“What would YOU do if your mother asked YOU?”

Russna Kaur Somal

“What would YOU do if your mother asked YOU?”
By
Russna Kaur Somal

A THESIS SUPPORT PAPER SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF
THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF
MASTER OF FINE ARTS

EMILY CARR UNIVERSITY OF ART + DESIGN
2019

© Russna Kaur Somal 2019

My heritage is glued to colour palette, which is layered underneath
historical and contemporary painting influences. In an attempt to answer
these questions, I begin to peel back layers of personal history and the
physical layers of each painting, discovering aspects of my identity that
fuel m y desire to participate and contribute to painting today.

“You have to go your own way, to cut away from your heroes and influences and still be utterly
conscious and literate about the discourse. You have to simultaneously predict, diagnose and
ignore past, present and future all at once. You have to remember and to forget at once.”

Amy Sillman.

I rushed down the path to the old, brick Biology 1 building with my white lab
coat stuffed in my bag along with my manual, textbook and gridded notebook.
Hours went by in the classroom as we meticulously drew veins of bright green
leaves, following the exact instructions listed in our Plant Biology lab manuals.	
  
Use	
  a	
  pencil,	
  no	
  shading,	
  start	
  your	
  drawing	
  three	
  squares	
  down	
  from	
  the	
  top	
  of	
  the	
  
page	
  and	
  three	
  squares	
  in	
  from	
  the	
  edges,	
  label	
  the	
  parts	
  of	
  the	
  plant	
  to	
  the	
  right	
  of	
  
the	
  diagram,	
  use	
  a	
  ruler	
  to	
  draw	
  your	
  lines,	
  no	
  arrowheads, etc.

Parts of a plant, diagram.

There was a detailed example of what our drawings should look like on the
forest green chalkboard. Our TA drew it in case anyone was still confused.
Sitting on my stool, I became so captivated by subtle shifts in green within the
same, tiny leaf. Looking around at the other 20 students hunched over their
benches, like robots at a production line, I wondered if anyone else even
noticed.

To enhance the clarity of certain parts of the leaf, we carefully added a drop of
water to its surface, covered it with an extremely thin, square piece of glass and
examined under a microscope. Squinting one eye shut and the other open
looking and through the eyepiece lens… even more green, deep green, yellowgreen, emerald green.

A whole new way of observing opened up before me. The closer and longer I
looked, the more I discovered.

My parents were born in Punjab, India. My mom was three years old when her
family moved to Toronto. My dad moved on his own, moving in with his new
family after marrying my mom. Their marriage was arranged and they were
young, my mom 19 and my dad 21 years old. My mom and my massis1, one
older and two younger, grew up in a very strict household. Amongst many other
things, they were not allowed to talk to boys, cut their hair, cross a boundary line
in their neighborhood (determined by my grandfather) or encouraged to pursue
an education. My nanaji2 was quick to put an end to my mom and massi’s
aspirations, tearing down pictures of airplanes and cars that covered their
bedroom walls. They were never allowed to find themselves, to figure out what
they wanted from life. In her book, “Feminist Theory: from margin to center,”
American author, professor, feminist and social activist, bell hooks writes about
forms of oppression. She states, “most people witness and/or experience the
practice of sexist domination in family settings” (hooks, 36). My naniji3, mom and
massis obeyed the rules laid out for them, without questioning, out of fear. In
	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  
1	
  Mother’s	
  sister	
  
2	
  Grandfather	
  
3 randmother	
  
2
	
  Grandfather	
  

4 Mother’s	
  uncle
3
	
  Grandmother	
  

	
  

5	
  A	
  lehenga	
  is	
  a	
  two-­‐piece	
  outfit	
  that	
  include	
  a	
  long,	
  floor	
  length	
  skirt,	
  short	
  blouse	
  and	
  

addition to my nanaji, my mom and massis were under the watchful eye of my
chachajis4 ensured that they never stepped out of line. It was as if their each
and every move was controlled and accounted for. hooks continues, “family
exists as a space wherein we are socialized from birth to accept and support
forms of oppression.” (36). The women in my family never challenged anything
and didn’t dare argue, it was unheard of for a woman in my family to voice her
opinion. It’s as if speaking up for yourself was something to be ashamed of. My
naniji, my mom and my massis were stripped of their voice and were raised to
listen. This caused them to repress emotions, which turned into resentment,
depression and regret. hooks stresses that “brutal assertion of domination
shapes family life so that it is often the setting of intense suffering and pain.”
(37). Due to the experiences that many women, including the women in my
family, go through, oppression can turn into anger, pain and bitterness that get
passed down to future generations, and the cycle continues. How can this cycle
be broken?

For me, painting is how I break the cycle. Painting gives me the voice I never
had. It gives me a platform to say what I want and how I want. It allows me to
use my voice – as if every colour is a word I never spoke, every gesture a
question mark, every mark is a period, textures become exclamation marks and
shapes become commas constructing sentences I never said and my surfaces
come together like conversations I never had. In an interview with Border
Crossings magazine Canadian painter, Beth Letain whose vibrant canvases
speak loudly, expresses her ideas on painting, “I think of painting as a
conversation where you’re saying something to the people who came before
you and you’re trying to contribute something to the people who will come after.”
	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  
4	
  Mother’s	
  uncle	
  

(Borderviews, “Paintings That Go on Somewhere Else”). This quote resonates
with me in two ways:

(1) Art historically, I see my practice in conversation with the abstract
expressionist movement in terms of emphasis placed on the gesture,
materiality of paint, colour and scale. Further, I see my work in line with
the postmodernist movement of deskilling and construction or destruction
of an idea, materials and surfaces. As I progressed through the MFA
program, I realized that my work is not autonomous from my identity,
experiences or life. It does not exist as a free-floating, separate object.
Painting becomes an extension of myself and this is embedded in the
colors, materials and surfaces I use. With this philosophy, my paintings
are not static, fixed or permanent objects. Much like myself, the surfaces I
paint on can shift and change. They are responsive, dynamic, alive and
unfixed. They take comfort in discomfort. In addition, my paintings are in
conversation with contemporary Punjabi painters as we are members of
the same community. My work is a reaction or response to all of these
influences. I aim to offer a different perspective that will inspire other
artists from my community to consider alternative ways of communicating
their story through painting, and not feel as though there is only one way
to share it. I bring to painting today this voice that is currently not being
heard and working in a way that is not being seen from an artist with my
background.

(2) Personally, I consider this quote in terms of my community, specifically
women in my family. My practice is in conversation with them as well. My
work is not only empowering for me, but also for them. The act of painting

is how I take a stance. Through painting I am able to communicate with
generations of painters and generations of family.

Thinking and making occur in non-linear ways within my practice. This support
paper has been written, as I would approach painting a painting, in distinct
sections yet allowing ideas to flow freely. Drawing from a variety of sources, I
often jump from a thought I had to a conversation shared, an article I read and a
colour I’ve seen. By discussing and dissecting a painting created in the Fall
2018 semester, “A piece of pie (an aerial view)”, I uncover the methodology for
my entire body of work created in the duration of the graduate program.

Through my auto-ethnographic approach to writing this paper I question: is the
freedom experienced through painting limited by aspects of my identity that are
out of my control? How can I use abstraction to break the mold of what is
expected of my work, given my identity as a Canadian woman with Punjabi
heritage? Abstraction is not untethered from culture or history, so how can I use
it to share my story without my identity sitting on the surface of my paintings? As
I become tangled in multiple threads of thought, I find myself slowly unknotting
them, looking for the needle that will stitch all of the ideas together. This paper is
written in a way that represents how I’ve organized information in my mind.

Installation, A piece of pie (an aerial view), (center right), 2018.

