The Academy Blog

We have been in Moscow almost a week now and have visited numerous museums, galleries, Russian Orthodox Churches, restaurants, and shops. The culture is so rich, however, I think one could live in Moscow a lifetime and not run out of sights to see. One of my favorite excursions has been walking back to the hotel one evening along the back streets and alleys and down numerous winding narrow roads. The experience felt very European. We were away from the heavy traffic and tourist attractions that Red Square draws, walking home like a local Russian.

Our hotel, Hotel National, is located right in front of Red Square and the Kremlin. Red Square is very striking and strong by day, but at night it is lit up with different colored lights allowing one to feel the magic and mystery of the city.

I have been newly exposed to two Russian artists living during the 19th and 20th centuries that I have marked as my current favourites. I had the privilege of seeing their works at Tretyakov Gallery. These include Filipp Malyavin and Mikhail Vrubel. Their paintings, “Whirlwind,” and “Demon Seated” are among some of the paintings I’ve enjoyed seeing most thus far.

“Whirlwind,” Filipp Malyavin, Tretyakov Gallery, 1906

“Demon Seated,” Mikhail Vrubel, Tretyakov Gallery, 1890

Being inundated with so much new information while suffering from jet lag, I decided that I really needed the last few days to reflect and recharge my batteries in the studio. One of my colleagues kindly let me photograph him to paint. As I was unable to capture his likeness to the extent he deserved I have decided he will remain nameless. For the purpose of these studies his image serves as a vehicle which I have used to process emotions, knowledge and stimulus that have left an imprint on me over the last few days. In the spirit of the two expressive painters to whom I am partial, I too have created a selection of expressive paintings concerned more with the material qualities of the paint and surfaces and less with academic realism.

Untitled, acrylic on paper, 2015

Untitled, acrylic on paper, 2015

Untitled, acrylic on paper, 2015

Over the next several days I plan to venture more into the depths of this Moscow’s history, culture and modern day living and discover the ways it challenges my mind and art.

When it was my turn to write a blog post for the Academy’s blog I thought “Oh boy! I don’t know where to start!” I think I actually went: “Ay Dios!”

Should I begin the week before our flight, when I texted my boyfriend at 2 am and told him on the verge of hyperventilation: “I don’t know if I want to go to China, I am too anxious, I can’t sleep!” Or, a month ago, when I curated the perfect ‘to do’ list with my usual over-planning, wanting to make sure I was 100% ready for China.

Or, the moment Sophia, Taylor, Ben and I were in line at the gate B26, at JFK airport waiting to step into the plane and decided to break the ice by taking the typical (and official) first group ‘selfie’. ‘We are going to China’ said Sophia. It sounded more like: This is it, there is no way back!

I have come to recognize those worrisome moments as life’s sacred mountains waiting to be conquered. It was 2:30 in the morning when I texted back my boyfriend after he tried to calm me down: “Life scares me in a good way. It scares me sometimes to know how you can touch destiny with your own hands.”

In a conference given by the Spanish writer Javier Moro, author of ‘El Sari Rojo’ (The Red Saree), ‘The Adventure of Writing,’ the interviewer introduced the lecture by recalling artists that lived in times when travelling was understood in the full sense of the word. They referred to times when the land was not treated but discovered; times when one would place their ear on the ground to hear its heart beat. A true traveler converted physical journeys into artistic journeys, and artistic journeys into vital journeys leading one to return home changed into a new person. Like life itself, the best part about travelling is the unexpected, when your plans are changed and turned upside down, filling your head with stars, with more questions than answers.

It was already 3 am. The morning before, I had Skyped with my dad. It was Father’s Day and my whole family in Peru was getting ready to go to the cemetery to visit my grandpa. My dad advised me: “You are in the party, now dance!”

I finally fell asleep.

We were making our way through the line at the gate. I took my phone before our signal would get cut. I thanked life for that moment and typed:

Que empieze la fiesta!
#XieXie
SEND(END)

Hey everyone! I’m not too keen on blogging in general, but Italy was awesome, and I’d like to share the carving process with you.

A common first step in sculpture is the creation of a model to work from.

In this case I shaped the clay from memory. This is a skill I learned from the amazing instructors at NYAA, a technique I’m still battling to become fluent with.

Once the clay has been modeled satisfactorily I drape wet fabric over it, the way you would if you wanted to keep the clay wet. Only instead I let it dry out to harden the fabric.

