Ink, water and wonder: the artistic explorations of Irene Pantelis
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Local artist Irene Pantelis has a keen sense of exploration driven by her rich cultural background. Pantelis grew up in many different Latin American countries until 1986, when, at the age of 16, she came to live in the District of Columbia with her family. After finishing high school, she attended the University of Maryland, College Park, where she received her Bachelors in Arts, later completed a Masters in Fine Arts and now works as an art lecturer.
Since childhood, Pantelis says she has always had an artistic side. While her journey has taken her to many different places, both geographically and professionally, she sees how they have all led back to artmaking. For instance, she learned about magic realism (often called “magical realism”) when studying literature. The literary genre, which has also influenced generations of artists, affected her and helped her develop a nuanced perspective.
“Art has always been there,” says Pantelis. “It was there when I was studying literature, when I was a lawyer and when I was with my kids.”
Before becoming a full-time artist, Pantelis also went to law school and worked as a labor lawyer. By her mid-30s, she was a step closer to her lifelong goal of becoming an artist, but she encountered obstacles to devote herself fully to her craft. Becoming a full-time mom and supporting her aging parents after they became seriously ill brought her closer to home, but Pantelis soon found that the objects around her only further inspired her to incorporate them in her artwork.
Even the most simple and mundane things can be interpreted as something abstract, says Pantelis, like grass and household items. She often showcases plants and nature since she is significantly inspired by the landscapes of her home country Bolivia. Pantelis utilizes ink and water to express her thoughts and represent them on her canvases.
Pantelis’ art represents her multicultural roots and intimate connection with nature. She transforms her daily visuals into canvases, creating images of “a dreamy land” by embracing diverse materials and welcoming accidents. As an art teacher, she also strives to inspire people in the art sphere to continue to explore the boundaries between the imagination and reality.
In the interview below, Hola Cultura speaks with Pantelis about her experience of finding herself in her art.
Where do you find your inspiration?
Being at home with the kids and having a family, I started finding more inspiration in my daily life and the neighborhood in which I live. Having kids also made me think a lot about where I had come from. I was born in Bolivia, but I moved around growing up. I lived in Bolivia, Uruguay, Brazil and New York. Home became this thing I would explore, and I would try to salvage [my] roots by looking at things in my house. So a lot of my inspiration is from things that I find around me or often use. My latest work was all about grass. It was inspired by plants in my backyard. They became little platforms for something else.
How did you find out about magic realism, and how did you incorporate that into your art?
As an undergraduate at the University of Maryland, I studied Latin American literature. Magic realism was a movement, style or way of thinking that was born in Latin America and then exported elsewhere. The way I understand it is that [when] we look at everyday life, there are things that we just can’t understand or accept. I think our imagination copes with things that are very fantastical [by making them a] part of ordinary life. Then ordinary things can become fantastical.
I learned about it initially through reading novels, and then I started seeing it in paintings of Latin American artists. I’m always drawing something I’m looking at that is part of my daily life. The more you draw — like if I draw the same little grass plant over and over — the more it starts to become playful and abstract. It’s through that abstraction that I bring a lot of fantasy into the work.
There is a lack of color in your style. What is your relationship with color?
I have a complicated relationship with color. It’s easier for me to create textures or find a composition by using more black and white. It’s one less thing to think about. I then try to bring color back in. I’ve had phases where I use really bright colors, too. It just depends. We are influenced a bit by the landscapes that we grew up with. I grew up moving around, but what affected me [the most] was the landscape in Bolivia because it’s beautiful. It’s very mountainous and has an arid landscape. A lot of my colors are those now since I’m doing more grasses and trying to incorporate or embrace greens and other tones.
What techniques do you use to portray dream-like qualities?
I start [by] using mediums that are not easy to control. Instead of using a pen or a pencil, I’ll use ink and a lot of water. If you put a lot of water on a piece of paper, and then you put the ink, it will do its own thing. It has its own temperament and will do things you’re not anticipating. I use a lot of materials that have their own movement, so I respond to them.
