Two Ontario visual artists describe the value of a life in art

Two

 

Ontario

 

visual

 

artists

 

describe

 

the

 

value

 

of

 

a

 

life

 

in

 

art

To be creative is to see the world on two levels, or as author and essayist Anaïs Nin said, “We write to taste life twice; in the moment and in retrospect.” It’s the retrospective look at life that transforms into art – whether painting, performance, spoken, or written. I engaged two Ontario artists in a conversation about what compelled them to pursue a creative life, what painting and making art brings to their life, and what it means to share their work with others. Knowing a little about the sometimes quirky, sometimes volatile, always joyful practice of creativity, I welcomed a few moments of connection with two like-minded souls.

Susan Gosevitz is an award-winning artist based in Toronto and Muskoka. She is a member of the Ontario Society of Artists, the Society of Canadian Artists, and Artists for Conservation. Her work reflects calming scenes of nature – Muskoka landscapes, rivers and lakes, or wildlife – that provide the viewer a moment away from the chaos of everyday life.

Natalie Wood is a Toronto-based, Trinidad-born multi-media visual artist, curator, educator, and social innovation specialist. Her work shows a commitment to the stories of marginalized communities, a reflection of her queer and Black identities.

TVO: How did art come into your life?

Susan Gosevitz: Through my father. He was an incredible talent. Anyone of his paintings could hang in a gallery anywhere; he was that good. I asked him a lot of questions. I grew up in Burlington, and my high school art teacher was Robert Bateman. And he also taught geography. His influence seeped into my subconscious, and I grew to love—and paint-—landscapes, hills. I joined the art club. Little did I know what was inside of me.

Natalie Wood: My earliest memories of art are from when I was seven or eight. I would draw in math books with grid patterns. I would draw square faces within the grid. I remember doing it deliberately. From there my parents started buying me supplies I could use at home.

TVO: When did you think it would become a career/vocation?

Susan: In 2004, I enrolled in the Toronto School of Art, with no expectations. I wanted to be more familiar with the business of art and to familiarize myself with new artists and materials. It gave me the confidence I needed to finally devote myself to art.

Then in 2010, I was accepted into the Society of Canadian Artists. My art life started to take off after that. From where I sit now, I never, ever, took a course or graduated from art school with any expectation to being recognized by peers. It’s more important to pursue excellence. Along the way I did get awards and sold some pieces but I’m still in pursuit of excellence.

Natalie: I come from Trinidad and my parents at the time didn’t believe in art as a profession. They thought it should be a hobby. When I came here to do my degree at the University of Toronto, I didn’t take art. I took psychology and sociology. Once I finished my degree, I started going to the Ontario College of Art. It wasn’t a university at the time. I was quite fed up with Eurocentric attitudes that saw my people in an inferior light. Whatever we did was not good enough, or wrong. When I went to OCAD I took studio courses. For me, art has always been part of my life. I do agree with what Black writers such as Marlene NourbeSe Philip believe —that art can help liberate how people see themselves. We rely a lot on our creatives to help us navigate some of the pain and help us find a pathway. Art was always part of my life. It’s a profession and a career, but it goes beyond. I see the way I live as an art practice. Even when I’m at George Brown and I’m teaching social innovation for social change. I help people work with their creative strengths to find a way to make the world a better place.

TVO: What does creative practice bring into your life?

Susan: Life—especially during the pandemic—affects an artist’s creativity and you can’t force creativity. I paint in blocks of time. If I’m starting a painting, every spare moment, everything outside of eating and sleeping, I’m in the studio. And I’m uninterrupted by life. When I’m painting, I’m lost in my own internal world, constantly having a dialogue with myself in my head. It’s a mental workout. It’s like doing a math puzzle. But it’s instinctive so it creates a calm in me.

It’s a way of expressing myself —a voice that I often don’t have the opportunity to express in any other arena. It’s a compulsion. I’m internally motivated to create the work.

It’s

 

a

 

way

 

of

 

expressing

 

myself

 

—a

 

voice

 

that

 

I

 

often

 

don’t

 

have

 

the

 

opportunity

 

to

 

express

 

in

 

any

 

other

 

arena.

 

It’s

 

a

 

compulsion.

 

I’m

 

internally

 

motivated

 

to

 

create

 

the

 

work.

Natalie: It’s a way of expressing myself —a voice that I often don’t have the opportunity to express in any other arena. It’s a compulsion. I’m internally motivated to create the work. I cannot stop myself from dreaming up ways to express feelings. I sometimes experience it as a challenge; I can’t always find the time. My daughter’s 13, so now we have a little more time. When she was younger, I couldn’t do painting, I could only do video. I thought I wasn’t doing anything. I wasn’t putting it out there. But I was always doing something. One of my artist friends would say, “Just make the art, just make it and all else will fall into line.” Now that I have more free time, I can engage with people and I’m now looking at ways to come back into the art community. But yes, art helps me understand who I am in this world and how that connects with others.

TVO: Do you turn to art more often in difficult times?

Susan: Yes. There’s a separation between outside influences when you are one-on-one with a work of art in process. You tune into what you’re creating but everything else is on the periphery. There are boundaries in place that say, “do not cross.”

TVO: Susan, your artist statement on your website reads, “I see art as a collaboration with nature. Together we create the real and sublime in one, providing a return from hectic and stress, from consumption and chaos to meditative simplicity.” How does art do that?

Susan: The world around us can be chaotic —environmentally, politically, all these things. When I first had to articulate what my art was about, I thought about how people feel when they connect with nature, walk through the woods, or when a child is taught the difference between an oak leaf and a maple leaf. When you start paying attention to nature, it’s calming and healing. There’s science that proves if someone in a hospital looks at greenery out of their window, they will heal faster.

TVO: Natalie, I read this in your artist statement: “I am particularly interested in the counter-narratives, experiences and forms of resistance.” What does it mean to you to share the message of your art?

Natalie: It’s a way of liberating, expressing emotion, connecting with community, debunking stereotypical myths. I feel that my art plays that role. As an immigrant artist, the kind of art I do comes from a place where, as a Black lesbian growing up in Trinidad, my stories were not celebrated. I felt oppression from there because of being queer, from here because of being Black. I try to make sure that my art connects with themes of liberation and freedom and not so much revealing the pain of it, but the truth behind the pain.

TVO: Please finish this sentence: Without art in my life …

Susan: Without art in my life, I’d be empty.

Natalie: Without art in my life, I wouldn’t be me. It’s so much a part of me, how I move in the world, how I live, who my community is, who my friends are, and the work that I do.