010 - Maude Andrade Short Film

Maude is an Albuquerque mixed media painter who presents her work honestly and intelligently. I spent many hours filming Maude in her studio to offer a glimpse into her studio process. If there were ever a time to look to art for hope, inspiration, reflection, and honest work - now is the time. Enjoy the full short film here:

If you need a new focal point in your daily existence please investigate Maude's full portfolio at:

https://maude-andrade.com
https://www.etsy.com/shop/MaudeAndrade

Transcript

Maude Andrade:1:03

I've been making art since I was a kid, I don't know the earliest earliest, I would say maybe eight or ten [years old]. In Corrales. I remember a chair that I made with a cottonwood stump and some two by fours. I remember in other work with paint, definitely stitching, embroidery, you know, it was the 60s and 70s. So I had a jean jacket with rainbows and flowers. So manifesting something that didn't exist, that I think is pure joy. Even if it's maybe not up to par to go out in the world, you still made something from nothing, you had a piece of wood that you painted with white Gesso. And then you created this, this atmosphere on it. I obviously, don't paint things that are real in the world, let's say a chair or something. So that chair did exist. And it's very hard to paint that chair. But the things that I'm painting that are more abstract, oh, hopefully only they channeled through me and all the input in my life. So I think that's pretty magical, that that I get to do that for one and can do it and still keep wanting to do it. I'm grappling with mixed media, and to express who I am, I need various media. And who I am, comes out in all that media. And I need all of that the same way that I need words, and language. And each of those media makes me speak differently. I speak differently with acrylic. I speak differently with ink, and with oil paint. Soon as I feel in control of work that I'm doing, especially in painting, then I know it's over it, it gets stale. So I am constantly doing this dance of knowing techniques that I know and that are jumping off points and throwing myself curveballs to make myself be out of control in what I'm doing. Because I feel like when you come to a new series or when I come to a new series, I want that beginner's mind. And then when I've worked on a series, and it becomes too rote, that's when the magic is gone. And that's when you I have to stop. And then I have very consciously times when I've been very stuck, made rules to limit a color or a gesture or a brush or a substrate I changed something so that I forced myself to change. And I kind of welcome not knowing a technique, not knowing what I'm doing. And if I did feel in control, going into the studio and like I had mastered a whole bunch of techniques. I bet I would stop going in the studio altogether. Because really when I go in the studio, and this is the flip side of the joy of going in there There's a lot of berating that goes on, and challenging myself and that sometimes it's not a pleasant experience. I mean, I'm really hard on myself to move forward. I admire a lot of painters, where the less is more adage, is not their thing. And I love work like that I have some work of other artists, I think in my house that's like that. I have found over the years that I need those quiet spaces in the paintings. And then it may be that's also a game for me is to find... As I get more mature, and more decisive, and more confident in myself, the quiet spaces become more and more. And then when I see work, that is very distilled down and very minimal of other people's. And you see how much they edited out and what is important. I mean, that's pretty hard stuff to do. So that's always a challenge for me and a game I play with myself. If you keep this, does the things still hang together? Okay, well, what if you eliminate that what is essential? What isn't essential? And and I guess that ties into how I view the world right now, because we have so many options and watching movies and listening to this or what we can purchase, I think options in a lot of ways. There are too many. And I I want to distill those, and I go into the studio to have those those quiet spaces. Then in the work that I'm doing, it's also a way to focus people and to guide them into what they're what I want them to look at. Have to be brutal with yourself. You have to have the energy to do it. And it's just a constant questioning. Okay, I did this. Does this work? What's irritating me? Okay, remove that. Oh, I like that. But oh, I changed that. This doesn't work now. And you just you have to commit. It's about commitment. And it you cannot be wishy washy. And then the other litmus test for me is when I know something's a little weird, little odd, little quirky. That for me, makes me decide to keep it when something starts to feel safe. And even that I think, Oh, I know people would like that. Sometimes I get rid of it, because I think it's too safe. Let me back up. So what I just said about people liking something, and that coming into my head in the studio is a bad place to be. And so the fact that I said that, and that I do that is also part of the beginning of that answer that you have to keep deciding and be brutal with yourself and kick kick that out. I actually get kind of flummoxed when I have a really big panel in front of me. I don't do quite as well. I suspect that's practice. I don't practice enough. And yes, definitely edges, cause limits. But for me, sometimes limits create expansiveness And circling back even further being the contrarian that I am, there you go, give me a small painting and I'll make it look fucking big. It's a it's a game for with me, it's a game with what my, my time on this planet and I'm not playing against anybody else in the studio. It is purely a game about challenging myself and getting that high and seeing how far I can go seeing what I can pull together. I guess it's also really about pleasing myself. I'm a junkie. Okay, art is the drug. So I don't walk in there joyous necessarily. Sometimes I do walk in grateful. But I'm an addict, and I push paint. And when paint does what I want it to do or gets me to a new place. It's almost like travel. It's the same kind of high from traveling. That's the high and boy, I get it and I want more. And the next time you go into paint, maybe you don't get that high. So I just keep going back in there to to get those endorphins. FIN