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AUGUST 1, 2022
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We are honored to be showing a piece by LA-based figurative artist, Brea Weinreb. Her deliciously colorful paintings of crowds of men depict and decode moments of camaraderie, solidarity, performativity and exclusivity within male homosocial spaces.
Brea holds a Dual B.A. in Art Practice and English from University of California, Berkeley. Her career in the arts was heavily inspired by her grandfather, a lettering artist for DC comics, and high school painting classes. Read below for an inside look into Brea's inspiration, color palette, and community.
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Tell us a little about your journey as an artist. Did you always know that you wanted to be one?
Art has always been an important part of my life, but it wasn't until about the end of my undergrad that I realized it was what I wanted to pursue as a career and life practice. My grandfather was a lettering artist for DC Comics, so from a young age he encouraged me to create and taught me how to draw. I started taking painting classes at age 14 and it feels like I haven't stopped painting since then.
Leg Forest II, oil on canvas, 2022.
Your style of painting and color palette are very unique, can you share any influences or any events that led to developing your style of work?
Thank you :) When I was younger I was heavily influenced by both Marlene Dumas and Francis Bacon, I think even though their influence may not be as immediately apparent now, they led me to start creating these kind of abstract, drippy figures. My forms have definitely solidified over the years but I still see this initial influence in some of my brushstrokes and the melding of colors within my figures.
I keep a notebook of all my color combinations so my palette for each painting usually builds on the last one. I love mixing colors, my palettes for skin tones are usually referential - for example I'll try to make a body like a sunset and see where that takes me.
What concepts/themes are you exploring in your practice?
I've really been enjoying looking at/painting men from my own queer female gaze. I've also been thinking a lot about community and how it forms/informs one's sense of self. I've been representing this through these tangled masses of bodies where clothing and material objects serve as more distinct markers of identity than faces do. Some other themes I'm always interested in are performances of gender and sexuality and moments of magic and transcendence in queer spaces.
Q: How would you describe your work to someone who has never seen it?
A: Tongue-in-cheek, flamboyant, strange, colorful, fun
Brea Weinreb, she/her (b. 1994, Long Island, New York) is a figurative painter based in Los Angeles. Her paintings of crowds of men depict and decode moments of camaraderie, solidarity, performativity and exclusivity within male homosocial spaces. She holds a Dual B.A. in Art Practice and English from the University of California, Berkeley. Her work was featured on the cover of the Pacific Coast Issue #157 of New American Painting, and has been exhibited at Monya Rowe Gallery (New York), Anat Ebgi Gallery (Los Angeles), Taymour Grahne Projects (London, UK), Steven Zevitas Gallery (Boston), and more. Public collections include the Green Family Art Foundation in Dallas, TX.
Follow her on IG and check out her website here.
Leg Forest II, oil on canvas, 2022.
July 2023
Introduction written by Kimberlean Donis
Interview Conducted by Paul Hill
Trigger Warning: Discussion of Sexual Abuse
In a recent interview, artist Augustina Wang gave Strada a glimpse into her fantasy world of "For Glory and For Love," where Asian femmes are powerful protagonists in an epic battle for justice. Hailing from the vibrant diasporic community of Flushing, Queens, Augustina Wang (b. 1999) is a New York-based painter who delves into her historically marginalized identity as an Asian femme and first-generation Chinese American woman.
Through her intricate worldbuilding process, Wang channels from an immense reservoir of feminine rage and ethereal retribution, crafting a realm where Asian women have and will always survive. Her masterly paintings portray a soft yet potent embodied resistance, urging viewers to envision a world devoid of pervasive sexism and misogyny, while challenging their perceptions of femininity. Beyond the surface level of what is depicted, Wang’s visionary creations defy fatalism, offering a resounding testament to the resilience and otherworldly capabilities of Asian femmes.
Can you tell us about the inspiration behind the collection and the overarching theme or concept you were exploring?
