A Lovely Conversation with Nadia Ayari

Courtesy of Artist

Nadia Ayari is a Tunisian and American Visual Artist based in New York City. She also co-runs S2A, a project space and collective based in New York. Nadia’s artwork explores the role of protagonists while focusing on certain political landscapes. Nadia can use metaphors with brilliant colors to create a vibrant narrative through abstract and sculptural dimensions to surfaces. Nadia’s artwork has been exhibited nationally and internationally in art spaces such as the Taymour Grahne Gallery, The Third Line, Dubai Luce Gallery, the Monya Rowe Gallery, and elsewhere. Her most recent group exhibits have been in 2021 at Trove, Artsy, Miami Beach, and MACAAL, Marrakesh, Morocco, MoMA PS1, Queens, NY. She has participated in the 12th International Cairo Biennale, the 3rd Thessaloniki Biennale, and Art Dubai Projects. Nadia’s artwork is held in collections internationally in art spaces such as The X Museum, Beijing, China, The Scantland Collection, Columbus, Ohio, Fundación Medianoche0, Grenada, Barjeel Foundation, Sharjah, UAE State Museum of Contemporary Art, Thessaloniki, Greece Saatchi Collection, London, UK. Also, Nadia has held residencies at A.i.R Dubai, Dubai, UAE, Fine Arts Work Center, Provincetown, MA, Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture, Madison, ME. She has an upcoming show at the Nina Johnson Gallery, Miami, and an upcoming group show at the Fine Arts Work Center, Provincetown, MA. I had the pleasure of asking Nadia about the use of narrative in her artwork, how she finds art in everyday life, and how she uses sculpture to explore conceptual narratives.

 

UZOMAH: How do you use abstraction to create a vivid narrative in your artwork?

NADIA:  As I compose my paintings, be it in oil or fresco, I consider the abstract qualities of the forms I am placing in the picture plane. I am generally focusing on the overall balance of the work. As I like to call them, these forms or protagonists are based on flora and therefore are “representational,” but while I am composing the works, that almost feels like happenstance. Another way to answer the question would be to say that in the initial phases of the painting, I prioritize the formal qualities of the protagonists; their shape, their color, their value, and how they are interacting visually with the other elements of the painting. I don’t linger at this stage on their meaning. This is not to say that I disregard meaning, but the times I have let narrative lead the configuration of the compositions, the paintings have been awkward, less balanced than the others. So in a way, the formal elements of the painting are its narrative force.


U: How does the medium of sculpture allow you to explore your conceptual narratives?

N:  I think I use sculpture in two ways. The first is that it gives me the opportunity to create a different version of the oil paintings- a smaller, water-based, untextured image in which the same forms are undergoing or performing a similar narrative than in the painting. The second way the sculptures breathe life into the oil paintings is that so far, they have manifested out of a very heavy material like marble or cast glass. Though I’ve done this intuitively, I think engaging the viewer’s bodies alerts them to their sense of touch, which in turn makes them more attuned to the highly textured quality of the oil paintings.

Orbs I, oil on linen, 60 x 60 inches, 2021  Photo by onwhitewall.com 

U: What are the critical differences between painting on cotton vs. linen? Which is your preference and why?

N:  So linen is quite a bit stronger than cotton and more durable over time. I switched to linen in 2016 but to be honest, I did it more for its formal attributes than its durability. During that period, I was honing some of my practice’s details. I wanted to standardize a few elements like my stretcher bars and the overall look of my canvases. I am quite particular about my canvases’ profiles and had decided that that space be made up of raw material. Between canvas and linen, I liked the darker tone of the linen as it receded from the picture plane.


U: How has your culture and upbringing shaped who you are as an artist?

N:  Growing up in Tunis to a Tunisian father and American mother shaped me in innumerable ways - many of which, I am sure I remain unconscious even today. I am aware of some of the things I inherited from each of my parents. My father inculcated a way of contextualizing my life in political terms. My mother, who loves art, encouraged and nurtured creativity. And I think experiencing the power of language and how concepts, personalities, and interpersonal dynamics change from one language to the next has also left an indelible mark on me as an artist. 

Jetty I, oil on linen, 60 x 60 inches, 2020  Photo by onwhitewall.com 

U: What have been some defining moments in your career?

N:  I think one of the most important moments of my career was the year and a half two of my friends (who are also artists) and I ran an art space in New York City’s Lower East Side. It was during a period of my life when I was pretty down on the trajectory of my career. I was also overwhelmed with the events of the revolution in Tunisia and felt torn as a significant part of me wanted to go home, which led to me making some compromising personal choices. But taking care of other artists by putting together shows and events was a sort of salve. It had a healing quality. I ended up making some formative work during that time, some small, quietly built paintings that set me on the path I am currently on.  

U: Your art contains very layered and beautiful metaphors. How do you use specific colors to bring those thoughts to a universal presentation?

N:  This is a particularly compelling question because the color is the element for which I mainly rely on instinct, and many of the colors I use, feel predetermined by my taste. A friend has hinted that the colors in my works relate closely to the Mediterranean landscape in which I grew up. I can see why they said that but, to be honest, I don’t contextualize my palette choices to myself that way. I think about them rather abstractly and very intuitively. Light, on the other hand, is an element of which I am very aware and spend a lot of time defining and balancing the light in the paintings.   

Orbs I (detail), oil on linen, 60 x 60 inches, 2021  Photo by onwhitewall.com 


U: What about poetry impacts your art and inspires you to make it a part of your artwork?

N: I’m not the most voracious reader of poetry, but I like what I like. I have always been drawn to how poems use language to “paint a picture” whether abstractly or in a more narrative manner. And of course, I am compelled by how intrinsically political the medium is. I spent some time working alongside poets in a residency and was really fascinated by how they negotiated their practice in a contemporary setting. 

Kiss I, fresco on cast glass, 19 x 8.5 x 8.5 inches, 2021  Photo by onwhitewall.com 

U: How do you find the art in everyday life, like your use of bricks in your artwork?

N:  Oh, those bricks! After collecting them for a year and storing them for three, I ended up having to put them back out on the street because I needed the space. I used to think I was exclusively drawn to architectural materials and motifs, but now I am starting to think that I innately gravitate to heavy materials. Maybe materials with weight and mass intrinsically activate some part of my creative process? 


U: How has the creative process behind making art helped you reveal things about yourself, your culture, and your understanding of certain concepts and traditions of society?

N:  Making art has taught me a lot about failure and shame. Namely, that failure is a natural part of creativity and that instead of being ashamed of my failures, I can view them as indications of my efforts to do something I have not done before. 

For more information about Nadia’s artwork and upcoming exhibits please visit her site for updates.

 

Previous
Previous

A Refining Conversation with Olga Krimon

Next
Next

A Resplendent Conversation with Kahlil Robert Irving