Humdrum Artist Series: Vera Galvan
Portraits by Sierra Skinner.
‘Humdrum’ is a series of profiles on twelve of Los Angeles’ finest up and coming multimedia artists, reflecting the roster of the group art show of the same name opening at des pair books in Echo Park on September 16th.
I don’t know if it needs to be said, but I’ll say it anyway: you should be at that opening. Not only because the art is good and worth finding parking, but because print is important, physical space is important, and supporting artists is important, and by attending, you knock out all three. Artist Vera Galvan - where to begin? I suppose to begin to speak about Vera’s work, you must first take into consideration the context of decades upon decades of latino history and its being completely inextricable from the cultural development of the city of Los Angeles. Go study that and then stop by Des Pair to see Vera’s work.
How did you get started as an artist & how has your practice evolved to where you are now?
I started as an artist as an adolescent— but my work then was just doodles or stick figures. I constantly would draw alongside my grandma almost every morning while we had our coffee. At that time, I was obviously callow so I only perceived it as passing time, but she saw the potential and from there on I continued to push through with it. I think I became more consistent with my work around the age of 20 and I took it more seriously. I would work on pieces everyday and I would slowly see the progression in both skill and creations.
How does your creative process usually start? Does a vision or motive come first or do you find the meaning/end point as you work?
I usually visualize what I initially want to plaster first onto the piece and what I want it to convey. I freehand the majority of my work so a lot comes to me as I go— I feel if I plan a whole detailed piece I end up altering it along the way. There are always random spurts of inspiration, I’m constantly thinking of my current or future work so I like to notice random stuff and people on the street.
Have there been any significant feelings, experiences, or themes that have influenced your work?
There have been significant feelings and experiences in my most recent works. A lot of those connotations are pulled from family, romantic feelings and ongoing political issues. I think those factors have played a role in my work, but I have limited how much I would express them in the past. But I made it a goal to myself this year that I would be more vulnerable and open in my art. It is not easy or very fun to do in the moment— but I believe in the end that it is a bit rewarding as a person and an artist.
Los Angeles is a particularly intense and often uncomfortable place to be operating in. Do you feel like this pressure of perception and competition has affected your work or identity as an artist?
I do think when I first started putting myself out there, I felt not in competition with others but mainly myself. Trying to set a fast pace of getting my work “known” or out there— but I soon realized it does not work that way. It has to happen organically or else my pieces will lose their depth and ingenuity. I have always known that there will always be a more skilled or established artist, but I am me. As corny as it sounds, it is true— no one can take away my talent, ambition or style.
What do you feel is lacking in the modern art scene and why?
I think originality and drive are lacking in the modern art scene. I mentioned originality because it is common to see some of the same concepts and ideas repeated over time— which is something that I have fallen victim to. Nowadays (myself included) people are so focused on the end result that their drive and hustle are often put on the back burner. I think with access to everything at our fingertips, there has been a visible change in people’s ability to overcome obstacles.
What role does technology play in your practice and how might that change over time?
Technology does play a significant role in my work— it helps me retrieve gigs, commissions and I am able to share my work online. In a way I work remotely because I am able to utilize social media to put my work out there. I think within time, it will change depending on the platform itself and possibly “views or likes.” But it will not affect my physical work and the detail it carries.
Do you believe your work belongs to you or the viewer?
I believe my work belongs to me,I am very attached to it. Sometimes I feel a bit too attached, but I hold them very close to me. I also do believe that in a way it can belong to the viewer as well, especially when they connect their own connotations or experiences to my work. How can I take that away from them?
At what point do you believe a piece of work is ‘finished’?
I have noticed a strange realization when I come to finishing a piece. I get a sense of sadness towards the end of a project. It is like I slowly start detaching from the emotions I had while making it, as if it is the end of a brief chapter. But another one is soon to come.
“Humdrum” Artists:
Opening September 16th, on view through December at des pair books Echo Park.