 

Once the initial cuts have been made the basic shape is visible. I continue roughing the stone out by finding major landmarks with the pointing machine.

At this point I move between taking points and carving from direct observation, making edits and corrections until I feel that it conveys my original intention.

I’m so grateful for another wonderful time spent in Carrara.

Is this real life?

Trying to describe this residency is like trying to describe a dream that was so amazing you can’t find the words. Since I arrived in the Dominican Republic I have been painting, exploring, and just trying to find ways to hold on to this experience forever. Andres and I are staying in a village called Altos de Chavon, located on top of the Chavon River in La Romana.

A painting in progress of the Chavon River

Conceived by Roberto Copa a former Paramount Pictures set designer in 1976, it is the most popular attraction in the city. So far our time here has mainly been spent meeting all the great people here and taking in all the history of the town.

A picture I took of The Church of St Stanislaus on my first night in town

Narrow cobblestone alleyway with the moon up above.

On the river, looking up at the town.

Exploring with some of our students.

Getting ready for one of our amazing lunches!

The students here are amazing people and artists! They have so much interest in art, showing us their favorite places to find inspiration.

One of my favorite things about this place is how time just seems to come to a halt. Nothing is a rush here, people like to stay relaxed and just take it slow. After living in New York for two years I have almost forgotten how to do this. I cant wait to see what the rest of this residency brings and hope it never ends.

When I first came to the New York Academy of Art, one of the things I was most excited about was having my own studio. For the first time, I had a little space where I could work and display all the stuff I made during my first year at school. Having that studio made me feel professional – I woke up in the morning with a sense of responsibility and discipline. But as the year came to an end, with finals safely behind me, I got itchy feet. After all, sudden instances of wanderlust are a part of my personality. So as cozy as my studio may have been, I knew it was time to move on – but not before doing a memorial sketch of my beloved workspace.

And so, to my good fortune, I was given the chance to travel to Mexico City this summer. One month of near-complete freedom in one of the cultural capitals of the world. I am a fairly experienced traveler, but I’d never done something quite like this. But an adventure is an adventure, so I threw my sketchbook and easel in my backpack, and headed south of the border.

My first impression of the city, as my host Stephen Henderson predicted, was “overwhelming.” The dense crowds, noise, and even the smells topped even Canal Street back in NYC. But as I got acclimated, I got the courage to go out and explore – sketchbook in hand. And thus, Mexico City became my new studio.

For the first 10 days I didn’t wander very far from the Centro Historico – the neighborhood I’m staying in. In fact, I estimate I was rarely more than a mile from my apartment. Fortunately, I really didn’t need to go much further than that. The Centro Historico is packed with museums, restaurants, churches, and monuments. Every turn yields a surprise. For the compulsive sketchbook-keeper, there is almost too much to draw, but the subjects around here almost seem to choose you.

Working onsite here is an experience as unique as the city itself. In a way, you become a part of the street life – the shoe-shiners, buskers, beggars, cops, and pedestrians. But with my bulky easel and giant backpack, I attract quite a bit of attention from passers-by. I probably spoke to 50 different people (in my very broken Spanish) while doing a sketch of the Metropolitan Cathedral. Many more came by to look over my shoulder as I worked (in my characteristic cramped, fussy, and overworked style). Observing the Cathedral, on the north side of the big city square, over a period of several days was fascinating. I saw military marches, protests, kite-fliers, and local sanitation workers napping in the shade of the giant flagpole. Perhaps my small sketch doesn’t quite capture all that excitement, but at least I have the memory of that space preserved in a drawing.

I have also started a sketch of the church behind the Plaza Loretto – a small park next to my apartment building. I have more solitude on the rooftop, although the local kids often come up to visit me as I work. But this sketch, as well as many others I have done so far, has been a challenge due to the weather. The days are sunny for the most part, but thunderstorms come along almost every day during the rainy season in Mexico. The light in my painting is perfect at noon on a clear day, but clouds on the horizon mean I need to be ready to pack up my easel at a moment’s notice.

But despite the sunburn and tricky weather patterns, every second I get to work from life down here is priceless. Those little moments, preserved in my sketchbook, tell the story of my travels in Mexico City, a story that is still unfolding. And with 15 days left before I have to go back home, there are plenty of new places to explore in my studio.