Birmingham Weekly: Women’s Issue 2010
May 20-27, 2010
Interview by Lauren Mills
Tracie Noles-Ross refers to herself as an Alabama artist and has been producing art in Birmingham for more than two decades. She creates visual narratives and has done so through the use of paintings, installations, collages and other mixed media, and anything else she can get her hands on. In all of her work– with its sometimes-bold colors, rounded shapes and fanciful creatures–there is an element of play as well as gravity. Her work is included in Birmingham Biennial 3, a major juried exhibition on display at Bare Hands Gallery downtown through May 22. It seems clear that Noles-Ross–the ever-evolving artist, wife and mother–has many more stories to tell.
Birmingham Weekly: Are you originally from Birmingham? If so, how does that affect your work?
Tracie Noles-Ross: I was born and raised in Birmingham and now I am raising my children here. It is the only home I have ever known. I am certain that it affects my work. My love for and my aversion to certain aspects of southern culture define who I am as a person–therefore, I suppose they also affect my creative process. Everything from the materials I work with, the landscape, the weather as well as my social education have made me artist/person that I am. I first showed my work in Birmingham in 1985 and have been growing as an artist in this city ever since. There weren’t a lot of venues for emerging artists back then but it didn’t stop us from trying to get our work out there. With the support and creativity of a select group of people here in Birmingham, my friends and I found ways to show our work. The work I made during those years was the best art education I could have hoped for. I am grateful for those years. I learned more about what it means to be an artist from those collaborative projects than I ever did in college.
Were you always creative? Was there a moment–I shudder at the idea of saying “epiphany”–when you knew it would be your focus?
Yes, I have always been creative. I was always making something as a child. More important maybe, I think I was born telling stories. I always knew I’d be a story teller. It was just a matter of narrowing down the medium. I studied English and studio art in college and those two areas fed each other–but I quickly discovered that I felt more comfortable working with my hands so I learned to let literature and poetry guide and inspire me as I worked to discipline the story teller in me and develop my visual vocabulary.Of course, when my art teacher framed and hung a painting I made of my house in the lunchroom at the elementary school I was attending in 4th grade, I had a pretty good idea that I liked showing myself to the word in that way. Is that the sort of light bulb moment you were looking for? Heh.
You work in a variety of media. Is there one you prefer? How do you know which subject will be expressed in which medium?
I consider myself a multidisciplinary artist. Different stories cry out for texture or color, some call for a quiet simplicity. Sometimes I am guided by available materials or even the seasons. I work on a larger scale or in clay when it is warm and I can open up my work space. I worked on a smaller scale when my children were really young because I couldn’t move around as much or use toxic materials around them. I started using watercolor and ink again after becoming a mom. Now that they are older, I work with clay and beeswax a lot more and they work alongside me. Mostly, I look forward to seeing where the next body of work takes me. I tend to work in series form so once I establish parameters and materials, I just go and see what happens.
You say that the theme of your work right now is “personal ritual.” What do you mean?
I am fascinated by superstition and how it affects the way that we live. I came to realize a long time ago that many of us develop personal rituals to comfort ourselves — even if we don’t believe we are superstitious. We may say we don’t believe in luck but we do tend to seek out patterns, routines, compulsions… personal rituals that help eliminate stress. When I started paying attention to my life and the rituals that I have developed over the years, based on certain psychological and physical sensitivities and preferences, I decided to try to acknowledge them and even to draw on them for the subject matter of my work. This sort of pattern recognition has become the foundation for my visual vocabulary.
Do you have your own personal creative rituals?
I am a morning person. I love to get up really early and start work as soon as I can. I put on my boots and the kettle, make breakfast for my kids, get them started on a project, feed all of my animals, let thoughts percolate as I make the rounds and check on my bees and garden, and then I sit down with a cup of tea, NPR [National Public Radio] and my work. Most of my work happens or at least starts at my kitchen table these days. I have a view from my second-story kitchen window of the woods and meadows surrounding my home. It is bright and open and conducive to getting creative juices flowing. And, my kids are home with me since we homeschool so it’s the most practical place to be. I don’t shut myself up in my studio. I teach, cook, write and paint from that same spot in my kitchen. It isn’t always easy but it works for us. And, it just feels right.
In your current work, women and animals are often depicted, but there seems to be an absence of the males. Why?
Most of my work is autobiographical, so the children and women in my work are almost all all extensions of my psyche. Now that I have children, their personalities and stories have started to layer themselves onto mine, and new elements are being added to my narratives. They are not, however, specific representations of any of us but rather amalgams. My children have opened up all sorts of doors and windows in my brain, releasing memories and feelings from my childhood that I’d forgotten. I guess you could say that they are simultaneously muses and memory triggers. I tend to paint what I feel more than what I see. I never follow that art school rule to paint only what I see and not what I know. I translate sensual experiences, emotion and memory into a visual symbolism much as a synesthete might translate music into colors. It’s a cognitive and perceptual process, beginning at some intuitive place and then orchestrated to conduct what I hope is a successful narrative. Since I know what it feels like to be a girl or a woman but have no idea what it feels like to be a man, I simply choose not to paint them. The animals, specifically dogs, are symbols of familiarity and comfort, of home. The bees represent community, connection and fertility. The wildlife (foxes and birds being the most prominent) represent a lack of inhibition or a sense of freedom.
How has your work most changed in the last 20 years?
This past decade I have slowly allowed myself to tell more authentic, truthful narratives. For a long time I struggled with what it meant to be a woman in this field and this struggle affected my work. I tried for a long time to force my work to be something it couldn’t be. I hit a wall about 10 years ago and had no idea how to keep making art. When I became a mother, I let go of a lot of the pretense and just started doing my best to tell my story honestly and simply. It has been a much more gratifying process.
I also think that I am moving into a phase in my work that is more about abstraction. I can’t elaborate any more on that, though. It’s just something I feel happening in my creative process. As I approach 50, my sensibilities seem to be shifting. I am not sure what that means yet.
Do you have any inkling where your work is going next? Are there themes you always wanted to explore?
I am working on a new series that I hope to show in my 50th year. I can’t tell you what it’s about because I am superstitious and I believe naming the process or series at this point would jinx it. It is something new though, something I have always wanted to do.
Is there anything else you would like to share?
I can’t imagine what more to say except that I love making art. It is a compulsion that drives me, and even if I didn’t have the opportunity to show my paintings and tell my stories, I would still be creating something somewhere as a way to connect with others. I am not an extremely social person. In fact, I am quite private, but my work keeps me connected to my community in ways for which I am grateful.
Learn more about Tracie Noles-Ross and her work at www.tracienolesross.com. Laurel Mills is a Birmingham freelance writer. Her work has appeared in such publications as Lipstick and Mental Floss. Her web site is www.laurelmills.com.