	
  
My	
  full	
  name	
  is	
  Russna	
  Kaur	
  Somal,	
  which	
  very	
  clearly	
  indicates	
  my	
  identity	
  and	
  
because	
  of	
  this,	
  I	
  feel	
  as	
  though	
  there	
  are	
  certain	
  expectations	
  of	
  what	
  my	
  work	
  
should	
  look	
  like.	
  In	
  Sikhism,	
  all	
  males	
  share	
  the	
  same	
  middle	
  name,	
  Singh,	
  and	
  all	
  
females	
  share	
  the	
  middle	
  name,	
  Kaur.	
  As	
  a	
  Canadian	
  woman	
  with	
  a	
  Punjabi-­‐Sikh	
  
heritage,	
  it	
  is	
  important	
  for	
  me	
  that	
  my	
  identity	
  does	
  not	
  sit	
  on	
  the	
  surface	
  of	
  my	
  
paintings,	
  as	
  it	
  is	
  already	
  clear	
  in	
  the	
  name	
  I	
  use	
  as	
  an	
  artist,	
  Russna	
  Kaur.	
  In	
  
conducting	
  research	
  for	
  this	
  paper,	
  I	
  tried	
  to	
  find	
  examples	
  of	
  other	
  female	
  painters	
  
with	
  a	
  Punjabi	
  background	
  that	
  are	
  currently	
  painting	
  or	
  have	
  painted.	
  Finding	
  few	
  
results	
  of	
  historical	
  and	
  contemporary	
  painters,	
  I	
  realized	
  that	
  none	
  of	
  the	
  artists	
  

worked	
  with	
  ‘abstraction’.	
  American	
  art	
  historian	
  and	
  the	
  first	
  director	
  of	
  the	
  
Museum	
  of	
  Modern	
  Art	
  in	
  New	
  York	
  City,	
  Alfred	
  H.	
  Barr	
  defined	
  ‘abstract’	
  in	
  two	
  
ways:	
  as	
  a	
  noun	
  and	
  as	
  a	
  verb.	
  He	
  explains:	
  
	
  
The	
  verb	
  to	
  abstract	
  means	
  to	
  draw	
  out	
  of	
  or	
  away	
  from.	
  But	
  the	
  noun	
  
abstraction	
  is	
  something	
  already	
  drawn	
  out	
  of	
  or	
  away	
  from	
  –	
  so	
  much	
  that,	
  like	
  
a	
  geometrical	
  figure	
  or	
  an	
  amorphous	
  silhouette,	
  it	
  may	
  have	
  no	
  apparent	
  
relation	
  to	
  concrete	
  reality.	
  (Barr	
  Jr.,	
  11-­‐19).	
  	
  
	
  
I	
  believe	
  my	
  paintings	
  are	
  abstract	
  as	
  a	
  noun,	
  as	
  they	
  make	
  no	
  reference	
  to	
  imagery,	
  
figures	
  or	
  landscapes.	
  Barr	
  refers	
  to	
  Malevich’s	
  red	
  and	
  black	
  square,	
  Mondrian’s	
  
Composition	
  and	
  Kandinsky’s	
  use	
  of	
  non-­‐geometrical	
  as	
  well	
  as	
  geometrical	
  forms,	
  
stating	
  that	
  the	
  paintings	
  have	
  “absolutely	
  no	
  dependence	
  upon	
  natural	
  forms”	
  and	
  
are	
  “purely	
  abstract	
  in	
  genesis	
  as	
  well	
  as	
  in	
  its	
  final	
  form.”	
  He	
  continues	
  to	
  expand	
  
on	
  this	
  idea	
  of	
  pure-­‐abstraction	
  and	
  clarifies,	
  “pure-­‐abstractions	
  are	
  those	
  in	
  which	
  
the	
  artist	
  makes	
  a	
  composition	
  of	
  abstract	
  elements	
  such	
  as	
  geometrical	
  or	
  
amorphous	
  shapes.”	
  (11-­‐19).	
  Again,	
  the	
  paintings	
  are	
  abstract	
  (noun).	
  On	
  the	
  
contrary,	
  Mondrian’s	
  ‘plus	
  and	
  minus’	
  painting	
  is	
  not	
  pure-­‐abstraction	
  as	
  it	
  is	
  based	
  
upon	
  a	
  seascape	
  and	
  has	
  been	
  “abstracted	
  (note	
  the	
  verb)”	
  from	
  nature	
  therefore	
  
becomes	
  a	
  ‘near-­‐abstraction’.	
  Barr	
  defines	
  this	
  as	
  “compositions	
  in	
  which	
  the	
  artist,	
  
starting	
  with	
  natural	
  forms,	
  transforms	
  them	
  into	
  abstract	
  or	
  nearly	
  abstract	
  forms.”	
  
(11-­‐19).	
  More	
  recently,	
  when	
  discussing	
  the	
  origins	
  of	
  abstract	
  expressionism,	
  
American	
  art	
  historian	
  Kirk	
  Varnedoe	
  states	
  that	
  artists	
  such	
  as	
  Jackson	
  Pollock,	
  

Barnett	
  Newman,	
  Willem	
  de	
  Kooning	
  and	
  Mark	
  Rothko	
  emerged	
  from	
  the	
  context	
  of	
  
surrealism,	
  with	
  an	
  emphasis	
  on	
  “visual	
  free	
  association.”	
  	
  He	
  continues:	
  
	
  
Abstract	
  expressionist	
  painting	
  had	
  its	
  roots	
  in	
  the	
  unconscious	
  mind.	
  It	
  was,	
  
to	
  paraphrase	
  one	
  of	
  these	
  artists,	
  made	
  ‘out	
  of	
  ourselves’,	
  without	
  any	
  
accompanying	
  insistence	
  on	
  the	
  former	
  metaphysical	
  or	
  social	
  agendas	
  of	
  
abstraction	
  (Varnedoe,	
  20-­‐45).	
  
	
  
As	
  a	
  result,	
  the	
  process	
  of	
  actually	
  making	
  the	
  art	
  becomes	
  the	
  content	
  through	
  
which	
  the	
  work	
  gains	
  meaning.	
  No	
  two	
  artists	
  will	
  make	
  the	
  same	
  mark.	
  The	
  
physicality	
  of	
  applying	
  paint,	
  exposes	
  the	
  materiality	
  of	
  the	
  medium,	
  the	
  gesture,	
  
while	
  the	
  overwhelming	
  scale	
  draws	
  attention	
  to	
  the	
  relationship	
  between	
  pictorial	
  
space	
  and	
  the	
  body.	
  In	
  the	
  postmodern	
  movement,	
  this	
  continues	
  to	
  develop,	
  as	
  
abstract	
  art	
  becomes	
  less	
  about	
  this	
  construction	
  of	
  an	
  image	
  and	
  more	
  about	
  the	
  
destruction	
  of	
  an	
  image.	
  	
  	
  
	
  
The	
  women	
  a	
  part	
  of	
  the	
  ab-­‐ex	
  movement	
  -­‐	
  Elaine	
  de	
  Kooning,	
  Mary	
  Abbott,	
  Perle	
  
Fine,	
  Lee	
  Krasner,	
  Joan	
  Mitchell	
  and	
  Helen	
  Frankenthaler	
  –	
  often	
  get	
  left	
  out	
  but	
  are	
  
crucial	
  figures.	
  In	
  a	
  September	
  2018	
  interview	
  with	
  VICE,	
  author	
  Mary	
  Gabriel	
  talks	
  
about	
  her	
  book	
  “Ninth	
  Street	
  Women”,	
  named	
  after	
  the	
  New	
  York	
  gallery	
  that	
  first	
  
showed	
  the	
  works	
  of	
  some	
  of	
  these	
  female	
  artists.	
  These	
  women	
  were	
  
overshadowed	
  by	
  their	
  male	
  counterparts;	
  their	
  work	
  was	
  undervalued	
  in	
  
comparison	
  and	
  turned	
  down	
  by	
  galleries.	
  Motivated	
  to	
  pave	
  their	
  own	
  path,	
  these	
  

artists	
  “didn’t	
  take	
  kindly	
  to	
  the	
  limitations	
  put	
  upon	
  them”	
  and	
  were	
  determined	
  to	
  
break	
  the	
  mold	
  of	
  what	
  was	
  expected	
  of	
  them	
  as	
  women	
  (“Three	
  Cheers”,	
  Jacolbe).	
  	
