Gianna Putrino
Gianna Putrino received her BFA from the State University of New York at Oswego (2014) and her MFA from the New York Academy of Art (2017). She has exhibited her work in group shows and solo exhibitions throughout the Southern Tier of New York and New York City. Gianna is the recipient of the Fredrick R. Xlander Emerging Artist Award and has received two consecutive grants from the Elizabeth Greenshields Foundation. Currently residing in Brooklyn, NY, her work responds to nostalgia and the desire for an idealized world—a space between memory and reality.
Artist Statement
There is a difference between land, which is “earth,” and what is “landscape,” in that the latter is loaded with wishful thinking. In the words of Simon Schama, “Landscapes are culture before they are nature; constructs of the imagination projected onto wood and water and rock.” My work seeks to create a disrupted space between memory, reality, expectation, and experience. The oversimplification of shape and exaggeration of color allows me to project my own notions of presence into landscapes that cannot be found on any map.
My process begins with an attraction to shape and linear compositions, first drawn on paper and then constructed out of wood with a jigsaw and router. Color becomes the secondary goal once the wooden object is realized. Drawing inspiration from nature's extremes, my color palette strips away intricacies in value, texture, and tonal structure, offering a simplified portrayal of grand natural encounters.
Expectation, nostalgia, and imagined memory are woven into the fabric of my work. I aspire to elicit recollections or a sense of yearning, leaving the viewer unable to pinpoint the precise time and place suggested by the artwork. Exploring the intricacies of memory, I delve into how our perceptions of past moments differ from their original experiences. Questions arise about the malleability of memory—how much is imagined or altered to accommodate feelings of nostalgia, escapism, or a desire to romanticize landscapes grander than ourselves?
In creating my fantasy worlds, my focus shifts inward, scrutinizing our perceptions and encounters with landscape. Prompted by an exploration of the roots of our attraction to nature, I aim to unravel the psychology underpinning environmental consciousness. I find fascination in our ability to idealize the grandeur of specific environments, questioning whether our mental landscapes, much like our memories, are loaded with wishful thinking.
How has the environment you grew up in affected your art practice?
I grew up in a small town in upstate NY, surrounded by hills, rivers, and lakes. As I got older, I discovered rock climbing and became acquainted with the mountains of the Catskills and Poconos in Northern Pennsylvania, taking trips with friends to climb in these areas. My interest in creating landscape artwork did not emerge until I relocated to New York City. Once surrounded by urban sprawl, I found myself yearning and feeling nostalgic for the environment of my upbringing. I began to explore the concept of memory and nostalgia in relation to environments, ultimately creating imagined worlds of a non-existent past.
If your artwork was a mirror, what would it reflect?
I think my work would reflect the mind of a person who seeks to escape into fantasy and idealism—a naive perspective of environmental consciousness and a yearning to be immersed in a world away from a sometimes chaotic reality. Expectation, nostalgia, and imagined memory are all woven into the fabric of my work. I aspire to elicit recollections or a sense of yearning, leaving the viewer unable to pinpoint the precise time and place suggested by the artwork.
In creating my fantasy worlds, my focus shifts inward, scrutinizing our perceptions and encounters with nature rather than delivering a straightforward representation of landscape. Through an understanding of escapism, spirituality, perception, and the romanticism associated with the natural world, I aim to unravel the psychology underpinning environmental consciousness.
What is the most difficult part (or your least favorite part) of your process?
The most difficult part is composing my color palette. I go back and forth the most with selecting colors that are harmonious. Often, I think about leaving the piece as a wooden or white shape, which I could see myself exploring in the future. But for now, I feel that I need color as a language to tell the stories of these spaces, even if it’s sometimes a battle.
Pursuing ‘artist’ as a career is not for the faint of heart. What is the most rewarding aspect of this pursuit?
The most rewarding aspect of the artistic pursuit for me is experiencing how others engage with my worlds and relate them to their own internal landscapes. I feel very fortunate to surround myself with these worlds; bringing them to life is a great privilege.
If your art is in a lineage of artists working within similar veins, who would be part of your lineage and why?
Nicolas Party and Etel Adnan are two artists I frequently reference. Both create fantastical and simplified landscapes with exaggerated color. My studio mate introduced me to Alphonse Mucha’s Slav Epic, and I have never been able to get those paintings out of my head; I believe some of those color theories and compositions are making their way into my work. I also draw inspiration from traditional Japanese landscape painting for composition, as well as animation and video game landscapes.
