Theresa Bloise

Received her BFA from the Rhode Island School of Design where she studied for a year in Rome as part of RISD’s European Honors Program. I recently completed a large scale immersive painting installation for the Wassiac Project’s “Vagabond Time Killers” exhibition. Her work has also been exhibited at the Bronx Museum of the Arts, Smack Mellon, Kentler International Drawing Space, PS122 Gallery and Governors Island. She has been awarded residencies at the MacDowell Colony, the Lower East Side Printshop, the Vermont Studio Center, the Wassaic Project, and the Bronx Museum. In 2010 she received a New York Foundation for the Arts Painting Fellowship.

Statement
I make metaphysical landscape paintings that combine an expansive array of visual material. My subject matter ranges from massive geological features to tiny specimens of human detritus. My paintings bring this disparate visual material together in defiance of the laws of physics by playing on scale, spacial relationships and the combination of natural with synthetic. The imagery in my submitted work sample was drawn from Italo Calvino’s fantastical Cosmicomics and scientific theories on how our moon was formed. To make these works I collected small stones and rocks, arranged them in my studio and used theatrical lighting. I took photos of these set ups that I used as reference for the paintings. Each painting was made with a combination of techniques; from traditional painting with brushes, stenciling and airbrushing, to gold and silver leafing. My intention was to create a body of work that could be read as both still life and landscape: microscopic and monumental, primordial and apocalyptic.

Interview with Theresa Bloise 

Questions by Andreana Donahue

Hi Theresa. How has your experience growing up in Boston contributed to the ideas that inform your work? When did you first identify as an artist?
If anything, my work has little in common with my suburban New England upbringing. I wasn’t exposed to the type of landscape imagery that I am drawn to now at a young age. I think having to seek it out as an adult, gives me an appreciation and perspective where I take nothing for granted.

My family was always very supportive of my artistic pursuits. I remember making a painting of a parrot when I was in second grade. My art teacher and family really adored it. I loved how that felt. I can’t think of a time after that when I ever considered doing anything other than painting.

You’re currently based in Brooklyn. Were there any significant shifts in the focus of your work after relocating to New York? How has your body of work developed over time and how do you anticipate it progressing in the future?
My work has gone through some pretty drastic shifts over the years, but exploring new ideas is what keeps me motivated and interested. 

One constant has been my interest in landscapes, which began with an independent study in Rome during my junior year at RISD. My work at that time focused on seeking out and drawing archeological sites. I became fascinated by the relationship between human history and the environment. 

When I first moved to New York, I made large-scale, semi-abstract oil paintings inspired by the city architecture. They were immersive and disorienting and meant to convey a sense of the awe I was feeling about the city.

Those paintings eventually morphed into a series of watercolors in which I relied on internet images of space and ocean debris as subjects. It was during this phase, that I started collecting small pieces of litter; bits of glass or plastic, pebbles and other objects I’d find on the street. I started arranging them in the studio, photographing them and then working them into my compositions. In these paintings, I started playing around with scale, spacial relationships and combining the natural with the synthetic. These were the beginnings of what I am doing now.

The practice of collecting and arranging objects continues in my current work but the objects are completely transformed to look like moons and mountains. Lately, I have been pairing my paintings with small painted sculptures I make with found objects. I am interested to see where this goes in the future. 

A few years ago you camped for two and a half months while traveling cross country with your dog Betty. Can you talk about your approach to painting outside and how the time spent working in these landscapes still impacts your practice?
Yes!  So much of what my work is about right now stemmed from this trip. I decided to go because the arrangements I was setting up in my studio were looking like landscapes. I have lived on the East coast almost all of my life so real, experienced inspiration from landscapes had been very limited. I essentially drove straight through to Colorado, looped around to Wyoming, Montana, Idaho, Utah, Nevada, California and New Mexico. 

Not only did I come home with a treasure trove of reference material, photos and new objects of inspiration, but the experience of painting on the road had some unexpected benefits. My traveling studio was usually a campground picnic table and whatever supplies fit in a couple of small boxes. I was living out of my car and didn't have access to the full set of tools I have at my studio in Brooklyn. In addition, there were so many other factors that came into play: weather, changing light and general distractions like a fear of a bear sneak attack. It forced me to find new ways of painting and be more improvisational. To this day, I am still exploring ideas and ways of working that started on this trip.

Over the past decade, you’ve spent time at several artist residencies including Wassaic, the MacDowell Colony, and Vermont Studio Center. Is there a residency experience that has particularly resonated with you or been most beneficial to your development?
MacDowell Colony was the first residency I ever did and it was every bit as luxurious as it is hyped to be. But, I was insecure at the time and probably didn’t have the confidence in myself to use that experience to its maximum potential. My more recent experiences at the Lower East Printshop Key Holder Residency and the Wassaic Project have had a greater impact on my development but in completely different ways. 

Before my time at The Printshop, I had been using oil and watercolors in very traditional ways. I gave up my regular studio and completely dedicated my time there to play with all of the new tools and materials printmaking has to offer. I spent my time exploring new methods of making a particular painting and using different materials to do it.  My work after this residency was a little in-cohesive because I was playing around so much. But I am glad I took that time to experiment because so much of what I am excited about in my painting now originated from my time at The Printshop—it really turned my whole painting process on its head.