  
	
  
With	
  this	
  history	
  in	
  mind,	
  I	
  looked	
  closely	
  at	
  the	
  work	
  of	
  some	
  of	
  the	
  painters	
  I	
  came	
  
across	
  in	
  my	
  research,	
  eager	
  to	
  find	
  an	
  artist	
  who	
  shares	
  my	
  heritage	
  and	
  that	
  my	
  
work	
  is	
  in	
  dialogue	
  with.	
  	
  
	
  
•

In	
  the	
  1930’s,	
  painter	
  Amrita	
  Sher-­‐Gil	
  was	
  considered	
  to	
  be	
  “a	
  pioneer	
  of	
  
modern	
  Indian	
  art”	
  as	
  she	
  depicted	
  the	
  daily	
  lives	
  of	
  Indian	
  women	
  “often	
  
revealing	
  a	
  sense	
  of	
  their	
  loneliness	
  and	
  even	
  hopelessness.”(“Overlooked	
  No	
  
More”,	
  Mzezewa).	
  Dealing	
  with	
  figures,	
  Sher-­‐Gil’s	
  paintings	
  often	
  made	
  clear	
  
references	
  to	
  her	
  own	
  Hungarian-­‐Indian	
  identity.	
  	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
Three Girls, 1935. Amrita Sher-Gil.
This material has been removed because of copyright restrictions.

	
  

•

More	
  recently	
  sisters,	
  Amrit	
  and	
  Rabindra	
  Singh,	
  known	
  as	
  the	
  Singh	
  Twins	
  
are	
  a	
  painting	
  duo	
  based	
  in	
  the	
  UK,	
  “their	
  highly	
  decorative,	
  narrative	
  and	
  
symbolic	
  work,	
  has	
  been	
  recognized	
  as	
  pioneering	
  a	
  modern	
  revival	
  of	
  Indian	
  
miniature	
  painting	
  within	
  contemporary	
  art	
  practice.”	
  (“Brief	
  Profile”,	
  The	
  
Singh	
  Twins).	
  In	
  addition	
  to	
  references	
  of	
  Indian	
  miniature	
  painting,	
  evident	
  
in	
  their	
  work	
  is	
  the	
  contrast	
  between	
  east/west	
  and	
  old/new.	
  	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  	
  	
  	
  	
   Daddy Sitting in the Sitting Room III, The Singh Twins.
This image has been removed because of copyright restrictions.

	
  
•

Another	
  UK	
  based	
  multi-­‐media	
  artist,	
  Sarinder	
  Dhaliwal’s	
  work	
  is	
  often	
  
influenced	
  by	
  her	
  changing	
  surroundings.	
  Born	
  in	
  India	
  and	
  raised	
  in	
  
Southall,	
  London	
  she	
  has	
  painted	
  large-­‐scale	
  watercolour	
  works	
  based	
  on	
  
photographs	
  she	
  took	
  on	
  a	
  trip	
  to	
  India.	
  (“Sarinder	
  Dhaliwal”,	
  
LalitKalaAkademi	
  Chandigarh).	
  The	
  paintings	
  depict	
  several	
  billboards	
  of	
  
imagery	
  found	
  in	
  India	
  and	
  written	
  in	
  the	
  various	
  languages	
  spoken	
  in	
  the	
  
country.	
  	
  	
  

	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
Painting by artist Sarinder Dhaliwal.
This images has been removed because of copyright restrictions.

•

Local	
  Vancouver	
  artist,	
  Sandeep	
  Johal	
  is	
  a	
  Canadian	
  painter	
  “whose	
  colourful	
  
geometric	
  forms	
  and	
  intricate	
  black	
  and	
  white	
  line	
  work	
  is	
  aesthetically	
  and	
  
conceptually	
  inspired	
  by	
  her	
  South	
  Asian	
  heritage”	
  (Johal,	
  2017).	
  Johal	
  is	
  best	
  
known	
  for	
  her	
  bold	
  public	
  murals	
  and	
  her	
  rest	
  in	
  power	
  series	
  in	
  which	
  “she	
  
dedicated	
  a	
  body	
  of	
  work	
  to	
  twelve	
  women	
  from	
  various	
  cultural	
  
backgrounds	
  whose	
  murders	
  have	
  impacted	
  her	
  deeply.”	
  (Johal).	
  
	
  
	
  	
  	
  	
  
	
  
	
  

	
  
	
  
Marina Menegazzo + Maria Jose Coni/Rest in Power V, Sandeep Johal.
This image has been removed because of copyright restrictions.

	
  
•

Toronto	
  based	
  multi-­‐media	
  artist	
  Nep	
  Sidhu	
  whose	
  solo	
  show,	
  Medicine	
  for	
  a	
  
Nightmare	
  (they	
  called,	
  we	
  responded)	
  recently	
  opened	
  at	
  Mercer	
  Union,	
  
“intends	
  to	
  explore	
  material	
  as	
  a	
  carrier	
  and	
  communicator	
  of	
  knowledge.”	
  
(“Nep	
  Sidhu”,	
  Hampton).	
  For	
  the	
  show,	
  he	
  worked	
  with	
  metal	
  to	
  create	
  
amulets,	
  medallions,	
  and	
  other	
  adornments,	
  engraved	
  with	
  Punjabi	
  script	
  
that	
  makes	
  reference	
  to	
  Sikh	
  holy	
  text	
  and	
  the	
  1984	
  Sikh	
  Massacre.	
  Included	
  
in	
  the	
  show	
  is	
  a	
  large	
  scale,	
  painted	
  tapestry,	
  which	
  displays	
  “a	
  medley	
  of	
  
handsome	
  carpets,	
  rich-­‐looking	
  textiles	
  and	
  blades	
  of	
  all	
  shapes	
  ‘dancing.’”	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
Medicine for a Nightmare (they called, we responded), Nep Sidhu.
This image has been removed because of copyright restrictions.

	
  
Although	
  these	
  artists	
  are	
  abstracting	
  images,	
  their	
  identities	
  as	
  artists	
  of	
  
Punjabi/Indian	
  heritage	
  are	
  quickly	
  read	
  on	
  the	
  surface	
  of	
  their	
  work.	
  Moving	
  away	
  
from	
  pure-­‐abstraction,	
  they	
  incorporate	
  Indian	
  motifs,	
  tropes,	
  imagery	
  and	
  symbols.	
  

I	
  can	
  appreciate	
  the	
  importance	
  of	
  having	
  such	
  art	
  in	
  galleries,	
  museums	
  and	
  
institutions;	
  this	
  is	
  not	
  a	
  criticism	
  of	
  their	
  work.	
  However,	
  it	
  does	
  raise	
  the	
  question,	
  
why	
  is	
  this	
  often	
  the	
  way	
  Punjabi	
  artists	
  are	
  represented?	
  Many	
  artists	
  deal	
  with	
  
conflictions	
  around	
  the	
  representation	
  of	
  identity.	
  Pakistani-­‐American	
  visual	
  artist,	
  
Shahzia	
  Sikander	
  expresses	
  her	
  opinion:	
  
	
  
[…]	
  this	
  whole	
  issue	
  on	
  identity	
  always	
  became	
  an	
  important	
  thing.	
  But	
  
along	
  came	
  simplistic	
  readings.	
  Oh,	
  “Muslim	
  woman”,	
  “Pakistani	
  artist”,	
  deals	
  
with	
  maybe	
  “liberation”…	
  “oppression	
  of	
  women”.	
  So	
  simplistic	
  readings	
  like	
  
that…I	
  feel	
  that	
  they	
  are	
  the	
  most	
  detrimental	
  thing	
  (“Shahzia	
  Sikander”,	
  
MoMa).	
  
