#PASSION: “I LIKE THE IDEA OF BRINGING CHILLS TO THE BODY” – IN CONVERSATION WITH TAÍNA CRUZ

#PASSION: “I LIKE THE IDEA OF BRINGING CHILLS TO THE BODY” – IN CONVERSATION WITH TAÍNA CRUZ

Interview by Sina Braetz
All images courtesy of the artist

By creating profound dialogues, she not only continues a family storytelling, but also addresses topics such as mysticism, generational trauma and colonialism. Between paintings, sculptures and 3D animation, she searches for new meanings in indigenous wisdom, using a lot of satire-horror elements. Having studied sculpture in Baltimore, she began painting after relocating to Chicago. Last fall, during Gallery Weekend, she had her first solo show in Berlin. Now, the 28-year-old is back in school to explore and improve her practices.

Taína is in her studio when she answers my videocall with this positive, almost childlike energy – something that her dog also possesses. At times, he jumps into the frame, as if he wants to contribute. A (passionate) conversation about historical lines, horror movies, and the power in playing tricks.

Sina Braetz: How is school going, Taína?

Taína Cruz: It’s going well. I’m taking great advantage of the studio visits; we have about four in a week with the faculty and it is really important for me to get their feedback, especially considering that with a solo studio practice, you don’t really get that much of critical feedback. Also, being in a cohort of really talented artists is great, too, you just feel how everyone is so dedicated to their practice.

You grew up in New York, what are your most profound memories of that time?

The whole city was like a playground for us. New York was definitely a big influence on me and my art. My parents were artists, too; they met at FIT (Fashion Institute of Technology), both worked in the design and garment industry. New York really combined a lot of the arts and music and fashion so I grew up with all that exposure; it was so nourishing and fulfilling to know that I, too, could position myself in a world of entertainment. I really had a lot of fun growing up, but I also saw the ups and downs of the city – it was so loud and the exposure was always in your face.

How did you experience the magical piece of culture in Harlem?

Harlem is a very storytelling area; you get a chance to form a community around those who really have generational wisdom and knowledge. And that’s something that has really stuck with me throughout the years. I think those who have seen my work at an early stage were just people in my community and neighborhood; building those long lasting relationships was super helpful for me. It was a tight community, but at the same time, you don’t know everyone. That leaves a nice mystery of what it is that you know and what you don’t know. Also, Harlem is a place that is ever changing, nothing is ever static.

How do you see the concept of exclusivity versus inclusivity?

I am really appreciative of having had a good education and nurturing environment to become a good artist. My family wanted me to continue the family storytelling, so I found myself in that role of maintaining family secrets and wisdoms. I just needed to find whatever possible way to obtain it. My work tends to have a lot of style and I think that is due to that type of exposure – seeing very wealthy, elite spaces and noticing what kind of interactions happen in those spaces and seeing that comparative to the city that has these very strict boundaries of high class, low class and middle class areas. The city really makes it so apparent who has money and who doesn’t; you can go from one block to the next and see those great disparities. My dad lives in the Bronx and it is one of the only boroughs that hasn’t really gone through major gentrification. It contains an intense amount of history; it can still be found within the building structures or the abandoned properties. I went to school in Brooklyn Heights, which is a really nice area, but on the train ride home to my dad in the Bronx, I always saw those great separations. I just spent my time documenting and sketching in my journal.

When did you start using the internet as a tool for your work?

I have to say that the internet was really substantial, the online communities were really flourishing back then, a sense of social presence and community building was starting to form. I realized that at a very early age and have kept that with me always. The internet has totally changed my psyche, for better or for worse, in terms of what is to be expected and not – this is what my work talks about. You think you may understand the painting, but really, there’s just so much more to say about it.

So many layers to explore! Do you still use the internet as a direct source for your work?

The internet has always been like a second tool for me. I definitely use it less while I’m at school; maybe it’s just because I don’t have the same luxury or leisure time to surf the web anymore, so I am using my sketchbook now a lot lately. I still use Photoshop heavily, a tool they taught us in elementary school. It definitely has allowed me to use it more intuitively. If I need to change a background, a color shift or a body, this idea of manipulation is easier for me to do with digital tools.

How do you approach the use of different media to express your vision the best?

Lately, I’m trying to think about the ways in which the painting can be sculptural and I have a really fun time exploring that space. The past months in school, I have been thinking about an installation work that utilizes all five senses to its fullest capacity, so I can potentially just activate paintings to a more ephemeral quality. In general, I look at my work in the long term, like 50 years down the road, 100 years – what do I want to be shown? I ask myself that question constantly; I believe that there needs to be an accumulation of objects with painting and video and sound.

Do you look at it as a historical line?

Absolutely. Right now, it still feels like a small piece compared to the big vision.

You have family from Puerto Rico and North Carolina as well. In your work “Woodland Sermon,” you explored African American and Puerto Rican folklore and ritual traditions in their present-day manifestations. What made you create this body of work?