The Wassaic Project was just what I needed at exactly the right time. I was just getting over a devastating breakup and something in my work was starting to crystalize. It really felt like the beginning of something new and it was great to have two months to figure out what that was going to be. The best part of the Wassaic Project was that it turned out to be more than just a residency.  While I was there, I had an idea for my first site-specific painting installation. They accepted my proposal and “Boulder” became part of their Summer Exhibition “Vagabond Time Killers”. Wassaic is also a wonderful community of people. I have met and continue to meet so many amazing artists through all the Wassaic Project events.

Can you talk in more depth about your overall process? How much of your work is planned out and how much is experimental?
Ideas for paintings are usually sparked from something I see or read. I’ll recreate that idea in my studio; this almost always involves my rock collection, playing around with light and using color gels. I take pictures of my little installations and bring those into photoshop. From there, I’ll compose a sketch that I’ll use to paint from.

While my compositions are well planned out, how I make a painting is fairly improvisational. This involves experimentation with spraying, pouring, masking and stenciling as well as playing with different materials.

You often use acrylic, mica flakes, and gold or silver leaf. Why are you drawn to working with these particular materials? 
I’ve started working primarily in acrylic, after my road trip. It just wasn’t realistic to be oil painting while I was traveling. I became a convert though. There are so many more color options and more possibilities for how the paint can be handled.

I do like incorporating alternative materials into paintings when it makes sense, but I try to be strategic about it. Sometimes I try to be subtle so that only someone who views the painting closely gets that element of surprise. Other times the material is the star and the painting is made around it. I have made a few paintings with gold and silver leaf. I love how the look of it changes depending on the light and ambient color of the room; it also has a weight to it that sets it apart from the rest of the painting.

How do you determine whether specific works will be realized on paper or canvas?
I have been iterating on the same types of imagery lately. Paper is great for this because it feels more casual and I am more comfortable taking a chance on doing something that may not work out in the end. I don’t like to start working on canvas until after I’m confident that I’ve locked into something on paper. But canvas is also more realistic for large-scale projects.

What is your relationship with drawing? Do you see your collages as studies or stand-alone works?
I really wish I still made drawings. I used to love keeping a sketchbook and drawing all the time. When I started comping up ideas in photoshop, it was so expedient that it just replaced the time I used to take to draw. It’s not nearly as fun and gratifying though. I also don’t see the photoshop collages as anything special and I am always a little embarrassed to show them to people. They are usually really rough. Next time I take a road trip one of my goals is to spend more time drawing outside. 

Some of your works, particularly those like Close to the Terminating Line and Umbrella Moon, bring to mind Vija Celmins’ depictions of the moon, night sky, and desert floor. Can you talk about your ongoing interest in the moon, and representations of natural phenomena more broadly? What sort of source imagery are you usually working from?
I became interested in making the Moon Paintings after reading a book about the geological history of Earth. The chapter on the prevailing theory of how the moon was formed is really wild. The part that I latched onto is that the moon is slowly moving away from us and 4 Billion years ago the moon was so close to the earth that it would have appeared 15 times larger in the sky than it does now. This reminded me of a short story I read in college by Italo Calvino “The Distance of the Moon”. In it, Calvino takes this sublime theory about the moon and interweaves it with an intimate tale of love. Imagining these two worlds together in my mind as the story unfolded was transformative for me. 

Mixing worlds of disparate scales is something I often try to do in my work. For example, the “moon” in all of my paintings is painted from the same small rock. It is less than an inch in diameter. Most of my mountain paintings are based on rocks set up in my studio too.

A terminator is a moving line that divides the daylight side and the night side of a planetary body. From a distance, surface features, like on the moon for example, along this line can be seen most clearly because the shadows are long and exaggerated.

I got the idea for the terminator line paintings walking one morning at the Vermont Studio Center. I had taken photos of some small pebbles on the sidewalk just as the sun was coming up. They were casting really long shadows that made them look monumental. In these terminator paintings, I mean to capture small yet magical visual phenomena created by the planetary movements of the Earth’s rotation.

In what ways have the traditions of landscape and still life painting influenced your work?
Whenever I visit museums I am always drawn to landscapes no matter the genre. The most obvious influence from landscape traditions would be in the depiction of the sublime. The way that I play with this idea is to have the imagery live in a slippery zone that flips back and forth between landscape and still life. For example, my painting Drippy Mountain looks like a big creamsicle colored mountain but then I made some small sculptures that I placed in front of it from pieces of concrete I found. They are painted to look like the mountain which causes the scale relationship to flip back and forth between the painting and the sculptures.

You’re currently experimenting with installation scenarios for paintings, which “involves making small sculptures, the use of theatrical lighting and pairings with found home decor materials.” Can you share more about this direction your work has taken? Do you consider these installations to be self-contained or are they sometimes site-specific?
I have been exploring both the site-specific and self-contained approaches. My very first installation was for the Wassaic Project Summer Show in an old mill building. It was the building itself that made me want to try to make something site-specific. This space had so much character that I felt like making a painting that worked with the space would have a bigger impact instead of trying to fight with it. There was no built-in lighting so I was able to really consider the lighting on that piece as well.