	
  
Abstraction,	
  for	
  me,	
  was	
  a	
  way	
  to	
  avoid	
  this	
  simple,	
  quick	
  reading	
  of	
  my	
  work.	
  By	
  
using	
  Indian	
  imagery	
  or	
  motifs,	
  I	
  think	
  the	
  work	
  is	
  at	
  risk	
  of	
  being	
  easily	
  dismissed	
  
and	
  categorized	
  under	
  a	
  specific	
  group.	
  I	
  feel	
  as	
  though	
  I	
  can’t	
  escape	
  this	
  
expectation	
  to	
  fit	
  within	
  a	
  specific	
  mold.	
  In	
  my	
  family,	
  I	
  was	
  expected	
  to	
  study	
  
science,	
  pursue	
  medical	
  school	
  and	
  become	
  a	
  doctor.	
  By	
  deciding	
  to	
  study	
  art	
  and	
  
paint,	
  I	
  broke	
  out	
  of	
  this	
  mold.	
  When	
  it	
  comes	
  to	
  painting,	
  again	
  I	
  feel	
  like	
  because	
  of	
  
my	
  heritage,	
  I	
  am	
  expected	
  to	
  paint	
  certain	
  imagery	
  addressing	
  my	
  identity	
  in	
  a	
  very	
  
clear	
  way	
  because	
  that	
  is	
  the	
  way	
  it	
  has	
  been	
  done.	
  American	
  contemporary	
  artist,	
  
Mary	
  Heilmann	
  expresses	
  her	
  ideas	
  surrounding	
  viewing	
  images:	
  
	
  

Each	
  of	
  my	
  paintings	
  can	
  be	
  seen	
  as	
  an	
  autobiographical	
  marker,	
  a	
  cue,	
  by	
  
which	
  I	
  evoke	
  a	
  moment	
  from	
  my	
  past,	
  or	
  my	
  projected	
  future,	
  each	
  a	
  charm	
  
to	
  conjure	
  mental	
  reality	
  and	
  to	
  give	
  it	
  physical	
  form	
  (Heilmann,	
  7).	
  
	
  
Heilmann’s	
  paintings	
  use	
  colour,	
  shape	
  and	
  space,	
  which	
  are	
  “imbued	
  with	
  
recollections,	
  stories	
  spun	
  from	
  her	
  imagination,	
  and	
  references	
  to	
  music,	
  aesthetic	
  
influences,	
  and	
  dreams	
  -­‐	
  her	
  paintings	
  are	
  like	
  meditations	
  or	
  icons.”	
  (“Mary	
  
Heilmann”,	
  303	
  Gallery).	
  Heilmann’s	
  work	
  still	
  addresses	
  her	
  identity,	
  however	
  it	
  is	
  
not	
  sitting	
  on	
  the	
  surface	
  of	
  her	
  canvas	
  but	
  instead	
  is	
  embedded	
  in	
  the	
  layers	
  of	
  her	
  
paint.	
  This	
  is	
  how	
  I	
  would	
  like	
  my	
  work	
  to	
  be	
  read.	
  Through	
  abstract	
  painting	
  I	
  can	
  
complicate	
  the	
  reading	
  of	
  who	
  I	
  am	
  as	
  a	
  person/artist	
  because	
  my	
  identity	
  is	
  more	
  
complex	
  than	
  using	
  direct	
  imagery,	
  motifs,	
  symbols	
  and	
  tropes.	
  

Reflecting upon my thesis defense, I consider an important question that was asked
during the discussion: can a painting truly be abstract? What is the role of
representational imagery in the work? This is not a concept that I had thought about in
such a way before. My understanding of representational imagery was limited. I defined
it as something that could be recognized, something that is seen in everyday life,
experienced in one way and depicted in a painting. However, representational imagery
is not so objective, it’s reading varies depending on one’s own subjectivity. American
art critic, Thomas McEvilley, writes:

We tend to feel that representation works by a recognizable element of
objective resemblance, yet it seems more accurate to say that what we
experience as representation is, like aesthetic taste, a culturally conditioned

habit response not involving objective resemblance (McEvilley, “Thirteen Ways
of Looking at a Blackbird”).

Let’s take, for example, a painted landscape – the imagery used within the painting will
resonate with me, based upon my culture, upbringing and experiences, differently than
someone from another part of the world. Further, representation is not restricted to
nature, portraiture or objects. Decisions surrounding colour palette are representational,
the colors I use in my work represent something – my experiences, my culture, and my
preferences. Paint application and decisions surrounding materials and surfaces are
representational, the variety of ways in which I make a mark with paint carry emotion,
my gestures are loaded. Colour is not simply pigment and the treatments of my
surfaces are not solely formal decisions, it all represents something – contrary to my
earlier thoughts, my paintings are not “pure abstractions”. They are an extension of
myself - a representation of my experiences.

Pattern has been a big part of my life. My mom started selling Indian bridal
lehengas5, suits and saris fifteen years ago. This has impacted how I combine
colour, textures and shapes in my practice. From a young age I helped my mom
to fold beautifully embroidered, vibrantly coloured. The colour pink is my mom’s
favorite colour; the hue was prominently represented in every shade possible
within the piles of fabric: blush pink, dusty rose, fuchsia, bright pink, fluorescent
pink and amaranth. It was amazing how so many colours were combined on a
single piece of fabric. Each colour demanded attention, yet there was an
effortless elegance. The lehengas were made of several different fabrics that
overlapped each other. For example, a bright pink, raw silk skirt would have a
net fabric stitched over top of it. The silk held a rich stiffness and a subtle, tight
weave and the net was almost transparent, but became darker where the skirt
	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  
5	
  A	
  lehenga	
  is	
  a	
  two-­‐piece	
  outfit	
  that	
  include	
  a	
  long,	
  floor	
  length	
  skirt,	
  short	
  blouse	
  and	
  
dupatta	
  (shawl-­‐like	
  scarf).	
  	
  	
  

was pleated, tinting the colour of the silk underneath. The gold threadwork and
gemstones on the wide border of the skirt weighed down the net. The georgette
dupatta1 would drape elegantly off the shoulders of my mom's clients, like a
waterfall of delicate fabric cascading to the floor.

Brocade silk fabric.

Each fabric draped and pleated so differently; thick velvet would create large,
luscious, dramatic pleats and achieve a depth of colour only revealed as the
light touched it, while the satin silk had a luminous sheen and subtle gathering
but accumulated static as it moved. Being surrounded by patterns, yards of
fabrics in every colour, texture, weights and cutting and combining fabrics to
create movement deeply inspired my development as an artist.

My interest in pattern and colour led me to the work of Brazilian artist Beatriz
Milhazes, who creates colourful abstract paintings, prints, collages and
tapestries. Her work is influenced by nature, rhythm, music, Brazilian folk art,
colour and Modernist abstraction, all of which contribute to the creation of the
motifs she uses in her paintings. Milhazes’ paintings come together in distinct
sections and her unique paint application process is integral to her practice. In
her process, she works with the idea of collage: cutting paper, fabrics and
canvas and applying them to her canvas. In an in-studio interview, Milhazes
expresses her thoughts on colour: “I am interested in conflict, and the moment
you add one more colour you start the conflict - which is endless. So it’s
constant movement to your eyes, to yourself and to your body.” (Pérez Art
Museum Miami, “Beatriz Milhazes”). Her method of creating movement through
colour is similar to how I think about the power colour has and its potential
impacts. With simple shapes such as circles, squares, swirls, outlines and floral
forms, Milhazes use of striking, flat colours and bold patterns to create paintings
that have explosive energy.

Bibi, Beatriz Milhazes.
This image has been removed because of copyright restrictions.

I stare at blank surfaces not knowing where to begin. In a daze, I become
distracted as certain colors, textures and marks trigger long held
m emories, fascinations and new curiosities. Painting and writing
encourage reflection in different ways – during the process of making a
painting, I think about how each mark made on the surface affects the
composition as a whole. Once a painting is complete, I analyze how each
element functions within the composition, whether it is the saturation of a
colour, direction of a line, or the speed of a mark. Processing this
information, I decide how to move forward into the next painting. Similarly,
when writing about the work, I consider such questions: why is the act of
painting so important to m e? W hy do I use bold colours with such ease?
W hat role does scale play in my practice? W hat makes me think in terms
of collage?

