SUSANA ALDANONDO

ARTIST STATEMENT

"I take to the streets of New York to engage in counter-culture, in rebellion.  I question established notions of high art, while addressing the tremendous effort it takes to be a woman in an art world dominated by men. I believe that art cannot be confined to galleries. The street itself must become a canvas for rebellion, to demand a space in the art world that we deserve. At a time when the establishment still does not give women their proper recognition, I take it to the streets."  Susana Aldanondo

As it was somehow said to me during a critique:  "How sweet, out on the curb, well mannered, having fun, making beautiful art.  Honey, all you're doing is making beautiful art by the side of the road."

I can relate to the "beautiful" wild plant that very few notice growing, emerging and coming up in search for light through a crack in the barricade next to the construction machinery strategically placed on the cobblestone street where I paint.  

I thought of this very image when someone recently critiqued my work and downplayed with I do, and denigrated its 'beautiful' unexpected outcome.

"A beautiful painting," how fitting.  So beautiful, so bright.  So breathtaking to look at even in the "unacceptable" random studio setting.  However, how did the critic define beauty?  Did she use the term to denigrate my great work?  Beauty should never be the purpose of a work of art, or so the art world says.  It shouldn't be denigrating either.

There is so much more to say than beauty, so did she really miss the point of my work and got stuck in the visual beauty of it, which I might add, I can't help it.  I could not aim to make ugly work, though these ugly and dark times may call for it and deserve that we make art that is just so.

I thought about how many times in life we must be like the wild plant making way for itself in an atmosphere of rigid, unwelcoming structures that won't move, won't allow, won't interpret us, won't make way for us, and really seek to have us desist.  

We must, even more so: persist, grow, emerge, defying the structure's inflexibility.

I tell a story by painting here.  By being here.  I'm aware and defiant of the rigid art world.  

It turns out, this art world is not the one I thought it was, because I thought that it was  supposed to liberate.  Liberation is mindset in action: liberation only happens when we rid ourselves from the expectations of the world: that's exactly what I do here, too.

I must often defend the wall where I paint.  My being here stirs frustration in some colleagues in the arts, like the critic I mention, who by the way at first wanted to come and join me in my space here...which I politely declined.  

However, I must highlight that my being here  brings joy to most and especially to the public.

It takes courage to be here.

I'm proud of myself for being here.  I think of myself as a courageous woman.  I've often stood up of myself and for others, as it relates to art or to other important matters, at the risk of not being liked for it.  I'm very proud of this, too.

I'm proud of the beautiful art that I create here.  Creating the large beautiful work I make here is something I will always treasure.  

I'm exhausted of the pretentious titles and expectations from most institutions and most art professionals in this art world(s).  The pretenses demonstrate that they are out of touch with what art should really be and how it should celebrate individuality and courage and beauty.  This is my opinion, it has been my experience, as I have witnessed so many artists doing what is expected of them, many of whom will have long journeys in the shadows, doing things that are expected of them, and waiting patiently, because this is just how the art world operates.  It presents us with a long and difficult journey where we will most likely be excluded, anyway.

My work is about courage, it is about rebellion, individuality, and yes I think it is also about beauty.  Though not all artists are willing to address all four.   This is a highly competitive field, and if you are lucky enough you will not encounter any enemies, but that is unlikely if you are not here to please everyone, in my case I choose to take the risk and be me all the time.

I believe that art is about so many things that diverge from the critics and the people pulling the strings. I refuse to wear the strings.

The concrete barricades and cobblestone road remind me that most of the the structures that rule this industry are rigid and unyielding.  Yet,  if we care to look,  if we care to challenge that which is expected of us as artists, and  if we defy what the structure we all spiral around wants from us and halt it by being authentically ourselves, then maybe, we too, can emerge and grow in the midst of all this.  The structure as it is now seeks to contain, exclude, and diminish.  

What I see around me, may just be a singular facade inviting me to challenge the pretenses, and embrace simplicity, beauty, and individuality.  That may mean something different to other artists, this studio is it for me.

The beauty that some say I make on the canvas is subjective, it is the unexpected outcome of my work.  Its true beauty lies in the triumph over tragedy, like the wild plant growing here.  I celebrate this triumph every day I am out here painting, I intertwine the visual expression on the canvas with the musical pieces I listen to while I paint and the emotion of the here and now in this special place where I paint.  When it comes to abstraction, my work is about color, and movement, and emotion: I don't need to look around, I don't abstract from anything but from within.  

My work is really about everything I do:  it is not just my painting, it is the location, it is the interactions.  It is about waking up early in the morning and showing up, with messy hair. With sleepy eyes.  It is all about the guts and intention that it takes to be here.  

I may make some uncomfortable, and that's ok, that is also part of the beauty embedded within my work.

The more some put me down, the more I know I own this great work that I do and the intention becomes even more strongly aligned with it.  My being here is a statement of liberation from what is expected.

I realize I am one of many, and yet I am not.