It’s great to have an opportunity to make something site-specific but as I am making work in the studio I find I can create the same effect by pairing the paintings with sculptures or objects. Drippy Mountain, the painting I discussed above is a good example of an installation work that is more self-contained.

Can you tell us about the concept behind your Nocturnes: Paintings for a Dark Room installation at Sunny’s in Red Hook?
My friend and painter Erin Treacy is one of the artists who organize the shows at Sunny’s. I was instantly excited when she asked me to do the show there. I was familiar with the space and I knew that it was going to be a low lighting situation. This is not what you would conventionally think to be good circumstances for viewing a painting.

I am really drawn to the idea of taking something that could be viewed as a flaw and exploit it to my advantage. I had done something similar with the Wassaic installation where I made a 20-foot tall painting for a really small room that just happened to have a high ceiling. The effect was that you could never get back far enough to take in the painting all at once and the experience was somewhat discombobulating.

For the Sunny’s show I created five small works on paper in response to the atmosphere and low light situation of the exhibition space. Through a combination of color and material choices, framing techniques and lighting effects my aim was to have the paintings celestial forms float in dreamy pools of light. Whistler is a painter I often look at and I borrowed the name, Nocturnes, from his series of gauzy night-scapes paintings.

Your work is in Messenger, a two-person show with George Boorujy at Ortega y Gasset. Why do you feel curator Nikola Pottinger paired your works together? What have you been working on for this exhibition?
I’ve known George for a while; we have been in the same studio or studio adjacent in some way or another for over 10 years. When we first met I was making the space and ocean debris watercolors and he was making dystopian landscape ink paintings. There was a really clear overlap of interests and a mutual admiration for each other’s work. Over the years our work has diverged but we are both still making paintings about the environment. So the conversation between our work continues. It seems inevitable to me that we would be in a show together.

Nickola was really supportive of us realizing any vision we had for the show. I took this as an opportunity to move forward with an idea I had been playing around with for a painting installation. It’s a 5’ x 7’ freestanding painting of a waterfall. It sits on turquoise vinyl floor decal that is reminiscent of linoleum. I used silver leaf to depict the water which ends up having a fade effect by reflecting the color on the floor.

Can you tell us about your current studio in Crown Heights? Do you have a typical work routine?
This is my fourth studio in Brooklyn and quite possibly my favorite. It’s on the ground floor of a building with several other studios, so there is a bit of a community of support.  It doesn’t have any windows which is perfect for me because it helps me focus and I like the light to be even all day. It is also well-heated and I have my own slop sink, which are luxuries in New York City.

When I’m not painting, I freelance as an art director. Sometimes I am working around a day job schedule, so I can only get to the studio on nights and weekends. But I also have large chunks of time between gigs where I can really focus on working in the studio or do a residency.

Can you share your thoughts on how social media has impacted the experience of looking at or exhibiting art?
I was definitely late to the party, but Instagram has been a game-changer for me. For painters, in particular, Instagram is like a lovely and supportive corner of the Internet. Nothing replaces seeing a great painting in person, of course, but the platform makes it so easy to learn about what other artists up to. I can’t even count how many new and meaningful real-life relationships I have formed with other artists that originated on Instagram.

Do you maintain any collections? Can you tell us about a few meaningful artworks or objects you live with?
I am so glad you asked this. This is something that makes me so happy right now. Over that last couple of years I’ve started acquiring work by friends either through fundraisers or trades. They are my favorite possessions and it’s so hard to pick just a few.

 I have a painting on paper by Jen Sheppard that looks like a silhouette of an umbrella-like jellyfish on colorful striped background. I also have one of her small rainbow sculptures. Jen and I explore some similar themes around metaphysical and natural phenomena but I love how her approach is so different; it’s much more improvisational and has a lightness and a sense of humor.

I also have two small paintings by Danielle Klebes, a painter who I met at the Vermont Studio Center. Landscape plays a big role in her work too. Both of the paintings I have are beautifully painted and have a dystopian feel. One is of a swampy night-scape with a big orange-yellow moon and the other is of a brown bear behind a cage enclosure.

Who are some contemporary painters you’re excited about right now?
Of course, Jen and Danielle are two painters whose work I am excited about right now. Also, I think what Robbin F. Williams is able to do with materials is bananas and I am super jealous. I haven’t had the chance to see her paintings in person yet but I’ve been stalking JoAnne Carson on Instagram. Shara Hughes obviously. I saw the Amy Sherald show at Hauser and Wirth last fall and it’s really stuck with me. Those paintings were so powerful and like magic in person. I find it so easy to learn about and see great painting these days. I haven’t always felt that way so this is a really exciting time.

What else is next for you? Do you have any upcoming projects, residencies, or other news to share?
The Ortega y Gasset show is up till March 29th but is currently closed due to the Coronavirus. I am hoping to take another road trip in the fall if everything aligns with work.