My heritage is glued to colour palette, which is layered underneath
historical and contemporary painting influences. In an attempt to answer
these questions, I begin to peel back layers of personal history and the
physical layers of each painting, discovering aspects of my identity that
fuel m y desire to participate and contribute to painting today.

A piece of pie (an aerial view), 120 x 90 in., mixed media, 2018.

A piece of pie (an aerial view), outline.

	
  
Like a sudden outburst of emotion, a painting I created on a single wood panel,
A piece of pie (an aerial view), exploded onto multiple surfaces of varying sizes
and depths. Playing with the materiality of paint, I mixed it to a velvety
consistency and poured it from jars, sprayed it from cans and spread it like
butter with my fingers. Paper was layered in segments like a stitched quilt,
textured with childlike scribbles in crayon and swiftly cut into with a blade. The
transition from one surface to another flows fluidly at times while other shifts are
cut off abruptly. Some lines and shapes are trapped in an endless loop of
movement within the frame of the composition while others escape, trailing off
the edge of the surface searching for a new life.

This painting combines everything I am excited by or curious about such as
bold colour, large scale, collage, experimenting with the proximity between
multiple surfaces and how that affects the reading of the work. It opened up a
new way of making, one that allows me to pull from a wide range of sources and
play with the application of elements. This includes the various ways I apply
paint to the surface, adhere paper or cut canvas and use different tools to make
a mark. Whether it be a specific mark to balance the composition or throw off
the balance, bringing together colour palettes or breaking them apart, building
up areas of texture or flattening the surface, the sources I pull from assist in
creating my visual language, which accumulates over time. This language is
developed as I gain a deeper understanding of the materials I am using and the
marks they can produce. In the studio, I learn about these marks and when to
use them as each one contains a different energy. In an interview with BOMB
Magazine, artist Julie Mehretu describes her relationship with mark making,
“[…] drawn marks behave as characters, individuals. The characters keep

evolving and changing through the painting.” (Chua, “Julie Mehretu”). Similarly,
in my work every gesture has a role to play and, as I get to know it better, I push
to develop it further. This could take the form of increasing or decreasing the
scale of a mark, repeating the mark, outlining it or filling it in. My interest in mark
making is informed by my previous experiences in Biology labs drawing
detailed diagrams as well as watching my mom design bridal lehengas that
combined brightly dyed fabrics of various textures and patterns.

I am intrigued in amusement parks where I am overtaken by the spectacle of
what is offered in the space: twisting roller-coasters, oversized costumed
characters, building facades meant to look like they are from another era, sharp
neon lights, puffs of cotton candy and fireworks. These spaces may be anxiety
inducing to most, but for me, it is amongst this chaos I am most at ease. In these
spaces I blend into the crowd, have fun and feel liberated from ordinary
expectations and responsibilities in daily life. Consumed by the elements that
make up the space, it is difficult to know if what I’m feeling is real or a result of
the overwhelming nature of the space. It is difficult to attempt to understand
these spaces at once; one needs to break the experience into digestible parts
to grasp how I am affected. The experience of being in an amusement park
inspires me to make something bigger than myself, to deflect attention onto
something else, even if temporary. This desire to deflect is connected to being
the eldest (and only) daughter in my family, where I am constantly in the
spotlight. Creating paintings became an outlet for me, a form of non-verbal
expression that allowed me to feel the way I felt in these spaces: completely free
while being totally present.

I have isolated each component of the painting in Fig. 3, numbering the
surfaces from 1-10, the order in which they were painted. Describing the
construction of this looming, large-scale painting – that allowed for more
experimentation than what could occur on a single surface – gives me an
opportunity to think though how I approach making.

1. This panel (48 x 53 in.) transformed several times before
becoming a part of this painting. I started working on this
painting in my first year of graduate studies and in its
early stages it displayed many of the same ideas that
ultimately came together in, A piece of pie (an aerial
view). After a few sketches (both hand drawn and digital),
the “finished” piece included sculptural elements that
protruded out from the wood panel surface, in addition to

the use of multiple overlapping surfaces. The color palette
was simple - too simple, not complicated enough - paint was
applied conservatively. Stepping back from the work, I
realized that paint was not being used in a stimulating
way. I applied it too thinly, with little texture, and
several elements in the work were of a similar scale.

In the second iteration and without a sketch, I painted
over the entire surface using white gesso, allowing some
parts of the previous painting to show through as the
layers built up. Peeking out from beneath, the under
painting was used as a starting point and dictated the next
mark. Allowing a painting to be a guide, Mehretu explains
the importance of learning from what is on the surface:

The most interesting things that can happen in
painting are not what you can plan in advance but what
happens when you’re making them. It breaks down all
the preconceptions of what you think you have (Chua).

In order to give the painting this kind of agency requires
confidence in what I am doing. One of the exercises that
help build this confidence is creating textured paper, or
small-scale collages using various tools in the studio such
as markers, crayons, paint, and oil pastel. This is a way
to loosen up how I make marks on a surface. In this way, I

am not concerned with making mistakes, which may open up to
new ways of mark making that may not happen on a larger
surface. Pulling sheets from this stack, I tore, cut and
folded the pieces and applied them to the panel, blocking
out areas of colour and assembling the composition. Using a
food processor, I blended together objects collected from
the Richmond Night Market such as stuffed animals, Hello
Kitty notebooks, hair extensions, nail polish, blue glitter
and key chains. With this pulp, I made paper that was then
collaged into the painting.

I drew the outlines of shapes found in photographs taken in
and around Landsdowne Mall in Richmond, BC. Through this

process, I discovered shapes, which I increased in scale
and painted onto the surface of the panel. This method of
generating shapes came from a public art project I was
commissioned to make for the City of Richmond.
Participating artists were encouraged to look at their
surroundings for inspiration. By documenting various areas
of the city I was able to extract shapes from areas of
shadow, negative spaces or other peculiarities that often
go overlooked in daily life. A pink deflated balloon can be
found in the painting, which was cut open and filled with
the stuffing found inside stuffed animals.

Red is the color of the light that signals a stop. It is the last color I
remember seeing on December 24, 2013 at 2:20pm as my car refused to
stop and I found myself in the middle of a busy intersection. It is the color
that I saw as I closed my eyes, bracing myself from the impact of a car
hitting my driver’s side door at full speed. It is the color that was dripping
from my forehead when the airbags didn’t deploy and my car came to a
halt as it crashed into a pole.

It is the color of fire trucks and E M E R G E N C Y. Red is the colour of
panic, depression, failure, anxiety, wondering how I was still alive and
why I was given a second chance.

Panel 1: Process

2. This panel (30 x 24 in.) was planned carefully using
Photoshop to sketch how it was to connect with panel #1. To
begin, a grid-like pattern was made on paper using crayons
to draw free, childlike lines that intersected with one
another. I built up the texture on the panel by using cold
wax medium. I mixed pigments by folding the colour in using
a palette knife like a baker mixing sweet, sugary frosting.
Laying the panel flat on the ground, I put on a latex glove
and scooped up a handful of paint. Crouched down on the
floor next to the panel, I squeezed my hand, letting the
paint drop to the top of the panel. Quickly wiping my hand
on the edge of the panel, with the waxy, stiff paint, I was
able to create peaks of colour that stuck out from the
surface. Once this dried overnight, the surface was lifted
off the ground and hung on the wall where I created much
slower marks using three colours: red oxide, yellow ochre
and burnt sienna. I added these warmer tones to contrast

the cool, artificial neon yellow, pink and electric blue.
After mixing sawdust into the paint (for quicker drying
time and additional texture) I applied it to the surface
with a small palette knife, making tiny, repetitive
gestures the size of my fingernail. Finally, I mixed a
bright pink colour by combining neon acrylic paint and
crimson red oil combining them into cold wax medium. Then
using my finger, which allows more control and reduces the
distance between my surface and myself, I applied the paint
using a fast, zigzag motion.

