallographic balance, the elements push centrifugally outward, bending and distorting the edges with their delicate and persistent force.

 

Through July 17, 2024, you can find Kaçkar-Demirel’s work in ‘Scapes, a group show at Elisa Contemporary Art gallery in Riverdale, NY. She will also have work included in Peep Space’s 2024-2025 Flat Files program, with an opening exhibition in Fall 2024. Kaçkar-Demirel will be spending the summer in Bodrum, Turkiye where she will develop and experiment with mixed media works on paper, involving relief structures, blockprints and cyanotypes.

 

Thank you, Yasemin, for your generous and insightful responses and your willingness to share a peek into your studio practice. Here’s to an in-person meeting at some point in the future!🍻

Yasemin Kaçkar-Demirel, Leap island, 2022, fragment of paint palette, insulation foam, modeling compound, acrylic and oil paint, 8 x 9 x 1 1/8 inches



1. What’s your sign? If you are astrologically inclined, feel free to give your Sun/Moon/Rising. Do you identify with the characteristics of your sign(s)?


Both my Sun and Rising sign are Sagittarius. My Moon sign is Aquarius. I do identify with their characteristics in the sense that I consider myself free-spirited and try to avoid getting tangled in possessive relationships or restrictive environments. I have a curious nature, a love for learning new things, and eclectic interests. I enjoy traveling and exploring places, as well as testing materials and taking risks in my studio. While I generally have a joyful and lively disposition, there is also an introverted, introspective side of me that is very emotion and intuition driven. I feel quasi-comfortable within groups or crowds, and definitely prefer more intimate, one on one interactions. I like to think of myself as being quite observant and I enjoy listening rather than talking. I have a highly romantic side too but in a very down-to-earth kind of way.

 

Yasemin Kaçkar-Demirel, Wonder of a ruin, 2024, oil on oil paper, 12x 9 inches

2. What is your morning routine?

I have to say that I do not follow a strict routine. It tends to change frequently especially depending on the season. But a typical morning involves preparing my son for school and after sending him off, I brew some coffee. I briefly check my e-mails and Instagram. I take some time to greet the nature outside of my window. I pick a poetry book from my library and read at random, taking notes of any verses that resonate with me. I also recently began practicing meditation with an online community in real time. After it ends, I step in to my studio which is in the basement of my home. I start by spending some time planning my tasks for the day, and organizing the physical space. I make dance movements and stretch my body. Depending on the season, I incorporate outside walks to my morning-to-noon routine as well.



Yasemin Kaçkar-Demirel, Two dots or lavender clouds, 2022, paint stains and paint residues, hand embroidery, cyanotype on fabric, dye, on found textile

3. Have you ever cried in front of an artwork? If so, what was it?

 

I cannot think of a time that I cried, but I do get chills, teary-eyed or awestruck very frequently when I view artworks. Some specific moments stand out, especially from my youth. The first one might be a cliché for some, but the first ever artwork I remember that astonished me was Michaelangelo’s fresco in The Sistine Chapel. I was in middle school, visiting Italy with my mother. Seeing the figures so masterfully executed on the ceiling had a profound impact on me then. I wanted to reach out to the ‘Hands of God and Adam’. I was drawn to the delicacy, fragility and emotion of the hand gesture. Likewise, seeing the similar effect on the Pietá sculpture, the marble absorbing and projecting the emotion of grief and compassion was equally thrilling. Another memory is when I had visited the archeological site of the ancient city of Ephesus near Izmir, Turkiye. Walking on the marble stones on the site, the statues, the amphitheater, the infamous façade of the library and the promenade of columns have since been feeding my fascination with structural remnants and interest in transformation, bridging the past and the future by making art in the present moment. One last memory I would like to mention was on the very first day I entered my alma mater Mimar Sinan University in Istanbul as an undergraduate student. I was teary-eyed seeing the sunlight shine on the replica of the Hellenistic statue of Niké, known as the Winged Victory of Samothrace.


Yasemin Kaçkar-Demirel, Décollage, 2023, oil and oil stick on linen, 16 x 12 inches

4. What are you reading now? (You can also include what you’ve read lately, as well as what you are listening to, watching, etc.)

 

I am currently reading Piranesi, by Susanne Clarke. I was intrigued by its title because I love Piranesi’s architecture drawings and especially his series of intricate etchings called Carceri (prisons). Hence, I am quite attracted to the novel’s utopic labyrinth like setting, perhaps an island with its layered structure, halls full of statues, water flowing throughout and vestibules. The mysterious plot where new characters emerge through a quest for a ‘distributary’ world, sustains my interest. Before this book, I listened to the audiobook of A Wizard of Earthsea, the first one in a series by Ursula Le Guin, which, similar to Piranesi, followed a character’s quest to attain magic through journeys to various islands. I tend to forget the details of what I read over time, but a quote, a feeling or a description of a setting generally stays with me. Currently, I am also listening to the audiobook of Life with Picasso by Françoise Gilot and Carlton Lake. I find Gilot’s insightful account of their complex relationship with Picasso and conversations about paintings and processes within their circuit of prominent art figures interesting and useful. I have the hard copy as well but since I am a slow reader I gain more momentum by listening to the audiobook.