I also like textures and using beeswax or wire mesh. [They] give you a lot of textures and things to play with. I’m always exploring in my work the relationship between us and nature. Combining materials that are very natural with some that are very synthetic is also something I’m interested in.
Is it scary trying new materials on canvases?
It was scarier when I was taking classes because [whatever] you were doing, you were doing it in front of people. Now that I have my own studio, it doesn’t matter if it’s dumb or bad — nobody will see it. You just have to be willing to try and accept that out of 10 things, maybe one will work. But even with techniques that I know well — like drawing with ink — sometimes you don’t have a whole day, and none of the drawings work out. You have to have a lot of grit to be an artist.
When you’re trying to impart these abilities, what are some things you tell your students to help them understand the world the same way you do?
I think younger people tend to want to draw very representationally. Abstraction and stylization is more of an acquired taste. I find that older students tend to embrace it more than the younger ones. A lot of what I do is show them the beauty in the accidents and not be so contrived in trying to make everything neat.
[My students are] always trying to put neat outlines around things. I encourage them to appreciate that other ways of drawing are just as expressive and beautiful. Through that process, people start to embrace abstraction more. But every now and then, there’s a student that loves it anyway.
I expose [the students in my class] to different kinds of drawings, so we do very loose drawings. I make them use their left hand instead of their right hand and hope that something sticks, that they find something a little bit more interesting.
How do you prepare for group exhibitions versus individual exhibitions?
It depends. There is a studio gallery that doesn’t have a theme so they let you include anything. Because I’m a member, I can decide what to give them. But there are other shows that you have to compete for, and they’ll usually have a theme.
I’m in a show at the Atkins Arboretum on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. [The theme] was about plants in the region so I gave them drawings inspired by local plants. Sometimes I’ll make the work for the competition, but usually [I’ll already have one or two works picked out.]
A solo show is about you. You come up with an idea and need a body of work that meshes well and isn’t too repetitive. They have to speak to each other. You’ll need 20 to 25 works. I had a big show in Florida once that needed 40 pieces. [Individul exhibitions require] a lot of thinking about a concept and the message you’re trying to give. How are you going to present it? How much are you going to say?
Some people don’t say anything. They just put their images up and don’t have any writing or explanation. Other people put a ton of writing out there. I suggest a direct view of what I was thinking, but I also don’t give up a lot. For an introduction, I’ll include [a little of] what inspired me.
Could you tell us about your process for one of your pieces?
Every summer I would go with my grandmother to the countryside in Uruguay. That place is flat in grass so when I moved to the U.S., one of the things that bothered me was all the lawns in people’s houses. They seemed so fake. Then I moved to the suburbs and ended up having a lawn I now must maintain.
I’m always plucking weeds, so I often bring them to the studio and draw them. [It was from all that that] I started drawing grasses and plants. I liked how the roots were all interconnected. Often, you have different kinds of weeds and plants, so every summer, I was in a place where it was all grass. I started connecting them and called them grasses from north and south.
As I was working with this watery medium, [my focus was on] making things that connect and don’t. I mixed sumi ink with walnut ink and then with watercolor. They somewhat repel each other and then sometimes bond. I played with all these things, and that’s how I made these drawings. The paper that I use is either Yupo or vellum. They’re very similar as they’re not absorbent. [Yupo] is more traditionally used by Japanese people. Vellum is used by architects to make their drawings. That’s why you see the ink dried on top of the paper without it being attached. That’s what these drawings were about.
To learn more about Pantelis’s work, please visit her website. She is participating in the group show “Butterflies in the Outhouse” at the Studio Gallery, Washington, D.C., from July 17 to Aug. 10. Pentalis will have a solo exhibition at the same gallery from Sept. 4–28.
This interview has been edited for clarity and concision.
– Story by Elizabeth Euceda and Iris Lopez
– Copy edited by Michelle Benitez
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