AN(OTHER) ARTIST AT THE TABLE by Kayla Cantu I’m certain about two things: 1. I’m uncertain about what it fully means to be an artist. 2. Being an artist holds varying descriptions. I bring this up for a roundabout reason. While currently navigating this reality, I’ve come to terms that the label of “artist” is versatile. An artist wears many hats: maker, educator, writer, researcher, professional rambler, framer, crate building trainee (or professional), cool kid gone rogue, etc. While we may not personally identify with each job description, there’s a common thread that’s strung between us…We are adapters. We alter our trajectory to the changing world and glass community around us. More interestingly, artists possess the ability of influencing people to make way for creative interpretation and adapt to our art practices. I’ve been thinking about this idea since the emergence of the global pandemic. It’s common knowledge that the pandemic turned most people’s livelihoods upside down mentally and financially, mine included. Even though this event altered lives in various ways, I discovered the pandemic gifted me something unexpected. It gave me time to think about how I’ve changed personally, artistically, and where I fit within the glass community. Identifying as someone who’s mixed race and queer, amongst other things, I struggled to find a sense of belonging while working with a privileged material amongst a community that is traditionally noninclusive. Within this realization, I found myself thinking of young artists who identify through connected avenues and are flipping the script on the glass community through their creative interpretations. The following emerging artists identify as BIPOC and or LGBTQ. Each individual discusses how they are carving a path for themselves in the glass community by com-bating feelings of imposter syndrome, traditional definitions of “success,” and speaking from personal experience.
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Alexander Lozano: Being a gay, Hispanic man in the hot shop translated to having many internal thoughts of imposter syndrome. I often found myself thinking, “I don’t belong here. Will this guy be comfortable sharing a blowpipe? I guess I am not good enough to work with that artist.” These thoughts became overwhelming, and I eventually found comfort in the kiln shop. I enjoy creating work in a kiln shop, but while my kiln practice has allowed me to get accepted into international exhibitions, it has also created a lonely path. Many times, it felt like people in the glass community would close me out in moments of success. It seems that in moments of success, some people do not want to celebrate with you, but instead shut you out with an almost, “Forget you. You figure it out” mentality. This experience stands out the most: I was super excited to be have one of my works in an exhibition across the globe, but I had no idea how to get it there. I reached out to local institutions, artists, and educators. However, all I was met with were dead ends. It took months to find the right information I needed to meet requirements asked by the museum and U.S. customs.
When I was able to get the work in an adequate crate, I discovered it would take thousands of dollars to get my work to the airport, then through customs, and then get it back from customs after the exhibition. It was a bitter-sweet moment where I realized I either had to donate the piece or allow it to be destroyed. I couldn’t afford to get it back. The moment I realized I could not afford to get my own artwork back almost broke me. Feelings of impostor syndrome arose once again and said, “You are not an artist. You can’t even afford the shipping for your own artwork.” In this moment I really had to dig deep and ground myself so I would not get discouraged. It's tough. There is a tremendous amount of pressure to achieve “success.” In the past, I was under the false impression that money equates to success and to receive more money I needed to attain CV lines. I believed that the more lines you had on your CV meant the more “successful” you are. I now understand that's entirely false. You can have all the lines in the world on your CV, but those lines may never allow you to actually feel successful. I’ve learned that success is defined by an individual, and it’s not about comparison between one artist and another.
Alexander Lozano, Luego vinieron por mi........... and there was no one left to speak out for me. Flexible Glass, Window Glass, Thread, Gold Leaf. 2019. 16” x 93" x 1”. Photo Credit: Courtesy of the Artist
GASNEWS
SUMMER 2021
VOLUME 35, ISSUE 1
