10 Questions with Diana Suárez

Diana Suárez (Mexico City, 1983) is a perceptive and restless artist. Interested in the world of graphics, she brings into play the act of representation using the language of drawing and the process of engraving to reflect on the psychogeographic, turning each work into a communicative device to establish collective dialogues.

www.dianasuarez.art | @artdianasuarez

ARTIST STATEMENT

As an artist, her interest has always been to communicate, to share what is happening in her world. To make others identify with the moments and intensities of the now. To make them question if they have not noticed or reflect on another point of view. Her goal is to mark temporality, leave traces and create hope. This is her artistic work—symbolic, charged with emotional strength, combined with technical experimentation.

In her work, she puts the body as the main axis—the body as a tool, as an experience, a territory, or simply as a pretext. However, not everything revolves around the body for her. She is also interested in paying attention to the effects and impact caused by the environment or the spaces through which we transit. Her work plays with psychogeography and drifts as processes. She is always thinking about what cannot be seen but can be formally captured in a work of art.

She starts from the drawing, from a graphic construction, but above all, she lets it flow. On the other hand, she chooses materials, colors, and textures, depending on the plasticity of the subject. That is why her work is both figurative and abstract because she does not believe that an artist should be of a certain form. Art is a language with which meanings are generated. As an artist, she intends to appropriate resources to create situations with the viewer through art.

INTERVIEW

First of all, introduce yourself to our readers. Who are you, and how did you start experimenting with images?

I am an enigma in evolution. I was born and raised in Mexico City; I studied Arts at the Faculty of Arts and Design of the UNAM, as it's called today –in my time, it was called National School of Fine Arts. During my undergraduate studies in the engraving workshop with Fernando Ramirez, I began to experiment with images. In the beginning, I wanted to be a painter, but engraving lured me instantly: it's simply fascinating, with its many techniques and formal outputs. However, Fernando was the one who gave me the option to do and undo my creations beyond mere technique. During this practice, I mastered each of the processes and discovered many interesting things about the construction and reproduction of images. Some of them are very direct, such as color, for example it's not the same if we use a black or blue ink, or having a plane instead of using gradients, using thick lines or thin lines, changing papers, juxtaposing them, cutting them, or not using paper and printing on other media. The result is very interesting because you plan, try, and modify, but you don't know exactly what you have until the end; sometimes, despite all the planning, you get images that you didn't expect.

How would you define yourself as an artist?

That's a difficult question. It's hard for me to define or pigeonhole myself in any way because the longer time goes by, the more I understand that art is freedom. And as artists, as creators of art, we are chaotic by nature. Not in the romantic notion of being "crazy", but quite the opposite. Every time we commit to handling more and more information, it gets complicated. But trying to answer the question, I would say that I am a multidisciplinary artist. My projects are also shaped by integrating varied disciplines such as natural science, geography, architecture, psychology, dance, etc., to name a few. I like to compliment my work. Each project demands something from me, but it's always different: my works all have a bit of drawing, history, truth, and fiction.

Can you tell us about the process of creating your work? What is your artistic routine when working?

In the beginning, I like to give myself a problem to solve. Or you could also say I'm looking for a justification. For many years now, graphic has been the path I have explored the most, so the output has been mostly graphical. From there, I gather information, research, read, write, sketch, re-sketch and sketch again before I work in the final piece.
Another important aspect of my creative approach is to set challenges for myself, whether formal or conceptual, like improving my drawing skills, producing long series, changing formats, using color, and experimenting with light. I'm really fluid and adaptable in this matter because I feel that if something has already worked for me and I keep using it, it will eventually spoil me. That's why I like to be in constant change. There is so much to explore and exploit to keep growing as an artist.

In your statement, you mention psychogeography. Can you tell us more about it? And how do you incorporate it into your work?

Psychogeography is a methodological tool developed by the Situationist International between 1957 and 1972, precisely with Guy Debord. It was defined as the "study of the precise effects of the geographical environment, whether consciously conditioned or not, on the effective behavior of individuals affective behavior of individuals" (Carreri 2013: 78). It refers to the study of the sensations, experiences, and perceptions that urban environments can provoke in us. It can also be defined as the analysis of the psychological effects that our geographical environment induces in us and how this affects our personal development. It is a cartography of emotions, a compendium of philosophical and psychological concerns placed in a specific geographical, urban place. Most of the psychogeographic collection is carried out through dérive (drifting), which consists of a walking tour without an itinerary or route, through the area to be analyzed. This differs from classic walks as its main objective is for people to focus on their senses and emotions and allow themselves to be influenced by the space in which they are during the dérive in order to map their experience. 

This is how, amid voluntary confinement during the world pandemic, I began a series called Micro and Macro worlds. Here the main objective was to produce works using only the materials and possibilities inside my house, to release and play with all these questions, joys, and frustrations in a visual way. MicroWorlds consisted in creating an abstract mapping of the walking routes across bedrooms, my living room, kitchen, and bathroom that became my everything for a couple of years. These drifts happened within 80-something square meters. Twenty-four hours of constantly-changing emotions became more intense and puzzling as days went by. Macro Worlds is a proposal of unreal territories. An escape outside to discover new areas, my space, an analysis of what inhabiting means and what it entails to walk on the same surface, from the desire to change and become aware that this thought is individual, and by talking about it to make it a collective notion. It was a path to discover how a line on the wall can mark a limit but a border on the floor, a personal journey, a spatial (territory) and emotional encounter in a certain moment of life. 

