An Interview with Colomba Klenner

Arastrania
Cannabis
Kiwi
Pixie Cup
Pumpkin

Colomba Klenner is a Boston-based painter and illustrator, pursuing a Painting Bachelors of Fine Arts at Massachusetts College of Art and Design. She was born in Santiago, Chile but spent a large amount of time in Singapore before settling in Boston to pursue her career. Living in such contrasting places has allowed her art to be influenced by a variety of cultures and physical environments. Colomba’s art explores natural elements such as animals, plants, fungi and even microfauna. In October 2023, her first solo exhibition, “Microscopic” was exhibited at the Banana Gallery in Boston, Massachusetts.


Charlise Bar-Shai: What made you want to become an artist?
Colomba Klenner: It took me a long time to realize that being an artist was possible. I have been drawing, painting, and making my whole life. Yet being a professional artist seemed like a pipe dream. I instead chose the “less risky” path of becoming a makeup artist instead, while living in Singapore. I got certified as an MUA but my career was short-lived. I found MassArt in 2019 and visiting Boston was incredibly inspiring to me. There is art in every corner of this city and it showed me that a career in visual arts was absolutely possible and even encouraged.

CB: I saw on your website that you’ve lived in Chile, Singapore, and the United States. Your body of work is very diverse and shows that you have a lot of influences. How has living in each location shaped your art?
CK: I am very drawn to organic subjects. As such my biggest influences from all the countries I’ve lived in present themselves in plants, flowers and fruits. For example, Singapore has incredible fruits and flowers I had never seen or heard of before because I had never been in the tropics. Because of Singapore, I am fascinated by orchids. They now present themselves in my work either literally or within my color palettes and shapes. It’s like that for all the countries I’ve lived in. I keep pictures of things that inspire me in folders and there are a vast amount of pictures of the South of Chile, Singapore and the Acadia National Park in Maine. Whenever I need inspiration I look at these little mood boards I’ve created for myself and pick elements and colors that I can adapt into my own practice.

CB: I want to say that I love your usage of contrasting colors, like in your pieces “Pixie Cup” and “Astrana.” How do you decide what colors you want to select for your pieces? Do you have a particular mood or tone you like to use color to achieve?
CK: Thank you, color theory is one of the most useful things I learned in art school. Most of the decisions that I make, including my color palettes, are carefully thought through. I do color studies for more complex pieces where I test out how using certain colors will impact the composition of my paintings. Mood is a big part of it too when I do color studies. Sometimes I may think “I want to make this in red, because it’s passionate” but it turns out when I do the color study it looks angry, so I know to change it to a pink. I think about what I want to covey and test it out. While all that is true and part of my process, there are certain color palettes I’m just naturally drawn to. I love green, as you can see in both “Pixie Cup” and “Astrana”, I love analogues cool color palettes (such as blue, purple, pink), and I love limited color palettes.

CB: I’d like to talk a bit about your “Microscopic” series. I’m really in love with your approach and how unique the subject matter is. Can you describe what your process was for creating these pieces?
CK: I really appreciate that. I’ve been working on “Microscopic” for about a year. When I started this collection it was just me playing around because I had seen a kiwi under a microscope and thought it was fascinating. I had a strong desire to paint it and was very intrigued. I later got interest from someone who wanted to buy that first painting and that’s when I figured out that if I enjoy doing it and people are interested, these pieces could become a collection or a larger project. That’s when I went out and bought a microscope and the real fun started. My process for the pieces is as follows: I go out into the world and find something I love. A mushroom, a flower, anything that intrigues me. I take a thin sample of whatever material I found on a microscope slide and I examine it thoroughly under my microscope. I record that process and go back later to find references of interesting colors, compositions and textures. I then start preparing to paint. I get a wood panel and cover it with mulberry paper first, this is an important step to create texture and a more visually interesting painting. Finally, I’m ready to start the actual painting.

CB: Speaking of “Microscopic” series. I saw that was your first solo exhibition last month. First, I want to say congratulations. Secondly, what was it like having a solo exhibition for the first time? Was it scary? Exciting?
CK: Thank you so much! Having my first solo exhibition was so exciting! And also scary, and also a little difficult. I had been in group shows before but a solo show proved to be very different. First, I had to handle all the curating and reception details by myself. I created the poster for the show, made some flyers and put the word out myself. I’m confident in my work and created work that I can say I truly love and I am truly proud, but that’s why it was scary. What if no one came? What if people didn’t like it? Am I completely delusional? Ultimately it was a success and some pieces sold. I had a lot of fun listening to people tell me which were their favorites and why. I look forward to putting “Microscopic” with additional pieces in another gallery someday and to plan the exhibit for my (still unreleased) new body of work sometime next year.

CB: What has been the biggest challenge you’ve faced as an artist so far?
CK: My biggest challenge would probably be finding that balance between the financial aspects of being an artist with the creative process and creative vision. As someone doing this full-time now I have to worry about things like taxes and the business side of being a practicing artist which is often not taught. There is also the other side which is that you have to make a living and get your work out there, the creative vision might get compromised because it’s up to someone else if it gets shown. My first solo exhibition proposal was “Sea Life” and it focused on an environmental criticism of the fishing industry. That didn’t take off perhaps because it was too controversial. I’m sure I will find the right gallery to show that work in due time. In the meantime I had “Microscopic” which wasn’t trying to criticize or educate but rather show observations that I found fascinating and thought the public would too. It is something to think about when doing creative work.

