Gently, Dreamily, Down the Stream of Eve's Nostalgia

August 23, 2022

There I am, my suppressed child-self. My eyes are closed. I can depict the imagery of youth. As I imagine, I can feel grass scratching the skin of my exposed ankles and the mosquito bites decorating my calves. I can see a bright sun and its last sheds of extended daylight saving. There are clouds, and there are laughs, and I have an aftertaste of fruit rollups on my tongue. There's a wrenched Caprisun withering on the ground. Then, I open my eyes. I am an adult. I have matured in many ways yet my brain clutters with the fogginess of nostalgia. Hues of yellow and blue fill my consciousness, and I am filled with warmth from the inner child that sits within me.

Do you know what that feels like? Does this happen to you? Eve, an artist from Vancouver and Rhode Island, knows of this experience. As a painter, she cherishes it—harvests it. Eve uses it as the centerfold of her work. The heavy streams of nostalgia and childhood are river flows into Eve's canvasses.

Text by JoliAmour DuBose-Morris
Photos courtesy of Eve

When we get older, we all experience this 'pick me' phase of betraying our younger selves for the licensed maturity and respect of adulthood. We forsake our senses, sensations, and wildest imaginations for a seat at some stupid grown-up table. By the time we've reconciled with our inner child, the memory of those times leaves us joyfully melancholic. It's difficult to actualize that feeling, and Eve does so gracefully. With ease, her drawings, sculptings, and oil paintings fractionalize the motifs of home, comfort, joy, and imagination. Through the usage of furniture, open windows, and childlike beings, Eve builds on those ideals and meanings. Anyone who views her work takes something home to think about. Eve's creations are the goody bags that we needed.

In an office interview, Eve discusses the Studio Ghibli influence, a how-to tutorial for drawing on Procreate, and the relationship she has built with her inner child.

What forms of media influence your art?

I watched a lot of Teletoon Retro growing up, and while it never seemed to influence my work until recently, I've carried a deep appreciation for its fluidity. The movement and designs of each characters are an inspiration that I use to convey more fluidity in my own work. I also loved watching anime in middle school—still do—and I am inspired by the vibrancy of the landscapes that can be found in slice of life and shonen anime like, 'One Piece.' I think in terms of direct reference, I'm inspired by maximalist aesthetics that can be found in a lot of Ghibli films like "The Secret World of Arrietty," "Spirited Away," and "Howl's Moving Castle." I actually have that image of Howl in his bedroom as my laptop screen. Other beautiful shows and films that I derive inspiration from include "Tatami Galaxy," "Houseki no Kuni," and "The Handmaiden."

How would you describe your art in three words?

Nostalgic, glassy, and dreamlike.

When did your love of art begin?

A very common answer, but I think I've always been interested in drawing. For as long as I can remember, I've always enjoyed it. Growing up, I kept to myself frequently which meant most of my time was spent drawing and participating in arts and crafts. While I always enjoyed art, I think I started taking art more seriously around when I was 15 years old. That's when I decided I wanted to pursue it as a career rather than a hobby.

What is it about light pastel colors that you enjoy?

I think my gravitation towards light colors stems from a desire to chase a feeling of nostalgia. I often view memory as submerged in light, and wish to convey that fogginess and light through my work. Similar to a filter. I do want to experiment with darker palettes though, so I expect my work to undergo many transformations in terms of overall contrast and color.

Who are the artists you're inspired by?

I've been a big fan of James Jean for a long time. I adore the fluidity of his line work along with his inclusive color palettes. Recently, I've been interested in objects and glasslike materials in intricate compositions and have been looking to old manuscripts, art nouveau, graphic designers, 3D artists, and ukiyo-e paintings as inspiration. There are a variety of artists that inspire me but immediately I think of Edmund Dulac, Shahzia Sikander, and Kenshi Ozaki.

Eve's work is a product of intention. As shown in her virgin black and white samples, the usage of her pencils creates lines and shapes with so much divisive detail. The process of turning her work into the colorful pieces representative in her portfolio takes precision, attention, and imagination. Eve's perception and thought process is saturated with creativity and her technical skills are the artistic cherry on the top. She takes her time on her work. This artist builds on the chosen colors, and no piece of hers goes unfinished without evoking the need for emotion.

In many of your pieces, the motifs of furtniture are often utilized. What is the purpose behind these depictions?

I used to work exclusively with the human figure as the main subject, but after speaking with fellow artists working with objects as symbolic references, I began taking interest in objects as primary subject matter. I am very interested in furtniture that gives off feelings of home and comfort, as well as objects that feel fragile and intricate, hence my interest in glass and lattice structures.

You've done sculpting, oil painting and drawing— what's your favorite art form?