The project was challenging. In order to appreciate these personal worlds, it was necessary to understand the symbols, icons, and signs that were presented to us. Panofsky has already mentioned three phases in the study of iconography. "The first of these is pre-iconography, where the individual perceives primary elements such as colors, shapes, etc., recognizing such reality through one's own senses. The second stage would be iconography, where the viewer transforms form into images through associations. The last stage corresponds to iconology, this being the moment when the individual must find meanings beyond those that are visible, since he or she must discover the very meaning of the image" (Gómez 2003: 8-9).

In this sense, becoming aware of my walking as cartography meant going back and forth, stretching limits as far as possible, or extending entities by simply going around. It confirmed to me that we are in a constant search of ourselves and how we take ourselves to the limit. Of the importance of our body as the territory that we inhabit the most. A space that we feel we dominate until it becomes complicated once again and we return to study.  

Your work is both figurative and abstract, and you rely on the influences of materials, colors, and textures. Why do you use this visual language? And how has it evolved over the years?

True, in all my work, figurative and abstract, I have relied a lot on the materials because they are the ones that channel the messages. Visually they make us feel or remind us of pleasant or unpleasant situations, as the case may be. Sometimes I make those textures, and sometimes I take them in their current state as a means to reinforce an idea. Observing and feeling the texture of the papers and fibers with which they are made has allowed me to give them that value. They are not only the surfaces where I draw, print, or paint. Their participation becomes very active across the work. Something similar happens with color; for a long time I was afraid of it. Academically there is a whole theory with many sub-themes, and it simply terrified me. Also, theory changes with every discipline: it's not the same to talk about color in painting, engraving, illustration, and photography. It really seemed to me as something so far-fetched that I turned it upside down. However, paradoxically and unconsciously, I had the drive to use it. So I confronted it. Many times I failed, but I understood and kept playing with it. Now, it is an aspect that I choose to use or not as I please.

What do you hope that the public takes away from your work? And what messages would you like to convey?

I like to think of my work as an experience. I have learned not to expect anything. This is not selfish, it's just a matter of survival in the art world. That's how I see it. Since everything can be so subjective and controversial, you can get very frustrated. And that's not what art is about, neither for the viewer nor for the artist. I prefer coincidences. It is really gratifying to see someone look at one work and talk about the same things that crossed my mind when I created it. Or better yet, when he sees something that I didn't even imagine. I like them to talk. I want to convey astonishment, to leave a sense of doubt. To capture what is temporary. Let them know that not everything is wrong and that it's okay to feel wrong. That there is an illusion, there are many paths and ways to discover. That there is more to say.

What are the main themes you would like to explore with your work?

Landscape, the female body, nature, and time mainly. However, everything can take a turn at any moment and I can dive into another subject, work on it and go back to what I was working on. Sometimes subjects are what find you. Or projects come up with subjects that hadn't crossed your mind, and you become very interested in them. It's something very interesting. It is true that all artists have interests determined by their own personal lives, environments, personality, etc. It is also a combination of the politics of their countries, the world they are living, and where they live; this is a whole that is intertwined with what they put as their personal stamp to share with others.

Do you find that the shift to digital exhibitions and art fairs has helped you promote your work?

Undoubtedly, yes. The possibility of accessing a network from personal devices is much greater nowadays. Going to a specific art site, paying an entrance fee, or being a special guest could depend on several factors, because of time, money, or proximity. Even digitally, your work can show up randomly on a search allowing you to be seen unintentionally. Secondly, because you can reach countries that would be very difficult to reach in person. A third aspect is permanence. The time that viewers have as an opportunity to visit the exhibition is extended since they have the option to see it at any moment and sometimes even years later. The network functions as a storehouse, a record of events. In addition to captivating the public, they can look you up for future exhibitions and meetings.

What do you think about the art community and market?

I think that over the years, the art community has been expanding. There are more and more options in which you can work. I feel that programs and residencies to generate projects have grown. The art community has always been clever to stay on its feet. We live in a constant state of emergency that forces us to move and re-invent ourselves. There is a lot of work, but paid work costs work. That's the point. It's what it is.
I'm not sure about the art market. Although we have definitely made attempts, I don't feel that we are making progress. It is still very exclusive and narrow-minded. I am impressed by the set of values that are often put in play, where sometimes there is neither object nor idea but only money and power. I don't believe in this use of art. We still have a lot to stand for as creators. 

Finally, any projects you are looking forward to for this year?

Oh yes, there are more on-site exhibitions and joint exhibitions beyond Mexico City. There is also a contemporary art program that I am very excited about. A challenge that technically implies a lot of effort. I am happy just thinking about it. I can't say much more, but it will be very nice.
In parallel, as we are overcoming confinement and all related health protocols, I can finally go back to the engraving workshop. I have a lot of work ahead of me, more interdisciplinary collaborations with musician friends and fellow artists, sculptors, and photographers. Definitely, good things are coming!