Marianna Olague and Creative Duality
Mexican American artist, Marianna Olague, expresses the experience of immigrant communities in America and what that means for generations to follow. Olague’s strikingly vivid paintings of friends and family members are sure to inspire conversation.
KARDIA: Growing up, how was creativity nourished and/or encouraged in your family and community?
MARIANNA OLAGUE: I was fortunate enough to grow up with a father who was an artist, and an art teacher, so creativity was a natural pastime for my family. My sisters and I would spend a lot of time in my father’s studio watching him work and being given little projects to work on. Soon we began making things on our own like paper dolls and paper houses. My father also directed many community murals when I was growing up. Tagging along with him was often how we spent our summer.
En Pleno Día
2020, oil on canvas
Portrait of Olague’s father, artist and teacher.
K: When did you start really diving into artmaking with serious intention? Was there a specific catalyst for you, or did you naturally gravitate to a more routine process?
MO: I approached art making seriously first when I was a child, and then again when I was an adult. The time in-between is when I doubted myself and felt forced to pursue other interests. Though my passion for art never wavered, seeing how my parents struggled made me want to be more practical in my life choices. Then, in my first semester of college, after attending my first art class, I felt that overwhelming desire again to prove myself in the arts. I couldn’t ignore it any longer.
K: Gatekeepers, your current show at the David Klein Gallery in Detroit, features a number of new paintings that look at immigrant life in and around the border city of El Paso, Texas. We were really intrigued by your invitation to family members, friends and neighbors to sit for these works. How do they personify what it means to be Mexican American in the 21st century?
MO: Each of the individuals in my paintings must navigate their duality on a daily basis. Being Mexican American means you reside in two worlds that seem constantly at odds with each other, especially when living so close to the border. As first and second generation Americans, they speak English and Spanglish and work labor intensive jobs. Their personal style and attitude also emulate the Chicanos and Chicanas of the previous generation.
Battle Ink
2020, oil on canvas
K: We were particularly struck by the painting, Mom Delivers Grubhub. That expression on your mother’s face and her bearing and posture as she climbs the steps could keep a novelist busy for a month. What do you see in her face?
MO: My mother’s life would totally make a great novel! When I look at that painting, I’m actually reminded of all the stories my mother has told me about her life. She was raised by a single mother of 4, ran away from home at 17, joined the military and was homeless during a rough period of her life when she had two young children to care for. Her face speaks of exhaustion yes, but also unwavering strength and determination. Growing up poor and underprivileged has given her an edge and a hardness that I can’t help but admire.
Mom Delivers Grubhub
2020, oil on canvas
K: How has Gatekeepers affected the subjects of these paintings – friends and family members?
MO: I think it has given them unexpected perspective on their lives. My sister Maya, for example, never thought of her job as a cashier as anything special or noteworthy. Yet suddenly, seeing herself depicted in Customer Service Representative gave her a visibility she hadn’t expected.
Customer Service Representative
2020, oil on canvas
What conversations about immigration and identity are you having with those who view your paintings that have made an impact on you?
MO: The day my show Gatekeepers opened was also the day Joe Biden was declared the winner of the presidential election. You can imagine how many of the conversations that night were centered on the rights of immigrants and their families. What struck me most was the wonderful acknowledgement from people that immigrants, and children of immigrants, are some of the most hardworking people on the planet. It made me proud to be a positive contributor to our story.
K: When you’re in the studio, what does your day look like? Do you have a specific routine you stick to?
MO: It depends on what part of the process I’m in, but normally I start the day early and first do a little meditating to clear my head. I can’t have any distractions, so I ignore texts and calls throughout the day. Sometimes I’m so focused I forget to eat! But in the studio, I’m either playing with a million color combinations, using computer software to plan new compositions or simply painting. It can take a while for me to get into the “zone,” but once I do it’s hard for me to stop. My best studio days are like long marathons.
Olague in studio, El Paso, Texas.
K: What kinds of things bring inspiration to your life and work? What sparks joy in your heart? (In or out of the studio)
MO: Nothing brings me more joy than spending time with my family. It’s those moments of levity, and even sorrow, when I can see the stories I want to bring to life through my work. I also love flipping through old family photographs. Old photo albums are an instant source of inspiration for me.
K: Who are some artists that you look up to or are in awe of? What about them or their work do you connect with the most?
MO: Ever since I was little, I’ve looked up to the artist Gaspar Enríquez. He is a Mexican American artist from El Paso, TX. He’s good friends with my father and I visited his studio as a child and attended his art openings. He was the first truly successful artist I ever met. He specializes in airbrush and creates portraits of Chicanos and Chicano culture. In his work I saw my life reflected back at me and I have gone on to do the same.
K: If you could share some advice or info for your younger artist self, what would you say?
MO: Quit doubting yourself. I’m from the future and it all works out!
Roofero
2020, oil on canvas
K: What do you think is the greatest duty of an artist?
MO: I think the greatest duty of an artist is to document the present time and society as well as their own experiences for future generations to come.
K: When you are in the depths of art making, how does it feel for you? Are you invigorated? Tired and drained afterwards?
MO: For me, art making makes me feel balanced and grounded. The deeper I get the better my creativity flows. The rest of the world falls away and all that matters is the problem in the work. Afterwards, I feel mentally refreshed even if my body is tired.
K: When you experience a creative “block” how do you resolve it? Do you have any advice for artists struggling currently with an artist’s block?
MO: When I have a creative block, the best thing I can do is step away. My suggestion would be to not look at your own work for a while. Hide it away if you must! When you finally return, the solution will be there.
Olague studio, creating Battle Ink.
K: If you could imagine having the most enjoyable and fulfilling day, describe what that would be like. What kinds of things would you do?
MO: A perfect day would start with some yin yoga. I love stretching. Then I would go to the studio and have a magical session where everything just flowed effortlessly. It would be great to go on a hike at some point or visit a museum. To finish off the day I would go out to eat with my family where we, for once, would not fight over the bill!
K: What are some ways that your community can best support you as an artist?
MO: The best thing my community can do is keep giving voice and exposure to Latinx and Indigenous artists. Keep buying from these individuals and support their businesses when you can. They have not been given the same opportunities and are yet another group of undervalued people who need your attention.
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