Panel 2: Process

3. Referring to my Photoshop sketch, I started by mixing
yellow ochre and brown tones from the edge of panel #2,
which would connect seamlessly to this panel (30 x 30 in.).
Looking for ways to complicate the surface of the
paintings, I attempt to invite my viewer to look at the
work for a longer period of time so as to discover more
about my process as the layers unfold before them. In this
panel, once the paint was mixed, I used a tiny palette
knife to apply the medium on the panel. With just a bit of
paint on the tip of knife, in one slight motion I pushed
down on the surface and lifted up, creating miniature
peaks. The collection of these small, repeated gestures
produced a larger gesture that covered half of the panel.
While the paint was wet I took a piece of oil pastel and,

from the top of the panel to the middle I drew a line to
break up the surface and texture. This allowed the first
layers of the painting to come through, creating a river of
blue paint that flowed into the center of the composition.
Mixing a pastel pink hue with molding paste, the sticky,
melted marshmallow like substance was loaded onto a brush
and applied to the middle of the surface. In order to avoid
the center of the composition becoming the focus of
attention, the pastel pink bowl shape was echoed towards
the top of the composition.

I’ve	
  spent	
  my	
  entire	
  life	
  in	
  and	
  out	
  of	
  swimming	
  pools,	
  from	
  being	
  a	
  Starfish	
  to	
  
completing	
  level	
  12,	
  to	
  swimming	
  competitively	
  and	
  becoming	
  a	
  certified	
  lifeguard.	
  
The	
  smell	
  of	
  chlorine,	
  the	
  Cerulean	
  blue	
  hue	
  the	
  water	
  takes	
  on	
  and	
  the	
  feeling	
  of	
  
diving	
  to	
  the	
  bottom	
  of	
  the	
  pool.	
  Disappearing	
  into	
  silence	
  brings	
  an	
  instant	
  
serenity.	
  Sound	
  seems	
  to	
  echo	
  through	
  these	
  spaces	
  introducing	
  a	
  chaos	
  that	
  
bubbles	
  into	
  stillness	
  at	
  the	
  bottom	
  of	
  the	
  cobalt	
  blue	
  pool.	
  
	
  

Panel 3: Process

	
  

	
  
	
  

	
  	
  

	
  

4. This collaged painting on paper (54 x 73 in.) began by
making various marks on small pieces of watercolour paper
(4 x 5 in.). Using many different mediums such as oil
stick, watercolour, acrylic, coloured pencil and marker, I
made marks varying from quick scribbles and dashes to long,
slow thick lines as well as overall washes of colour.

I use colour as a starting point for much of my work, it helps me organize my thoughts as
each colour provides varying degrees of visual weight. For example, colours like red or
black can be, visually, very heavy – so instead of blocking out areas of the painting in these
tones, they become outlines. American painter, Amy Sillman’s surfaces instate her intense
explorations of colour. In a lecture given at the Whitney Museum of American Art Sillman
says:

Colour is a primary tool for negation in my work – colors that block each other out or
contradict each other, and are mixed in an archeological-dialectic of continual
destruction and reconstruction. My palette begins with everything I look at in the world:
paintings, iPhone apps, cartoons, magazines, flowers, fashion, buildings, landscapes,
books, and movies (Whitney Museum of American Art, “Seminars with Artists”).

My surfaces are constantly in flux; being cut into, layered on top of, torn apart or hung side
by side destruction and reconstruction is a part of my process. Often colour and paint are
treated the same way; painting over work that was once considered complete with fresh
colours, overlapping colour and cancelling out one colour with another. Colour becomes
buried in the layers of my paintings and, at times, I dig them back out to reveal my process.
In the above quote, Sillman expresses that “colour is a primary tool for negation” in her work,
however the role colour plays in my work is the opposite. I use vivid colours in my work as a
tool to assert myself in a space, to declare my presence. Colour is used to make a
statement.

As the “sketches” accumulated and grew or decreased in
size, pinning the pieces of paper up on the studio wall
side-by-side I noticed similarities between them. Looking
for areas where it seemed like one mark ended on a piece
and began or transformed on another, I taped the pieces
together and watched my composition grow.

Panel 4: Process

5. The sense of iteration is key to my process as thinking
through a painting (during the act of painting) or thinking
about a painting (after the act of painting) may lead to
the development of several new ideas for future works. This
inspiration can come from the way a mark is made or a
colour is used. It may also come from the direction a line
is drawn: ending suddenly at the edge of a surface but
implying that it can continue (like the yellow line in this
piece). LA-based artist, Laura Owens, whose abstract
paintings combine handmade, silkscreened and digital mark
making, expands on this idea:

What’s interesting about the making of the painting is
that every step along the way, you’re recalibrating

the choices you’ve just made. It’s an activity in
which you’re watching yourself; you’re doing a close
reading of, and response to, your own decisions
(Enright, “Painting in an Expanded Field”).

Painting is a space for reflection. Sifting through my own
visual archive, I examine choices made in previous works
and respond to them in new works. The transformation from
flat, graphic, small Photoshop sketch to large and textured
painting presents challenges, as paint behaves in ways that
isn’t pre-planned, but it is exciting. As each colour is
added or a gesture is made, the affect on the surface must
be considered, which may force a recalibration of how the
material is being used or what I am expecting of the
outcome. Through this reflection, aspects of the
composition that perhaps went unnoticed seem to reveal a
whole new set of possibilities. Owens continues, “It’s as
if you’ve just opened a door to a series of new rooms that
you didn’t know existed in your house. What had seemed to
be a small closet, something that I’ve passed by, turns out
to be a serious addition.” (Enright). This awareness or
observational method is how A piece of pie (an aerial view)
came together. Each element of the painting is placed on
the surface as a response to an initial action, which is
how the composition builds. When a painting is complete,
the next piece becomes a reaction to the action that was

done in the first painting. I pull elements that are
working well in one piece and consider how I can develop
them further, turning the process into an exploration of
paint and materials.

Since my dad moved to Canada he has been purchasing lottery tickets –
everyday. Most days, he would go multiple times and purchase from multiple
locations across the Greater Toronto Area. Sometimes he would take road trips
and travel to various parts of Ontario or even across the border, specifically to
purchase these light yellow lottery tickets. Dad has never thrown a ticket out; he
has suitcases bursting at the seams filled with each and every ticket he has
bought over the years, the first one dating back to 1988. I know this because
two summers ago, my dad wanted to apply to break the Guinness World Record
for most lottery tickets bought and collected. My brothers, our friends and I
would sit in our living room, with thousands of yellow tickets spread across our
floor, and organize the lottery tickets by year. I couldn’t believe how well the
colour aged with just the slightest shift in hue between the initial tickets
purchased and the most recent ones. My dad never ended up applying, but he
has an extremely well organized collection of yellow lottery tickets.

I am extremely comfortable jumping into uncertainty and
approaching painting in fragments. This treatment of
materials and surfaces gives the sense that the composition
can continue to grow or be rearranged at any given time.
Working with multiple surfaces means panels can be replaced
or turned upside-down; the possibilities are endless as the
work comes together like a puzzle; unfixed. This work on

paper was an important step in the process because I
realized certain parts of the painting were not working
well so using a blade, in one swift movement, I cut out the
areas I was unsatisfied with. American filmmaker and
painter, David Lynch expresses his thoughts on the process
of action and reaction, “this is the thing you hope to keep
alive. And there’s got to be a freedom to say, that didn’t
work, it’s got to go. Then in the process of destruction, a
beautiful new thing can emerge […]” (Enright, “Dark
Enlightenment”). The action of cutting into my paper opened
up the whole painting. I began to question, what else could
be combined to create the composition and in what other
ways could it grow? This is when I started combining
surfaces.

Panel 5: Process

6. The gradient background for this paper piece (53 x 72 in.)
was created using golden yellow, bright orange and pink
spray paint. Combining two shades of blue with some pumice
medium for texture, I painted a funnel shape. Before the
paint dried, using a white oil stick I sketched lines
loosely, breaking up the blue surface and mimicking other
lines within the larger composition of the painting. I
experimented with mixing white oil and acrylic paint into
cold wax medium, which caused some bits of acrylic paint to
congeal. Because of this, when I applied it to the surface
of the paper, a new texture within the medium was created.
Stepping back from the surface, the blue funnel shape was,
visually, too loud so I incorporated an organic white form

to quiet the blue and tie the composition together. Aware
the white shape could become too dominant; I ‘cut into’ the
shape and placed the cut out to the right of the
composition.