My dad’s family is from Puerto Rico but since generations, he’s also in New York. It means a lot to me to have my connection to the island, especially since my name means “the first people in the Caribbean.” My parents knew what they were doing. My mom’s family is from the South – North Carolina, Washington DC, Maryland area, which shaped what the South means to me. Going there in the summertime and spending months in North Carolina, then immediately coming back to the city, made me recognize so many similarities but also just huge differences. I mean, obviously, in the city, you can’t really run in the middle of the woods at midnight under a full moon, but the South gave me those experiences. When I immediately returned to the skyscrapers, I had these very gigantic, impactful visuals in my head that have stuck with me for a long time.

Beautiful. Apart from all of that, there is also lots of darkness in your work. You use horror movie elements in your work a lot; what is the conversation you are trying to create by that?

This definitely is a huge overall theme – horror movie elements allow people to find an easy entry point to my work and it is a useful tool to describe something quickly, at least for now. It’s a way of having a conversation that many people will understand: People know what a witch, an elf or a vampire looks like, it is about world building, whether that’s internally or externally. I am definitely thankful for these horror movie creatures and characters within my overall interest; they also never scare me, my work really isn’t scary at all. I rather find it amusing to be like, “Oh, this is just everyday life, this is just a common, mundane experience.” I like the idea of bringing chills to the body. Horror movies definitely evoke a sensorial experience in the human body and I want my work to bring forth those immediate emotional responses and reactivity. Comedy is a great tool, too. I think it all provides healing.

In which way?

I’ve witnessed the truth of fantasy, magical realism, or tropes and ideas. My experiences have been very horrific, but at the same time, I found them to be very “movie-like horrific.” Capturing those moments was serious to me, but then I also had a different thought on this that allowed me to see a lot of fun in it, too, and many other emotions besides being scared.

With this new issue, we explore the nature of “passion.” What does the word passion evoke inside of you, what does passion mean to you?

I’m a very emotional person, it feels like wanting to talk about the moon and stars, but the stars really have aligned me to be this passionate, emotional person, especially when I have something presented to me that I know I could talk about or feel I could contribute. I see that within the work and that has allowed me to be very expression-based regarding my practice in general. And then, at times, I find it also to be a hindrance when I need to do something a little bit more specific, so I have to shift to a medium that allows me to be flowy.

I am actively working my way through this constantly, it is like an everyday meditative process of how to just find passion even in the extreme, dark, slow, mundane times.

So, passion for you is something rather light as opposed to a potential source of destruction?

Yes, but there certainly is a thing of having too much passion, whether that’s by external or internal forces. We just have to know how to actively think about ourselves and our bodies and what works best for us. This takes a long time and probably we’ll never really understand what that means. I think at least knowing myself, I do realize the areas in which I am very inclined to feel passionate about creating something versus when I don’t. And it’s really how do I navigate those feelings, how to properly hear myself out so I can make the best work possible, no matter what, even if that’s going to take me until my deathbed. I strive towards that goal endlessly and I think that’s a very romantic way of living.

You referred to a meditative ritual of passion, something that can be a source of creativity in everyday moments. Is there a specific spiritual ritual that you use for yourself?

I do have many rituals to train and cherish the self. I do a lot of active breathing exercises to even invoke that feeling of passion – I use the breath to really reach these altered states of emotions and consciousness. I love to think about the body as a tool to enhance and build life.

In your work, “How to breathe ecstasy,” you talk about entering a state of joy and extending dimensional experiences just through breathing. As we find ourselves within a big trend of psychedelics, do you think there is a bigger shift of consciousness happening in our society?

I’m taking a lot of classes right now that deal with psychedelics as well. I think we just all love to basically hear about ourselves to really figure out our true human nature and psychedelics can be a great entry point. For me, it is a lot about lived experiences and growing up in a big city. You meet so many different characters who just migrated from various parts around the world and you learn how to interact with so many characters. I’m finding those characters to be very fulfilling in my storytelling – the Upper East Side ladies or the Upper West Side families, the Wall Street people, they all have very distinct personalities. They nourish my art, but when I go into the studio, I enter a moment of pure silence. I just need my very own thoughts to create something. I think people are often afraid of silence since they will be hearing many of their own thoughts and, as we all know, at times, thoughts can play tricks on us. I think I like to play a trick on the viewers with my work.

How do you play a trick on them?

Even within my portraitures, I like the feeling of uneasiness sometimes. I think there is an uneasiness about a person making jokes in front of an audience and you know that this person is either going to survive or be killed. There is a parallel to my work, too. I find enjoyment out of that state of suspense that I place myself in – anticipating the people’s reaction to my work. Also, playing that trick on me represents the idea of trying not to reveal too much all at once, but to leave some areas of abstraction that takes away some clarity.

So, how much reality do you really reveal in your work?

I like creating works that have a dialogue with each other. Sometimes, I don’t even understand that dialogue; other times, it reveals things I would write into my journal that I don’t necessarily want to be revealed. Knowing how to work with the digital space and that sense of worldbuilding, of 3D animating a fantasy world, I also more and more love to connect this part with the physical painting world.

Do you have an absolute dream project you’d like to realize at some point?

I feel like any time I make a sculpture, it is a dream project since it requires a few specific working circumstances that make you be less flexible. I also love kinetics and machinery, to create sculptures that move and activate them, give them humanistic movements – a machine, for example, that can breathe. My big dream is to work with an engineer instead of DIY’ing my own motor with a battery. I would love to work with a professional engineer on a large scale moving object from a video or a painting that I’ve made.