Anna Ortiz

Anna Ortiz (born in Worcester MA, currently living in Brooklyn NY) is a painter primarily focused on creating sociopsychological landscapes. Her work reflects on global issues through painterly collapses and constructions. Ortiz received a BA/BFA from Tufts University and the School of the Museum of Fine Arts Boston. During her undergraduate years, she spent a year studying at the Louvre in Paris. Ortiz completed her MFA at Tyler School of Art, spending her second year in Rome Italy. Her work has been exhibited at Proto Gomez, Transmitter, TSA, Partners and Son and Lesley Heller.

Statement:
I have had a long standing interest in landscape painting as a locus for reflecting on current events, my personal history and the potential for narrative in painting. Most recently I have turned to my Mexican heritage as a source for inspiration for a new body of work titled “Dioses de los Pochos.” This series focuses on surreal scenes of invented deities resurrected from ruin. Pochos is a term describing Mexican-Americans who are neither entirely Mexican or American. They may feel disconnected to Mexico but not wholly American either. They live straddling the two cultures, perhaps creating a third in the process. Similarly the deities in the series “Dioses de los Pochos” exist in liminal worlds. Inspired by the archeology of Mesoamerican figures, they come to life in dream like landscapes where they are neither dead nor alive. Out of the ruins of their previous existence, these new gods embrace their ambiguity, existing somewhere between memory and imagination.

Interview with Anna Ortiz

Questions by Andreana Donahue

Can you tell us a bit about your background and where you grew up? In what ways have your early visual experiences and personal history led to art-making?
I grew up in Worcester MA, the daughter of two language professors who emphasized education and travel. My parents didn’t have a lot of money, but we spent summers camping in Canada or flying to Mexico to spend time with my father’s side of the family. My Mexican grandfather made a living as a portrait painter, and one of my aunts is a sculptor. As a kid growing up visiting my grandparent's house I was made acutely aware of how seriously they took their work. Early on, I showed an interest in art, and my whole family encouraged me to pursue it. I was raised to feel I was the next in line in a family of artists.

Where are you currently based and what initially attracted you to working in this community? Are there any aspects of this place that have surfaced in your work?
I currently live and paint in Brooklyn which has one of the greatest community of artists imaginable. I've found that artists here are very approachable and welcome studio visits. With such a large gallery scene it’s easy to meet other artists at openings and shows. People here are so committed to their work, and I think we motivate each other through dialogue and exchange. 

Can you tell us about your studio and what a typical day is like for you? Do you share space or ideas with other artists while working, or is it a more solitary routine?
My studio is in Greenpoint in a really great artist’s building. I work alone, although I share the space with my partner. I don’t have a studio routine or set practice of note, I usually just follow the rhythm of the work. Sometimes when I’m generating new work, I’ll spend days drawing, researching and working out palettes. Other times if I find myself particularly invested in a large painting, I will often work on the painting every day until it is finished. I always try to have something brewing, often starting new paintings before finishing other works. This helps me keep inertia going so I don’t feel stalled or strained in the studio. 

What criteria do you follow for selecting materials? Do you prefer to maintain a narrow focus or work across diverse media? How do you navigate the limitations and possibilities that result from this path?Although I sometimes draw in pencil and markers and even on occasion make a maquette out of plasticine, I have always almost exclusively worked in oil paint.  I have attempted many times to try other materials, acrylics, watercolors, however I always return to oil paint as I find it to be the most seductive and immediate material. 

Can you walk us through your overall process? How would you describe your approach to manipulating materials? What about decision-making and editing?
Through the years, I’ve built up a significant trove of imagery from my travels to Mexico which I rely upon as inspiration for my paintings. I’ll often think of a painting like I’m building a mise en scène; I start with the landscape and the implications of that environment. I consider how that landscape relates to my figures and plant life and how the clouds relate to horizon. The process usually starts with a drawing and then moves on to a series of sketches in paint in order to test the palette and composition. I can be very impatient about this process, always eager to get going on the larger finished work. I often have to hold myself back from rushing into a painting disaster by forcing myself to allow a few days to allow the sketches and palette to sink in. Sometimes during this self-imposed delay, I will lose interest completely and scrap the whole concept. Conversely, on occasion, I’ll get really lucky and will be able to envision the painting in its entirety before any preparation. These moments can yield some of my best pieces, however this is a rarity and normally it’s a struggle to work and rework the imagery and palette. 

