In the Winter 2022 issue of BOMB Magazine, Joe Fyfe argues that abstract art emerged out of the desire to tap into more direct approaches to creation.
“The process became the subject matter,” he wrote. “There was seen to be a therapeutic value in the equation of physicality and spirituality.”
On her journey to abstraction, Luz Donahue, 32, went from literal doodles, to pet portraiture, to playful images of animals eating things they normally wouldn’t—and beyond—to the mind-meld territory of opaque backgrounds, mixed-media, swooping lines and meaningful smudges.
“Abstract painting looks like it could be easy—LOL,” she says, sitting in her Felton studio on Sunday as the afternoon light streams past watercolor utensils, bronzing her tea.
You have to submit yourself to the arduous process, she says, to facilitate a joint experience with the viewer. That’s the beauty of the genre.
“Your perception of what you’re looking at is based on your personal connection to the shapes and colors,” she says. “They’re creating it with me.”
She’s been gearing up for her first-ever museum exhibit, In The Artist’s Studio: Featuring Luz Donahue, which opens Feb. 4 at New Museum Los Gatos and runs until June 26.
In her kitchen, shoulder-high canvasses lean against the wall. In the living room, six framed works relax on their backs, only slightly askew. In her studio, she pauses to reflect on the effort that went into the exhibit.
“I think the worst thing is when we create situations…where a group of people feel like a particular type of art is not for them,” she opined, recalling the hustle-and-bustle of Non-Fungible Token commerce she witnessed during the trip she took with her partner to view this year’s Art Basel offerings in Miami. “My partner and I went just to see how it was.”
The art world showed up in force. It was instructive.
“There’s this establishment that’s about creating value,” she says, pointing to the interplay between art as investment and art as experience. “I don’t think that they’re necessarily opposing forces or anything.”
The way Donahue imbues her work with a sense of poignant authenticity is, in a word, transparency.
“There is a shift that happens when you understand how something works,” she says. “You can see yourself in it.”
“This is my box of old stuff,” Donahue says, as she flips through a healthy archival stack, reminiscing. They aren’t all idyllic memories. She was born in Costa Rica and her mom taught her how to paint with watercolors at an early age.
When she was 10, her mom married an American and moved the family to Bakersfield in 1999. Donahue struggled to acquire English language skills, and with the brand-new cultural landscape, pictures were a refuge.
“Ever since I’ve been a little kid, it’s been my safe space to go,” she says. “It’s been a really big part of my life for a long time.”
She peers down into the past, at the first truly abstract work she ever brought to life. It shows long, flowing lines that could represent the hair of a woman, or perhaps seaweed swaying in an ocean of reds, yellows and blues.
“I think I felt very trapped in a way that was very specific to my femininity,” she says, remembering the contours of the Conservative evangelical society from the perspective of a kid painting in the garage. “It’s abstracted, but it’s also very literal.” She returns to those colors, often, she remarks.
While attending Richland Junior High School in Shafter, a teacher took her to art galleries and opened a door to the possibility of a career as an artist. She began working in pen, ink and watercolors, and started to get really good at portraits. Donahue would travel to pet expos to paint pictures of people’s beloved animals for money. She appreciated getting to witness the eccentricities of this subculture, but the technique she relied on—crosshatch shading created through seemingly infinite tiny strokes—led to an arm injury. She had to find a new approach to art. From then on, she vowed to be more careful with her body.
For recent œuvres, for example, she might put blue markings on five works in a sitting, then add black dots to 60 different pieces of paper, later. She tries to tap into inspiration when it comes, never pushing herself to overexertion. She moved with her partner to a cute place in Felton eight years ago. And that’s become a key ingredient, too.
“We have the magical mix of mountain and ocean that does remind me of Costa Rica,” she says. “It’s just really good for my wellbeing. It does end up showing up in all of the work that I do.”
In The Artist’s Studio: Featuring Luz Donahue opens Feb. 4 at New Museum Los Gatos, 106 E. Main St., and runs through June 26. For information, visit bit.ly/3fUopV6.
