On a visit to MoMA last March, I paused inside a small room of De Chirico paintings. Surrounded by a suite of his mysterious compositions, I was struck by the specificity of the light—it was unmistakably Italian. The room itself felt like a much-needed escape from New York and triggered memories of my first experience in Tuscany 17 years prior, when I was reeling from the abrupt loss of my mother to breast cancer. I had been granted the opportunity to study in Italy, and the break couldn’t have been better timed. The shift in perspective it offered shaped my decision to pursue art after my undergraduate studies. I always thought Italy would continue to play an important role in my life, and standing in that room at MoMA, I longed to return.
When I discovered SSB’s artist residency a few days later, it felt fated. A little research into SSB’s history revealed significant overlaps in creative interests. I had recently revisited Modern Love by SSB alum Constance DeJong, with whom I had studied at Hunter College. I had also spent days re-watching No Wave videos, and Richard Kern films featuring artist and SSB Braintrust member Lydia Lunch. In fact, I had just made a drawing called Fingered, inspired by her ever-provocative film of the same name.
Even still, when I learned in early April that I’d been selected for the retreat, I couldn’t believe my luck. At that moment, I was overwhelmed and exhausted by the quotidian realities of city living. I’d been in the process of questioning much about my life as an artist and my place within my community in New York. I hadn’t spent more than a couple of weeks outside of the city in over 14 years.
I arrived in Italy last June seeking to unplug and reconnect with nature. I wanted to slow down, meditate, reflect, and observe. I was desperate for time to think.
Life at Podere Malabiccia provided the respite I needed. I enjoyed practicing my Italian with vendors at weekly markets, and I relished exploring the farm and surrounding towns, often followed by Stella, the loyal dog-in-residence. My time in Tuscany also allowed me to do a tremendous amount of research. I sought out renowned and obscure frescoes and mosaics. I took thousands of photographs.
Now that I’m back in Brooklyn, my experiences in Italy continue to inform my work. Each day, I discover new relationships to mythological and religious imagery. I like the way characters can be lifted from context and granted new meaning. I returned from Italy with a broad lexicon of new iconography, but I am also reinventing and expanding on subjects I’ve consistently painted, such as snakes and masks. It’s been fun to recognize and tinker with the symbolism of these motifs based on their presence in historic paintings.
In my studio—amid the chaos and pressure of life in New York—I am able to recall the feeling of spaciousness I discovered through the peace and solitude of retreat. In these moments of grounded contemplation, I find room for creativity.