I really enjoy all of these mediums very much. I hope to continue working with them in the near future. I am currently most interested in drawing, as I am able to achieve a lot of intricacies even within a small surface area. Most of my drawings don't exceed 9x12", but because of this, I can explore many compositions and concepts in smaller amounts of time. Especially, without losing detail. This fast-paced tone has been incredibly helpful in my style exploration.

What is the process of turning your black and white sketches into it's full colorful works of art? How do you choose which colors to use?

I use mechanical pencils on sketchbook paper to create the base drawing, and then scan or photograph my sketches. From there, I import my images into Procreate and use the direct selection tool to lasso out areas of the drawing and use the gradient maps tool to color. Procreate has a few default options but I usually make my own or tinker with pre-existing ones. I usually have a very vague idea about the general atmosphere of the drawing and use a gradient map to tinge the entirety of the drawing to that color. Then, I pick out certain objects that I have an idea of a color for. I never really know what a drawing will look like until I'm finished with the color picking so, it is a process of trial and error. From there, I paint on top of the drawing, or play with layer blending modes and other settings like bloom, gaussian blur, or noise until I'm satisfied with the results.

There are so many child characters throughout your work. How does childhood and child fun enhance your work? Would you ever use motifs of adulthood?

Indeed! I think when I depict childlike figures, I really am harkening back to a younger version of myself, and in doing so, I feel like I am able to work out some of the knots and tribulations of my child self. I consider my work to be very highly encoded, and I strive for many pieces to instill calmness, or a sense of peaceful melancholy. I've been playing with the concept of authority figures and higher powers in my work, and enjoy the idea of a figure that is much wiser than my current and child self. I'm unsure of what an adulthood motif would entail, but I would like to expand my visual vocabulary to possibly more mature themes. Ultimately, I hope to preserve a sense of dreamscape and childlike whimsy in my work— at least for the time being.

Art

Pamela Sneed’s Speaking Tongue opens at Dashwood Projects

November 15, 2024

Pamela Sneed’s latest exhibition, Speaking Tongue, will be on view at Dashwood Projects from November 20 to December 21. The show features twenty watercolor and ink paintings inspired by her recent trip to Kenya, where she was deeply moved by the elegance of giraffes, the landscapes, and the energy of Nairobi.

Blending her background as a poet and visual artist, Sneed’s work reflects on themes of identity, nature, and connection. Her paintings capture the beauty and spirit of the animals she encountered, alongside reflections on her own experiences as part of the African diaspora.

This exhibition marks Sneed’s first solo show with Dashwood Projects and will be accompanied by a new book, also titled Speaking Tongue, to be released in December.

By Enzo Holdt
Artworks by Pamela Sneed

Art

Tiebreaker - Alvin Armstrong

November 15, 2024

There is a moment of silence right before the play. Just before the racket strikes the ball as it hangs weightless in the air, breathless and charged. It’s the fleeting yet decisive instant that can alter the course of the match, determining who wins and who loses.

Alvin Armstrong depicts this crucial moment in his new exhibition Tiebreaker, symbolizing the risks and rewards of competition. It’s an implication of something else at stake, where athletes push not only their bodies, but their spirits to the absolute limit.

The dynamic figures embody the strength, grace, and agility juxtaposed by the vibrant color palette evoking not just the joy of competition but the charged energy of the court.

Tiebreaker is opening Thursday, November 16th at Anna Zorina Gallery.

By Rea Brayshaw
Artworks by Alvin Armstrong

Art

The Things People Are Ashamed To Take Photos Of: The Photography and Films of Yuhan Cheng

Yuhan’s latest exhibition of photo and video work titled 窗子外 Outside the Window, Inside the Tank 鱼缸里 takes its namesake from what could’ve been a mundane encounter. A month after moving to New York City from Chengdu, China, they stumbled across an abandoned fish tank left curbside. It reminded them of “the rotating fish in a tank that faded into the background of their mother’s home in Chengdu”, a thread connecting childhood familiarity that transformed into a symbol of greater significance in adulthood. A tank is a world within a world; a microcosm secluded from the broader chaos of the outside. Since then Yuhan has captured the other kinds of “fish tanks” closest to them in their photography and short films. Not literal ones necessarily– but intimate confined spaces in Chengdu and NYC where time stands still.

In the midst of taking snapshots of loved ones, Yuhan decided to turn their tender but examining lens on themselves. They realized shooting self-portraits unraveled a deeper understanding of their own nonbinary gender and queer sexuality. Yuhan admits in one of their short films “I hide from looking at my own body.” Yet, in the seclusion of their room which doubles as a dark room, Yuhan began to develop their first nude photos chronicling the subtle wounds; bitten cuticles, bruises, and scrapes they’ve accumulated involuntarily, once again documenting the things people choose to hide.

