From braiding and rituals to altering memories, Silvi Naçi uses the power of performance to uplift the voices of marginalized communities. Under the nom de plume Silver Projects, Naçi has produced an impressive body of work that includes an artist residency at MASS MoCA (summer 2017) and the founding of STAND UP: Women* You Should Know—an ongoing series of lectures, interviews, and exhibitions focusing on “showing the work of marginalized artists of different class, race, gender identity, religion, cultural ethics, and immigration status”—a 45-woman* group show that premiered at Boston’s Gallery Kayafas in July 2017.

Silvi Naci, Weight of Memory, 2016

Take: What was it like growing up in Albania, and when did you immigrate to the United States?
Silvi Naci: I knew I wanted to be an artist since I was six years old—studying in Fier’s art and music school, [Shkolla] Jakov Xoxa. My cousin, an established painter, taught me how to paint in oils. I continued to study art after moving to the States at the age of 14. Leaving Albania was heartbreaking—but my mother wanted to give my sisters and me the opportunities that Albania couldn’t offer for three ambitious women hungry for education.

T: What have your experiences been as an artist and immigrant living in Boston?
SN: I’ve always had this overwhelming sense of non-belonging to any place, except with my mother. Leaving Albania at such an important age definitely created a slit in my mind. Although I have lived in Boston on and off for 16 years, I have never felt at home. Just this past summer, I returned “home” to Albania after nine long years. I thought maybe I would feel at home there, or at peace. But much has changed, and I have changed. And although I miss even the smallest rock in Albania, I am now an outsider [there] as I am an outsider living in the States.

I often ask other artists if they would be making the same artwork they make in the United States back in the country where they are from, so I started to ask myself the same question. Being born and raised in a country of control, oppression, corruption, and fear, it’s strange to think about ideas like, “You can be whatever you want,” and “Anything is possible.” Lower-middle-class Albanians living in Albania right now do not have that luxury of thought. A lot of my work looks at this disconnect, the contrast, and ideals. I am always trying to build a bridge between these two cultures and traditions.

T: Your work focuses on uplifting marginalized communities such as women, immigrants, and the LGBTQ community. Why is this important for you?
SN: I believe that if I ever have any power to be heard, I must bring people with me. There is an African proverb I love: “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” I can’t imagine anything I would rather do than work with others and create meaningful and impactful work together. My practice is motivated by providing vigorous learning experiences in the arts, and supporting the voices of disenfranchised and ignored cultures. My curatorial work focuses on similar issues that my art addresses: gender, race, social politics, identity, immigration, borders. It is important for me to look at how people are working with these ideas in ways that I have never seen before—not only so I can learn, but to engage with others as well.

Untitled artwork by Silvi Naci

T: How has being an artist engaged your political beliefs in this intensely divided climate?
SN: That can be a whole article in itself! When POTUS won, much like everyone else in our country, I was heartbroken—filled with anxiety and panic. My family and I had already read this book, about Albania—we know how it ends. But [having come] to the States for safety and a better life, we now thought, “Where do we go from here?” The day after the election, I deleted all of my social media accounts besides Instagram, and decided to only focus on art and education. That seemed like the only answer for me to continue living. I just turned back to art and working with people who want to have engaging dialogue instead of turning to hate.

T: Can you describe one of your favorite recent performances?
SN: An ongoing performance that is so dear to me is ONE: pairing myself with someone of another communist culture, past or present, with a similar traumatic history—we braid our hair together into one. Mother Nature intended us to be one people, but as contemporary Western practices promote individuality and uniqueness, we struggle to disconnect and pull apart from each other. Physically and mentally [it’s] a painful act, clear in our expressions. I have a long list of people/countries I want to represent in this work. I think in the end it will be a long video through which the viewer is traveling through the world, one braid at a time.

Silvi Naci
Dorchester, Massachusetts
Website
Instagram

Top image: Still of Naçi from KURV (“whore” in Albanian). Photo courtesy of Silvi Naçi

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While painting a self-portrait as both a monk and a nun in the Middle Ages, Boston-area queer artist Ria Brodell got to thinking, “What would I have done if I had been born in a different era? What did people do? How did they get by?”

That’s how the project Butch Heroes was born. Painted in the style of Catholic holy cards, Butch Heroes tells the true stories of people assigned female at birth who rejected traditional gender roles and—in many cases—assumed a male identity. There’s D. Catalina “Antonio” de Erauso (1592–1650), a military captain and devout Catholic who got permission from the pope to dress as a man; Biawacheeitche or Woman Chief (1800–1854), an adept hunter and warrior known for her bravery; and Jeanne or Jean Bonnet (1849–1876), who was arrested multiple times for wearing men’s clothing and led a shoplifting gang of ex-prostitutes.