Panel 6: Process

7. (7, 8 &10) These plywood surfaces served to complete the
edges of the painting; to fill in gaps and provide a frame.
At this stage I explored everything I was interested in
with the painting and was no longer stimulated to push
further. Taking the knowledge I gained from the process I
was ready to find a new way to apply it. Artist Shahzia
Sikander expresses her thoughts on image making in an
interview, she says:

I like the idea of exhausting an image. And to
generate as many combinations as I can through the
usage of limited vocabulary…And not necessarily just
repeating them in the same way, but through repetition
create different formations (“Shahzia Sikander”,
MoMa).

This idea of exhausting an image, pushing a composition, a
line or a shape as far as possible is what motivates me to
continue painting. At times, the task at hand seems
intimidating – the chaos of mark-making, the layers and
colours that need to be peeled back amongst the destruction
and reconstruction of the surface until the core of the
piece is discovered. Through these iterations I figure out
what truly fascinated me from the start, whether it’s a
line, shape, texture or colour.

9.

I experimented with paint pouring techniques for this wood
panel, by mixing three different colours in separate jars.
In order to manipulate how the colours interact with each
other, I mixed water into one, soil into another and matte
medium into the last, which altered the speed of paint
flow. Placing the surface on the floor, I poured the paint
and lifted the surface, tilting the panel on an angle. Once
the paint started to drip off the edge, I laid it flat to
stop the paint flow. Not knowing what I wanted to use this
panel for, I set it aside for several weeks before
considering it for A piece of pie (an aerial view).

	
  

I didn’t get my first job until I was 23 years old. I wasn’t allowed at an earlier age;
my parents told me to focus on school and only school. One focus. As a
teenager, I was eager to start working when I turned 16. I craved independence
and wanted to do something for myself; to have some control over my life. So, in
my third year of undergrad I started my very first job working at Party City for the
Halloween season. We were given these obnoxiously bright orange t-shirts to
wear during our shifts, but I didn’t care. Excited for every shift, I wore the t-shirt
with pride knowing how long I’d wanted to feel this freedom. I needed to fulfill
my burning desire to make something of my own.	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  
	
  

WORKS	
  CITED	
  
	
  
Barr	
  Jr.,	
  Alfred	
  H.	
  Extract	
  from	
  catalogue	
  introduction,	
  Cubism	
  and	
  Abstract	
  Art	
  (New	
  
York:	
  The	
  Museum	
  of	
  Modern	
  Art,	
  1936);	
  reprinted	
  paperback	
  edition	
  (Cambridge,	
  
Massachusetts:	
  The	
  Belknap	
  Press	
  of	
  Harvard	
  University	
  Press,	
  1986)	
  11-­‐19.	
  
	
  
“Beatriz	
  Milhazes	
  discusses	
  her	
  art	
  and	
  inspirations	
  in	
  her	
  native	
  Brazil.”	
  Youtube,	
  
uploaded	
  by	
  Pérez	
  Art	
  Museum	
  Miami,	
  19	
  Sept.	
  2014,	
  
https://youtu.be/q4dGf1pgHhU?list=PLK0363mTHIdw3PyrNDT7T1SppCN0XcUsV.	
  
	
  
“Brief	
  Profile.”	
  The	
  Singh	
  Twins,	
  2018,	
  
https://www.singhtwins.co.uk/about/profile.html.	
  	
  
	
  
Chua,	
  Lawrence.	
  Julie	
  Mehretu.	
  BOMB	
  Magazine.	
  1	
  Apr.	
  2005,	
  
https://bombmagazine.org/articles/julie-­‐mehretu/.	
  
	
  
Enright,	
  Robert.	
  Dark	
  Enlightenment:	
  An	
  Interview	
  with	
  David	
  Lynch.	
  Border	
  
Crossings.	
  Aug.	
  2018,	
  https://bordercrossingsmag.com/article/dark-­‐enlightenment.	
  
	
  
Enright,	
  Robert.	
  Painting	
  in	
  an	
  Expanded	
  Field:	
  An	
  Interview	
  with	
  Laura	
  Owens.	
  
Border	
  Crossings.	
  Aug.	
  2018,	
  https://bordercrossingsmag.com/article/painting-­‐in-­‐
an-­‐expanded-­‐field.	
  

Hampton,	
  Chris.	
  For	
  Toronto	
  artist	
  Nep	
  Sidhu,	
  the	
  work	
  is	
  about	
  history,	
  culture	
  and	
  
preservation.	
  The	
  Star.	
  8	
  Feb.	
  2019,	
  
https://www.thestar.com/entertainment/visualarts/opinion/2019/02/08/for-­‐
toronto-­‐artist-­‐nep-­‐sidhu-­‐the-­‐work-­‐is-­‐about-­‐history-­‐culture-­‐and-­‐preservation.html.	
  	
  
	
  
Heilmann,	
  Mary.	
  ‘Looking	
  at	
  Pictures’,	
  The	
  All	
  Night	
  Movie	
  (Zürich:	
  Galerie	
  Hauser	
  
and	
  Wirth,	
  1999)	
  7.	
  	
  	
  	
  	
  
	
  
hooks,	
  bell.	
  Feminist	
  Theory:	
  From	
  Margin	
  to	
  Center,	
  Boston,	
  MA	
  South	
  End	
  Press,	
  
1984.	
  	
  
	
  
Jacolbe,	
  Jessica.	
  “Three	
  Cheers	
  for	
  the	
  Radical	
  Women	
  of	
  Abstract	
  Expressionism!”	
  
VICE.	
  24	
  Sept.	
  2018,	
  https://garage.vice.com/en_us/article/nemek8/radical-­‐
women-­‐art.	
  
	
  
“Mary	
  Heilman:	
  Biography.”	
  303	
  Gallery.	
  
https://www.303gallery.com/artists/mary-­‐heilmann/biography	
  
	
  
McEvilley,	
  Thomas.	
  “Thirteen	
  Ways	
  of	
  Looking	
  at	
  a	
  Blackbird.”	
  Excerpted	
  from	
  Art	
  &	
  
Discontent:	
  Theory	
  at	
  the	
  Millennium.	
  1993.	
  
	
  

Mzezewa,	
  Tariro.	
  “Overlooked	
  No	
  More:	
  Amrita	
  Sher-­‐Gil,	
  a	
  Pioneer	
  of	
  Indian	
  Art.”	
  
The	
  New	
  York	
  Times.	
  20	
  June	
  2018,	
  
https://www.nytimes.com/2018/06/20/obituaries/amrita-­‐shergil-­‐dead.html.	
  
	
  
“Paintings	
  That	
  Go	
  on	
  Somewhere	
  Else:	
  Beth	
  Letain.”	
  Borderviews.	
  Border	
  Crossings.	
  
Aug.	
  2018,	
  https://bordercrossingsmag.com/article/paintings-­‐that-­‐go-­‐on-­‐
somewhere-­‐else.	
  
	
  
“Rest	
  in	
  Power.”	
  Sandeep	
  Johal,	
  2017,	
  https://www.sandeepjohal.com/rest-­‐in-­‐
power-­‐20.	
  	
  
	
  
“Sarindar	
  Dhaliwal	
  :	
  Slide	
  and	
  Video	
  Presentation	
  -­‐	
  Chandigarh	
  Lalit	
  Kala	
  Akademi.”	
  
Youtube,	
  uploaded	
  by	
  LalitKalaAkademi	
  Chandigarh,	
  22	
  May	
  2013,	
  
https://youtu.be/AcT9U0m9-­‐JQ.	
  	