Can you talk about some of the ongoing interests, imagery, and concepts that have informed your process and body of work over time? How do you anticipate your work progressing in the future?
Right now I’m very focused on creating a pantheon of invented deities derived from Mexican mythology. My influences include Aztec, Mayan, Zapotec gods and legends. I consider my personal history at the root of this work. As the daughter of a Mexican immigrant and a dual citizen of both the US and Mexico, I’m interested in sharing my affection for Mexico with an American audience. Growing up in the United States with a family divided by strife and mental illness, I unfortunately spent many years estranged from my Mexican heritage. This series of paintings explores the gaps in my “Mexicaness” and a yearning for a life and identity I was unable to claim as my own. This wanderlust for my Mexican heritage feels particularly relevant now in a moment in US history when disparaging immigrants and Mexican culture has become normalized. 

Do you pursue any collaborations, projects, or careers in addition to your studio practice? If so, are there connections between the two?
I’m a union member of local 829, I work as a Scenic Artist, painting sets for TV and film. While my job doesn’t reveal itself in the imagery of my work, it has given me a huge amount of experience in materials and scale. I work with an incredibly talented pool of artists who are constantly teaching me different methods and tools. I love that in the 12 years I have worked as a Scenic, I have continuously learned different ways of faux finishing.

As a result of the pandemic, many artists have experienced limited access to their studios or loss of exhibitions, income, or other opportunities. Has your way of working (or not working) shifted significantly during this time? Are there unexpected insights or particular challenges you’ve experienced?
The pandemic has been a never ending rollercoaster creatively, which at this exact moment feels most like a plateau. At first I was coming to the studio seven days a week, painting as if the virus could take my life any given day. Death felt like a prodding muse. It was a terrifying time to be in New York and coming to the studio often felt like a gamble. In the early days when transmission methods were still unclear, every time you left your house it felt as if you were exposing yourself to the virus. But I couldn't sit at home and let days pass without painting; there was way too much to process. I felt lucky to have the time and materials to stay painting for the first several months. I was able to make a lot of big paintings during that time and felt like my work was moving full steam ahead. Then when George Floyd died and all the energy I had in the studio evaporated. I no longer felt a sense of duty to Painting, instead I felt a civic obligation to protest. My paintings and the fear for the virus quickly became irrelevant, and I joined the millions of protestors in the streets. Since then I have struggled to gain any clarity in the studio and only recently have I begun to think about painting again. Although I feel uncomfortable not painting right now, I think the stream of shocks this year are so much to process that it’s natural to need some time to reflect on life and therefore the work. 

In a time that seems to be marked by uncertainty, collective anxiety, and increasing social unrest, why do you think the perspectives and contributions of artists remain meaningful? Do you feel a natural relationship exists between your work (or the role artists play more broadly) and confronting established systems - of power, cultural institutions, or otherwise?
My work has always intended to reflect on the uncertainty of our current predicament. The 21st century has been defined by multiple, coinciding global crises, from climate change to mass migration to an increase in authoritarianism to extreme wealth and resource hoarding. I think it is essential that art engage in topical and political upheaval. If artists aren’t considering how these crises on the human race are affecting us, then who will? Without some engagement in these issues, artists can easily be reduced to court jesters pandering to the rich. While not all art must be political, I find I am affected most by work that requires viewers to acknowledge these challenges as well as how to contextualize them. The dilemmas we face now will in time have a prevailing narrative as told by artists and historians. Now is the time to get engaged. 

Can you share some of your recent influences? Are there specific works - from visual art, literature, film, or music - that are important to you?
Right now my main influences are the unnamed artists from Mesoamerican cultures that predate colonization. Mostly working in sculpture and figurines, these artists used mythology to grapple with issues like drought, measles, famine and societal collapse. In a year unlike any other, I’m especially looking to these artists to see how their work has transcended time and culture while still maintaining pointed relevance.