Katherina Hetzeldorfer (c. 1477), who was convicted of passing as a man (including the use of a phallic “instrument”) and sentenced to drown. By Ria Brodell

Brodell spent countless days combing the queer aisles of libraries, learning to search primary sources for archaic terms such as “female husbands.” Just like the stories found on holy cards, the histories that accompany each image can be funny, sad, grotesque, or inspiring.

Though the first 25 heroes have been immortalized in a book, Brodell continues to search for more—now investigating stories from underrepresented parts of the world, such as the Middle East, China, and India. “I want to find people from these regions that are difficult,” explains Brodell, “and I’m still really excited by all these stories. Each story is new, each process is new—so it keeps you going.”

Ria Brodell – artist
Boston, MA
Website
Facebook
Instagram

Top images by Ria Brodell; courtesy of the artist and Gallery Kayafas, from the Davis Museum at Wellesley College permanent collection
Right: Clara aka “Big Ben” c. 1926 United States | gouache on paper, 11 x 7 inches, 2014
Left: Captain Wright c. 1834 England | gouache on paper, 11 x 7 inches, 2016

The post Quick Takes: Rebel Angels appeared first on Take Magazine.

The two-dimensional never interested Boston-based artist Clive Moloney: 3-D offered more room for his imagination to roam. As a child growing up in the countryside in County Tipperary, Ireland, he created little towns and farms made from hazel tree branches and garden tools. As a graduate student at Massachusetts College of Art and Design, he created sculpture out of found objects such as laundry baskets, fans, plastic bags, with the intent of getting people to look at domestic objects from a different point of view.

In his exhibit at Contemporary Arts International in Acton, Massachusetts, Breathe, Pause, Breathe, Moloney goes a step further with a large-scale installation of multimedia projection and moving body-like parts that seem to breathe. It takes up more than 700 square feet. “The main aspect is to create a fantastic environment,” he says. “It may cause people to question how they perceive their own environment, particularly in terms of time. I regularly attempt to slow the viewer down, and this is often in stark contrast to our everyday lives.”

In the exhibit, extended through September 29, Moloney drew inspiration from The Quarry, the site of CAI, where the owners’ mission “is to promote the creation, understanding, and appreciation of contemporary art in the global context.” The 12-acre campus, the site of a former granite quarry, is surrounded by close to 100 acres of forest.

The exhibit took Moloney three years to finish. “Three years is a long time for a body of work,” he says. “There are a lot of structural engineering challenges, and you had to learn it all as you went along.”

A section of Breathe, Pause, Breathe / image courtesy of Clive Moloney

Moloney used latex because of its flexibility to create the appearance of skin on the parts that inflate and deflate as they move at alternating slow and fast speeds in a 10-minute loop. The pieces dip into vats of liquid latex, building up layers and twisting around, with tentacles forming and falling off. “The motor that drives it is like a life-support machine,” he says. “The enclosed system is like our bodies are. I started with the Buddhist idea of meditation and watching the breath.”

The 33-year-old left Ireland six years ago to study at the Massachusetts College of Art and Design in Boston, where he completed his MFA in 3-D in 2013. He got his BFA in sculpture at Limerick School of Art and Design in 2007. He has exhibited at the Irish Museum of Contemporary Art, Limerick City Gallery of Art, Occupy Space in Ireland, 555 Gallery and Gallery Kayafas in Boston, and The Front Gallery in New Orleans.

Moloney has come a long way from Tipperary, a landlocked rural county that’s home to mountains, rivers, lakes and farmland. He says he always knew he wanted to be an artist; his father, an electrician, and his mother, a nanny, supported him in his dreams. “Within my fantastic environments, I investigate the true nature of chosen materials,” he writes in his artist statement. “My work exploits transformative materials that go through chemical reactions and changes of material states such as plaster, cement, sugar, and latex.”

A section of Breathe, Pause, Breathe / image courtesy of the artist

Moloney says the process is as important as the product. “The artwork goes through several steps and processes before completion. Mold making and casting is an example,” he says.

In the CAI exhibit, Moloney’s first major piece after earning his master’s, collaboration was also part of the process. He relied on the expertise CAI co-founder and Hungarian-born sculptor Viktor Lois, known for his machine creations. Lois did troubleshooting and helped weld pieces together. Moloney’s wife, an immunologist, lent biology textbooks and discussed her knowledge of the human body. Sue Murad, an artist and filmmaker who lives in nearby Jamaica Plain, made a video.

Next up Moloney plans to head to Taiwan to an artist village in Soulangh for two months to do a artist residency hosted by CAI co-founder Yin Peet, a Taiwan-born sculptor and philosopher.

Clive Moloney–artist
Boston, Massachusetts
Website
Facebook

Top image from Breathe, Pause, Breathe, courtesy of Clive Moloney.
Video is by Sue Murad.

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