窗子外 Outside the Window, Inside the Tank 鱼缸里, debuted at FAR-NEAR Studio Hours a gallery in Chinatown focused on expanding the art world's view of Asia and Asian artists curated by Lulu Yao Gioiello. The event merged Yuhan’s works from the past three years, including 70 photographs, three short documentaries, and one installation. There was something uncanny about the gallery’s atmosphere – from the dollar store teal green curtains obscuring every window to the clusters of framed photos mimicking how photos of relatives are displayed in one’s childhood home, to the darkened lighting that was both disorienting and cozy. All these details were meticulously chosen to imitate the rooms depicted in Yuhan’s films and photography. In other words, the audience was invited to Yuhan’s “fishtank”, to share the odd balance of comfort and unease of being known intimately. We talked to Yuhan at Cafe Reggio to understand how their latest body of work came into being.

Initially, I was exploring my friends’ identities through the lens, but slowly, it became a tool to confront and understand my own queerness and gender identity.

Ora Margolis— Were any memories/childhood experiences you had in Chengdu important to how you've developed as an artist?

Yuhan Cheng— Growing up in Chengdu, especially in a military household, shaped and gave me a source of contention how I understood my identity. There was always a sense of conflict when it came to my body and feeling like I didn’t quite fit the expectations around me. This tension has been a driving force in my practice, pushing me to explore identity and belonging in my work.

Tell us a bit about your latest exhibition Outside the Window, Inside the Tank at Far. What headspace were you in when taking these photos?

YC— Outside the Window, Inside the Tank is about the fluidity of self; our bodies, our environments, and our identities. The idea of water as both a symbol of confinement and freedom is central to the photos and film that comprise the exhibit. This fluidity much like how I see my experience moving between Chengdu and New York, where similar feelings follow me no matter where I am. Water mirrors the body, the frame, and the room, which are all containers of the self.

Previously, you’ve said you wanted the exhibition space to look "like your room". How did you make that happen and why is your NYC room important to you?

YC— My room in NYC is an extension of my identity. It’s where I feel vulnerable and where I explore myself most openly. It’s a manifestation of my sense of self. I recreated certain elements in the exhibition—the green sheer curtains, the dollar store shower curtain with bubbles, and the center installation depicted a self-portrait deteriorating in water, reminiscent of a fish in a tank. This room, like any other room or container, magnifies the tension of self-exploration.

Has your idea or comfort with your gender identity and /sexuality changed since you’ve delved into photography?

YC— Yes. The process of photography and filming has been a mirror to my own understanding of self. Initially, I was exploring my friends’ identities through the lens, but slowly, it became a tool to confront and understand my own queerness and gender identity. The process of photographing my queer friends and then myself allowed me to come to terms with who I am.

How did you and Lulu Yao of FAR-NEAR Studio meet, and what makes her a good collaborator?

YC— We first connected when I reached out with my series Princess of Funan River. Lulu understood the struggles and complexities in the work and she invited me to expand on those ideas with her. Our collaboration has worked because Lulu truly resonates with the themes I’m drawn to, like fluidity, transformation, and the intimacy of navigating belonging.

After completing Fish Tank and Remnants of an Amateur Film, what kind of movie do you want to make next?

YC— Right now, I’m more focused on writing. I need to understand what I want to say before making another film. Writing helps me find clarity;it’s a crucial part of my process.

What kind of camera do you use and why?

YC— I use a Canon AE-1. I started with it and I still love it. It's small, spontaneous, easy to use, and light. It allows me to capture moments naturally without overthinking.

What's your biggest fear?

YC— Being disconnected from my sense of self, from others, and from the things I love.

When do you feel most like yourself?

YC— It’s during those fleeting moments when I complete a project. That feeling fades quickly, leaving me searching for the next project to reconnect with that sense of fulfillment.

How do you want people to feel when they interact with your art?

YC— I want them to feel whatever resonates with them. I don’t want to prescribe the experience; it should feel right for each person.

Your work focuses on the close knit communities that surround you or various metaphorical “fish tanks”. What communities do you feel closest to?
YC— The queer artist community, both in Chengdu and NYC, has been a source of comfort and understanding for me. There’s something about shared struggles and shared creative language that feels like home.

What's the biggest difference between living life as a queer artist in NYC and in Chengdu?

YC— In both NYC and Chengdu, I’m learning more about myself. NYC offers a sense of freedom, while Chengdu is home, a place of comfort and history. Neither place defines me but both are significant parts of my path.

What are your next moves/goals?

YC— I want to continue exploring both film and photography, expanding my narrative style and experimenting across mediums. During my show, I found new ways of seeing my photographs such as by adding a window screen between frames or letting a self-portrait fade and grow mold in water. These approaches allowed me to see my work not just as 2D images but as 3D objects.

I want to keep pushing the boundaries of how photo and film can interact, and I’m also interested in trying photojournalism. My focus remains on collaborating across mediums and continuing to accumulate experiences that I can translate into sincere honest work.