Artist Spotlight: Emma Fineman
Happy belated birthday to this journal, started five years ago in August 2020. While we continue to celebrate all the creative people who make Northern California special, this month we are going international with Emma Fineman, a Berkeley native now residing in London.
Great artists allow a peak into their vibrant inner gardens through their work; great interviewees through their words. We are lucky that Fineman can do both, and it was a delight to hear how a truly creative mind processes the world. Her paintings are big and bold, sometimes literally combining word and image, her sculptures full of life and movement, like Fineman herself. We talked about the two most significant subjects of our time: color and shape.
Studio AHEAD: You grew up in Berkeley, studied in Baltimore, and now live in London. What colors do you associate with each of these places?
Emma Fineman: I love this question. I feel like remembered and internalized color is such an important part of the way work is made. There is a very specific shade of what sits somewhere between umber and Venetian red that is very present in all three cities and has a strong current in my work. Brick red. You see it on the roofs of buildings from the Cold War period, all across Marin and throughout the city. Rustoleum paint. Anti-rusting paint in a city prone to weathering. Baltimore has brick too, but its bricks sit a bit more muddy, or perhaps thatās where chartreuse comes in. The city lights on the Howard Street Bridge at night. London red is vibrantāthere is the printed red I think about in ads from the 60s that still informs the key of red on busses or other printed materials. London has two color keys. When the sky is grey the bricks meet the color of those in Baltimore for an afternoon both brownish and muddied. But then when the sky is blue they glow like the rooftops in Marin. Then there is printed material London. All the most saturated colors of printed media, adverts on tubes and all the signage. Itās bold and graphic in nature. It comes from a tube and is joyful but not always sincere.
SA: For our Northern Californian readers, perhaps you can describe a bit about the art community in London, as you see it.
EF: The art community is an ecosystem in London. You have artists, curators, and collectors all interfacing and showing great support and interest in one another in a way that helps to foster a healthy creative society. Sometimes it is challenging to navigate, as the art world is so incredibly small. On the whole there is a constant hum: of people making interesting work, really brilliant writers commenting on it, and luckily enough financial support to keep the whole thing running. That has absolutely kept me there. The artists are so enthusiastic and so talented and itās a joy to be in a city that supports our knowing and loving of each other.
SA:Ā Is this one of the reasons youāve decided to stay in London, rather than come back to the US?
EF: Certainly, although Iāve been working on my first international institutional show and working with artists in the US has been an absolute JOY. There is nothing quite like American enthusiasm. It is so incredibly contagious and encouraging.
SA: You have a distinct personal style, even when covered in overalls and paint. Is this an extension of your work or a rebellion against it?
EF: I see design as an integral part of my creative language. The way you dress everyday can be just as much an act of abstract color relationships as making a painting, maybe even more so. Dress, home design, and art making are all informed by those relational internalized colors you asked about earlier. That is deeper to me than the way fashion is often falsely perceived as superficial. There is nothing less superficial to me than how one chooses to identify through dress. Your internal world interfacing with your external environment. In invitation, and a presentation. These are the things Iāve gathered through looking and collecting, now you can see them too! Iām a dress for the occasion type of bitch. My mood and the context play a huge role in how I show up and show out.
SA: I love that! Iām enamored also by your recent installation at the Chapman Studios Residency. It has all facets of the erotic: movement, body, power, love, vulnerability, humor. Could you speak about the creative process behind these pieces?
EF: I am very lucky to have an uncle to teach me how to use tools. Man stuff, welding is one of those skills. I love bonding with him in that way. We spend afternoons going to Alco Metals and looking at all the materials they have, then bringing home rods in his truck for him to show me how to weld. How to keep the metal from spitting, how to get a good arc with enough bevel so the weld can really hold. I love that man and he was a big part of what led me to making these works. He left me with his MIG welder and I just carried on playing around with the skills he taught me. Since I was alone at Chapman, I was able to play with the metal and feel it bend against my body. Welding is highly physical. Painting at scale is [also] in a different way, but these works felt like they made themselves through my body. Channeling is always a part of my making, but this one felt more like a dance and growing into my own vessel as much as making theirs.
SA: What are you currently learning about now?
EF: Iām currently learning a lot from my friend Ash Rucker. Sheās a genius and her relationship to her work and community feel like an amazing well that Iām lucky enough to witness. Sheās teaching me about Benson meditation and gifted me a copy of āGathering Blossoms Under Fire: The Journals of Alice Walkerā edited by Valerie Boyd. Reading such personal letters of queerness feels like such a gift as I continue to process this past year plus of leaving my husband to be out as a lesbian. Iām learning a lot about the divine gift of self-actualization that queerness sort of demands. Thatās the glow you see on/in gay people. Thatās that sparkle. Divine isnāt it?
Photos: Sam Hylton and Cory Maryott