An Interview with Donna Vorreyer

An Interview with Donna Vorreyer

All Roads Lead to Somewhere
Atomic
Deciphering
Order and Chaos

Donna Vorreyer is the author of three full-length poetry collections: To Everything There Is (2020), Every Love Story is an Apocalypse Story (2016) and A House of Many Windows (2013), all from Sundress Publications. Recent work has appeared or is forthcoming in Ploughshares, Colorado Review, Harpur Palate, Baltimore Review, and Booth. Her visual art has been featured in North American Review, Waxwing, About Place, Pithead Chapel, and other journals. Donna currently lives and creates in the western suburbs of Chicago and runs the monthly online reading series A Hundred Pitchers of Honey.


Charlise Bar-Shai: What made you want to become a visual artist?
Donna Vorreyer: I have always loved to view visual art, and I was lucky enough to grow up with the Art Institute of Chicago just a short el ride away. I also used to love making visual art when I was young, and even won keys in some Scholastic Art competitions in junior high. But I moved away from it as I grew more interested in writing, and since I had limited time for creative pursuits as a full-time middle school teacher, the writing took precedence. I retired during the pandemic lockdown, and having so much time at home allowed me to start tinkering with some attempts at visual art: small daily sketches of things I had around me at home, some black and white grid portraits based on old photographs, some collage work with found material. The joy I got from that sort of creative work was less stressful and different from writing. I decided to take a class with poet Ciona Rouse and her sister, artist Lanecia Rouse Tinsley, and their encouragement to use what I knew from the writing process to explore the visual set me on a path to start creating more visual art. Over the past three years, I have used their encouragement (as well as online videos and tutorials) to try to grow as a visual artist, focusing mostly on abstract work. I do it mostly for the enjoyment of it, to see what I can learn, how I can grow, what themes emerge as I learn to experiment with shape, color, and texture.

CB: Have your written works inspired your visual pieces? Is there an overlap in your creative process?
DV: That’s an interesting question and the answer is no, not really. So far, it has been helpful for me to keep those two processes separate. I have been writing my whole life, and I have had some “success” as a writer, in terms of publication, so I feel a certain type of pressure when I’m writing, a pressure to make it “good,” to live up to what I’ve done in the past. I have no such ego about art. I can more easily mess up and laugh about it than I can with the written word. In that respect, making visual art is less stressful for me than writing, and I’d like to keep it that way.

Working on a poem has a completely different feel than working on a painting, but what writing and painting have in common is that they both start messy – just getting things down, not necessarily focused and certainly not precise. It is in the next steps that they diverge. When I write, I love to revise, to focus on the diction, the sound, the line breaks and form, sometimes over months, before deciding that a poem is done. Each of these moves is deliberate as I make my way toward a final piece that is doing what I want it to do. In making visual art, I have a tendency to experiment more, to add and remove elements until I have a pleasing arrangement, sometimes completely foregoing an original plan or idea to follow something that emerges in the making.

CB: Did your time as an educator influence your artistic process? Did your students inspire you? 
DV: My students always inspired me when I was teaching, not only with their own talents but with their joy and openness to the world, their ability to take risks and try things that were new to them.  In that way, I think that they have influenced my process in the sense that I have had to follow my own advice. I used to tell my students that no one could ever ask them for any more than their best, and that doing your best is what matters, even if it doesn’t have the result you want or expect. When I make a piece of visual art, I keep that mantra in my head, as things often don’t turn out how I want or expect them to, but I’ve found a way to embrace that and move forward from those “failures” and see what I can learn from the experience.

CB: Have you arranged a solo exhibition for your work? Do you have a plan for one?
DV: I still have a hard time calling myself an artist, and I also have absolutely no knowledge of navigating the world of art in that way. (I have noticed that it is very expensive to enter shows, etc., which makes me nervous.) But my local library will be exhibiting a collection of my work in the new year, and that is exciting to me. So far, I have stayed within the world of literary journals, which is familiar, in terms of sending my art into the world to see what others may enjoy. Who knows what the future might hold? 

CB: What has been the biggest challenge you’ve faced as an artist so far?
DV: The biggest challenge has been to let go of my inner critic. My good friend, writer and artist Kristin LaTour, has been so helpful to me in that respect—if it’s no good, it’s just paper. Throw it away. If it’s on canvas, paint over it. Just have fun. And I’ve also created a group of writer friends who also make visual art —we live all over the country, so we share in a group online where we are sending work, what we are making, how we are feeling about it. It’s helped me keep moving forward, to view myself as an artist, and to recognize that I don’t have to be a good representational illustrator to create something beautiful. 

CB: I want to discuss your piece “Order and Chaos.” I love the way you seamlessly blended painting and collage. Can you describe your process when creating it?
DV: “Order and Chaos” began with collaging pieces of an old dictionary page regarding Mathematics. I placed them haphazardly onto the paper, almost in defiance of the rules and order that Math requires.

The other layer began with creating painted papers in dark shades (mostly black) with hints of greens and blues. Once the papers were painted, using a brayer to leave the grainy texture, I ripped them into curved shapes before placing them in a cyclical pattern that was more orderly than the text pieces. I like that the piece can work in multiple directions and places the text almost in the “eye” of the circles. 

I often paint and rip papers to give the appearance of brush strokes in collage rather than using clean edges. I find it pleasing and more organic. I’m particularly pleased that this piece now has the perfect home with a dear friend who was a Mathematics teacher for years.