  	
  	
  
	
  
“Seminars	
  with	
  Artists:	
  Amy	
  Sillman	
  |	
  Live	
  from	
  the	
  Whitney.”	
  Youtube,	
  uploaded	
  by	
  
Whitney	
  Museum	
  of	
  American	
  Art,	
  12	
  Nov.	
  2014,	
  
https://youtu.be/Stk38nsVyos?list=PLK0363mTHIdw3PyrNDT7T1SppCN0XcUsV.	
  
	
  
“Shahzia	
  Sikander:	
  Gods,	
  Griffins	
  and	
  Cowboy	
  Boots.	
  AN	
  INTERVIEW	
  WITH	
  
SHAHZIA	
  SIKANDER:	
  The	
  Complete	
  Transcript.”	
  Museum	
  of	
  Modern	
  Art,	
  
https://www.moma.org/interactives/redstudio/interviews/shahzia/transcript/#.	
  	
  	
  
	
  

St	
  Clair,	
  Kassia.	
  The	
  Secret	
  Lives	
  of	
  Colour.	
  John	
  Murray	
  (Publishers),	
  2016.	
  
	
  
	
  
WORKS	
  CONSULTED	
  	
  
	
  
	
  
Batchelor,	
  David.	
  Chromophobia.	
  London:	
  Reaktion,	
  2000.	
  
	
  
Crimp,	
  Douglas.	
  Extract	
  from	
  ‘The	
  End	
  of	
  Painting’,	
  October,	
  no.	
  16	
  (Spring	
  1981)	
  69-­‐
76.	
  	
  
	
  
Dumas,	
  Marlene.	
  ‘Women	
  and	
  Painting’,	
  Parkett,	
  no.	
  37	
  (1993)	
  140.	
  
	
  
Enright,	
  Robert.	
  The	
  Structure	
  of	
  Connecting:	
  An	
  Interview	
  with	
  Holger	
  Kalberg.	
  
Border	
  Crossings.	
  Aug.	
  2018,	
  https://bordercrossingsmag.com/article/the-­‐
structure-­‐of-­‐connecting.	
  	
  
	
  
Gauguin,	
  Paul.	
  Extract	
  from	
  ‘Notes	
  on	
  Colour’	
  (Tahiti,	
  1896-­‐98)	
  in	
  Gauguin,	
  Écrits	
  
d’un	
  sauvage,	
  ed.	
  Daniel	
  Guérin	
  (Paris:	
  Gallimard,	
  1974);	
  trans.	
  Eleanor	
  Levieux,	
  The	
  
Writings	
  of	
  a	
  Savage	
  (New	
  York:	
  Viking	
  Press,	
  1978)	
  138-­‐46.	
  	
  
	
  
Grosse,	
  Katharina	
  and	
  Jonathan	
  Watkins.	
  Extracts	
  from	
  ‘How	
  to	
  Start	
  and	
  Stop	
  
Painting’,	
  in	
  Katharina	
  Grosse	
  (Wolfratshausen,	
  Germany:	
  Edition	
  Minerva	
  Hermann	
  
Farnung,	
  2002)	
  24-­‐35.	
  	
  
	
  

Higgie,	
  Jennifer.	
  8	
  Painters	
  on	
  Painting.	
  Frieze.	
  11	
  Jan.	
  2013,	
  
https://frieze.com/article/8-­‐painters-­‐painting.	
  
	
  
“In	
  The	
  Making:	
  Divya	
  Mehra.”	
  CBC	
  Gem,	
  2018,	
  https://gem.cbc.ca/media/in-­‐the-­‐
making/season-­‐1/episode-­‐8/38e815a-­‐00f773034d6.	
  
	
  
“Kerry	
  James	
  Marshall:	
  In	
  Conversation	
  |	
  Tate	
  Talks.”	
  Youtube,	
  uploaded	
  by	
  Tate	
  
Talks,	
  4	
  June	
  2018,	
  
https://youtu.be/4c4Z3U8WVLQ?list=PLK0363mTHIdw3PyrNDT7T1SppCN0XcUs
V.	
  
	
  
“Laura	
  Owens	
  LA	
  Studio	
  Tour.”	
  Youtube,	
  uploaded	
  by	
  BLOUIN	
  ARTINFO,	
  17	
  Feb.	
  
2013,	
  
https://youtu.be/3XWTzk_YnvA?list=PLK0363mTHIdw3PyrNDT7T1SppCN0XcUsV.	
  
	
  
Milhazes,	
  Beatriz	
  and	
  Christian	
  Lacroix.	
  Extracts	
  from	
  ‘Christian	
  Lacroix	
  in	
  
conversation	
  with	
  Beatriz	
  Milhazes’,	
  in	
  Beatriz	
  Milhazes	
  –	
  Avenida	
  Brasil	
  
(Kerguéhennec,	
  France:	
  Domaine	
  de	
  Kerguéhennec,	
  2004)	
  62-­‐3;	
  66;	
  71.	
  
	
  
Oehlen,	
  Albert	
  and	
  André	
  Butzer.	
  Extracts	
  from	
  “We	
  Won’t	
  Let	
  Phantoms	
  Splotch	
  
Our	
  Sweaters:	
  A	
  Conversation	
  between	
  André	
  Butzer	
  and	
  Albert	
  Oehlen’,	
  trans.	
  
George	
  Frederick	
  Takis,	
  in	
  Albert	
  Oehlen	
  –	
  Terminale	
  Erfrischung:	
  Computercollagen	
  
und	
  Malerei	
  (Hannover:	
  Kestner	
  Gesellschaft/Holzwarth	
  Publications,	
  2001)	
  n.p.	
  	
  	
  

	
  
“Rana	
  Begum's	
  Exploration	
  of	
  Color,	
  Space,	
  and	
  Light	
  |	
  Brilliant	
  Ideas	
  Ep.	
  73.”	
  
Youtube,	
  uploaded	
  by	
  Bloomberg	
  Markets	
  and	
  Finance,	
  20	
  Feb.	
  2018,	
  
https://youtu.be/r0MSNwzAyYI?list=PLK0363mTHIdw3PyrNDT7T1SppCN0XcUsV.	
  
	
  
Ruskin,	
  John.	
  Extracts	
  from	
  ‘Letter	
  I:	
  On	
  First	
  Practice’	
  and	
  ‘Letter	
  III:	
  On	
  Colour	
  and	
  
Composition’,	
  The	
  Elements	
  of	
  Drawing	
  (London:	
  Smith,	
  Elder	
  &	
  Co.,	
  1857)	
  5-­‐7;	
  
194-­‐6.	
  	
  
	
  
“The	
  Case	
  for	
  Abstraction	
  |	
  The	
  Art	
  Assignment	
  |	
  PBS	
  Digital	
  Studios.”	
  Youtube,	
  
uploaded	
  by	
  The	
  Art	
  Assignment,	
  28	
  Jul.	
  2016,	
  
https://youtu.be/96hl5J47c3k?list=PLK0363mTHIdw3PyrNDT7T1SppCN0XcUsV.	
  	
  
	
  	
  	
  
Varnedoe,	
  Kirk.	
  Extracts	
  from	
  ‘Why	
  Abstract	
  Art’	
  (the	
  first	
  in	
  Varnedoe’s	
  series	
  of	
  
A.W.	
  Mellon	
  Lectures,	
  delivered	
  at	
  the	
  National	
  Gallery	
  of	
  Art,	
  Washington,	
  DC,	
  in	
  
Spring	
  2003);	
  reprinted	
  in	
  Kirk	
  Varnedoe,	
  Pictures	
  of	
  Nothing:	
  Abstract	
  Art	
  Since	
  
Pollock	
  (Princeton:	
  Princeton	
  University	
  Press,	
  2006)	
  20-­‐45.	
  	
  
	
  
Walsh,	
  Meeka	
  and	
  Robert	
  Enright.	
  The	
  Worth	
  of	
  Living	
  and	
  Loving:	
  An	
  Interview	
  with	
  
Marlene	
  Dumas.	
  Border	
  Crossings.	
  Aug.	
  2018,	
  
https://bordercrossingsmag.com/article/the-­‐worth-­‐of-­‐living-­‐and-­‐loving.