As for music, I am presently listening to Erlend Oye’s new album La Comitiva, Céu and the new single Like I say (I runaway) by Nilufer Yanya.


5.  Tell us four truths about yourself and one lie:

             

a. I sometimes dance in my head as if I am creating a mental choreography
b. I am left-handed but I recently became aware that I have a better tendency to dribble
basketball and iron with my right hand.          .    
c. When I was in college in Istanbul, I sang ‘It is only a Paper Moon’ at a jazz music festival.    
   
d. I love wall tennis and paddle boarding.           
e. I prefer text messaging or facetiming rather than talking on the phone.

 

Yasemin Kaçkar-Demirel, Autumnal ascend, 2023, yarn and vinyl paint on monk’s cloth, 25 x 20 inches

 

6. This is the wild card question. What do you listen to in the studio? Does what you’re listening to change the way that you make your work?

 

I strongly believe that all I hear, see, listen to or experience have their way of seeping into my work. The music I listen to depends largely on my mood and the kind of mediums and process I am engaged with in the studio. While I cannot say that listening to music changes my work in a concrete and representational way, listening to a variety of genres certainly inspires me to save my paint palettes and paint rags to use them as a source to generate collages, blockprints, sculptures and textile works. Similar to noticing variations of sounds, harmonies, melody and rhythm in music, I regard my painting practice as a conduit of possibilities expanding in tandem with a multitude of mediums. When I am painting with oils, I tend to listen to instrumental music or with minimal lyrics, such as jazz, opera, classical or indie/electronic and ambient music, to cultivate concentration. For this purpose, I prefer rhythmic, improvisational or repetitive tunes.


At other times, I simply prefer the sound of silence, or some tunes intrinsically pop up in my head and I find myself listening to them while painting. When I am making mixed media drawings or collages, I choose songs with lyrics which can be very eclectic, from Brit Pop to Radiohead. When I am doing mostly slower paced or rhythmically repetitive tasks like priming or shaping a sculpture, rughooking or embroidery, I pick podcasts, audiobooks, and talk shows in English and in Turkish on Youtube. Some favorite podcasts are Ariacode, On Being, Poetry Unbound and Sound and Vision.


I also like listening to interpretations of well-known pieces such as Pink Martini’s take on Ravel’s Bolero or Jacques Louissier’s take on Bach suites. Growing up in Istanbul, I acquired an affinity to a wide range of musical genres including nostalgic French and Italian songs, musicals, jazz, and classical music, as well as Turkish music from Alaturka to pop. While listening to music, I feel as though a sound space gets transmitted to my painting. This space releases an atmospheric quality inviting me into a subconscious state similar to the structural cues and traces of places I observed transform and dissolve into what I call a beyond space. I have been thinking about this beyond space lately, where remains of places dissipate, memories wilt, end and begin again, continue as angles, lines, gestures, as a new realm within sea, sky and land. By maneuvering the paint through sound and intuition, I observe the work becoming a welcoming container to what arises. I love this aspect of abstraction in music and in painting coinciding, proposing open-ended directions, sensations and unleashing obscurity for the work.  Aside from sound and rhythm, a lyric or a verse in a song or poem can evoke a feeling that I contemplate which can later end up as a title to a work.

 

7. What other artist(s) would you like to see answer these questions?

 

Sarah Arriagada, Seher Erdogan, Niki Kriese, Ashley Garret, Melissa Capasso.

 


Born in Istanbul in 1978, Kackar-Demirel received her MFA from Northern Illinois University, and her BFA from Mimar Sinan University, Istanbul, Turkiye. She has had solo exhibitions at The Yard: City Hall Park, (NYC), Mooney Center Gallery of The College of New Rochelle, (NY), C.A.M. Gallery, (Istanbul, Turkey), Courthouse Gallery of Lake George Arts Project, (Lake George, NY), and McLean County Arts Center, (Bloomington, IL), including her virtual exhibition with Laura A. Sprague Gallery of Joliet Junior College, (Joliet, IL), among other venues. Her works have been exhibited in group shows across the United States as well as internationally in Turkey, Italy, Israel and including KinoSaito in Verplanck, NY, the High Line Nine Galleries in NYC with Visionary Projects and at Ortega y Gasset Projects in Brooklyn, NY. She attended the residency programs at The Bischhoff Inn in Tamaqua, PA, School Of Visual Arts in NYC and AreaOdeon in Monza, Italy. She is a recipient of Moon and Stars Project’s Exhibition Award. Her work has been featured in various catalogs and periodicals including Friend of the Artist, Dovetail, New American Paintings, New Visionary Magazine and Fresh Paint and was included in the online curated registries of The Drawing Center, All She Makes and in the Flat File 2021 Program at Collar Works. She lives and works in Lower Hudson Valley, New York.

@yaseminkackardemirel
www.yaseminkackar.com

All images courtesy of the artist.

Short Answer Sunday: Katherine Knight

Welcome to Short Answer Sunday , an interview series where I ask artists, art adjacent individuals, and other interesting, creative people t...