Cienna Smith : An Interview
In May of 2020 New York City was reported to have more cases of coronavirus than any country outside of the United States. By mid-August, the death toll had reached 32,399 in the metropolitan area alone. The city has seen itself gutted by this pandemic, the deadliest disaster by death roll in the history of New York City. Amidst this devastation, the murders of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor rose an already divisive political climate to a boiling point, initiating global protests in solidarity of the Black Lives Matter movement. New York City has participated in daily protests for over 50 consecutive days, marching through the rain and the heat to ensure their voices are heard. The transformative power of this moment is palpable, especially in these places like New York that are still prioritizing servitude despite their own obstacles.
I had the privilege to sit down with Cienna Smith, a young artist based in Washington Heights, Manhattan
who has been observing the gradual evolution of the city for the past three years. After discovering her work on Twitter, I reached out and a few weeks later we met over Zoom, after only minor technical difficulties. She shared with me a very grounded perspective of quarantine, an artist’s ability to highlight and capitalize upon the silver lining. In her own work, she utilizes a variety of different mediums to create surreally saturated landscapes of feeling. She often depicts empowered women who she describes as “looking like family.” Her strong emphasis on community is immediately apparent as she describes holding her ground in the city, amongst the sweeping pandemic and protests alike. She tells me that it’s “hard to really quantify the changes,” crowded streets becoming empty overnight and then filling up with protestors a few weeks later. She portrays the city as appearing “almost post-apocalyptic but not quite weird enough to be post-apocalyptic,” giving details about the masked civilians, police presence, and newly emptied buildings.
Despite this external unrest, her creative exploration has been surprisingly nurtured through quarantine and she described to me the ways in which she has been filling her days these past few months. Joining an art collective in January has helped her stay connected to the art community and she tells me it has been interesting to watch the space for interaction change to our now newly limited digital lives. Using this virtual platform they were able to create a coloring book to imbue a sense of revitalized inspiration, despite being confined to their individual residences.
As far as her personal works in progress, Cienna describes an increase in freelance work as well as a series exploring the Western Zodiac. Additionally, she has been creating work for her friend’s mutual aid fund for Black Womxn Exhale, an organization working to provide relief for New York City’s Black Womxn and Femmes. When asked if she typically described her art as having a political agenda she thoughtfully responded that despite her not purposefully implementing a political goal into her work, “Black and Brown bodies are inherently political in our landscape.” This acknowledgment speaks to the divisiveness of our times when simply claiming and expressing your identity can be enough to attract and unintentionally provoke those with oppugnant attitudes.
She tells me that the only intentional message of her artwork is to “be present and be loud and be proud of it,” a necessary reminder in these days of social and political unrest. When elaborating on the figures she chooses to implement in her work she explains that she “started by drawing someone who looked like my uncle, someone who looked like my mom, my grandmother when she was younger.” In implementing this practice that she entitles “callback to familiarity,” she discovered that “No one teaches you how to draw black and brown people.” Instead of being dissuaded, she took this limitation as a challenge-- taking the initiative to define and depict these figures for herself. The result is incredibly vivid women who ground her saturated work with their tonal density and depth.
Her parents are from the Caribbean island of Curaçao: a tropical paradise peppered with pastel buildings and surrounded by indulgently blue water. She tells me that despite not being born there herself, her frequent visits gestated the larger mythology of her work-- a cacophony of colors intertwined with alluring Black and Brown bodies and hints of transcendent Caribbean spirituality. These influences are all readily accessible and evocative in her work. Lockdown has given her more time to reflect upon this expansive mythology and she has really enjoyed the space this new stillness has given her to “explore an identity through art, taking up space as myself.”
Expanding upon her sources of inspiration, Cienna touched upon the importance of technology in her work. She utilizes her iPad frequently, commenting that it makes drawing “easy to integrate into everyday activities” like watching tv, going for a walk, or hanging out with her roommates. The development of this truly mobilizable art medium encourages a symbiotic relationship between life and art. Gone are the days where a painter must run home after being inspired, set up their easel and oil paints and begin to construct from memory. Technology has allowed art to be truly integrated into daily life, removing many of the historic barriers to creation. Moments can be captured while still in the moment as never before; making art more viable and accessible.
“mobilizable art medium encourages a symbiotic relationship between life and art”
Cienna finds herself in good company amongst other artists who also have found their work becoming increasingly intertwined into their daily routines during quarantine. Many, including myself, have found this lockdown to be an unexpected respite from the usual busyness that distracts us from really focusing on the work. Cienna remarked that, “Before lockdown I didn’t post or promote my work.” She expanded that lockdown gave her the focus to begin pursuing the artistic career she always dreamed of. Reflecting, she notes that before lockdown she felt burnt out at her restaurant job in MidTown and too exhausted to focus on her work. But lately she says “I’m hard working in a way that I like now,” having now found a fulfilling practice in the pursuance of her true passion.