"For Glory and For Love" is inspired by the idea of "roleplaying" power. "Glory" is an overt power, grace, or strength that comes from combat or conquest; "love" is softer, but an instinctual innate power. A big crux of this show is illustrating that these types of powers are equal, and the soft and gentle possess as much strength as the hard and worn, and some or all beings can possess both simultaneously.
"Roleplaying" has been a shorthand to describe my practice. My whole life I've enjoyed creating characters and stories, whether it'd be my own or part of some internet subculture. The ability to shapeshift and use these characters as "proxies" is incredibly empowering, especially when it comes to healing traumas; I find the ability to lose yourself in your delusions, to simply pretend, in a painting practice interesting. I came about [this description of] this coping method/artistic practice after coming out of the COVID pandemic and outing a sexual abuser while in isolation. I felt so deeply alone; it legitimately felt like I had to rebuild myself-- my body, my ego, my spirit... into a new whole. I felt like a warrior woman-- a woman who was forced to be brave; it was a galvanizing force to reckon with.
How would you describe your artistic style and how does it manifest in this particular body of work?
My style is heavily influenced by nostalgia; I pay [homage] to vintage anime and manga, video games, and even fanart. A lot of the threads of what I'm inspired by are, by art world standards, the "lowest of the low." There's fine art, then maybe illustrations, then graphic design/advertising, then... fanart. A lot of what I'm inspired by comes from the communities of my youth, where a disenfranchised Asian girl forged her identity online and found peace with herself where no one in the real world could offer it to her.
I'm very fascinated by the idea of the meta-human, or the neo-human. A lot of contemporary art, especially contemporary video or internet art, investigates the intersection of where man meets machine and when man becomes machine; they use the language of avatars or AI. A lot of this work tends to be depressing, as one can hardly talk about human evolution without talking about capitalism, but for me, I wanted to be in the same sphere of conversation without nihilism. In my mind, there's hardly a point to expand on when it comes to learning about how bad the world is-- why not use this language of "avatars" to instead escape? Into a world where colors are brighter, and where conflict is reduced to play or whimsy?
The exhibition seems to evoke a strong emotional response. What emotions were you aiming to evoke, and how did you convey them through your artwork?
I think I really wanted to evoke a sense of "completeness." Of a cycle finally finishing a revolution.
As all the figures were invented, I saw them as more spiritual markers or forms than actual people. In the exhibition, as a whole, I sort of saw a hero's journey-- there was a story that felt like it happened to interweave from canvas to canvas, but it also felt like it extended even before the show was conceived. A lot of years of pain, struggle, self-love, and self-retribution led to giving birth to this exhibition, and I saw it as the best stepping stone to making a debut as an artist. As an art maker, as a woman to be heard.
Your use of color and texture in the pieces is quite striking. Could you elaborate on your creative process and how you approached the visual aspects of the exhibition?
I typically like to collect a bunch of photos online as a "cache;" they don't have to be direct reference photos, but they're things that psychologically or emotionally call upon what I'm feeling. A lot of my creative process happens right before I sleep. There's a wildness and lucidity to the thoughts that come at that hour-- I feel like they're deeply subconscious and intriguing. I don't know what they could mean until after I paint it.
Most of my paintings start with a gessoed surface, with a layer of yellow or brown oil paint as an underpainting. I'm partial to Conté pastels, and I like to make a quick sketch with it and gamsol. From there, I paint rather quickly and intuitively; my colors are inspired by old shoujo manga and vintage anime-- saturated colors with blushed cheeks, where everything seems to sparkle just a bit.
What kind of message or narrative do you hope viewers take away from experiencing your exhibition?
"For Glory and For Love" was mostly a love letter to myself. There was this girl who was never comfortable in her skin, race, or body... and felt sort of unloved and marginalized. As she grew up she realized that the world truly was deeply racist, deeply misogynistic, and she had to grow up and just be brave to survive. I made this show for her, to tell her that her bravery mattered and that she could be proud of who she was-- that pain did not need to define her, that she can grow infinitely beyond the boundaries set for her.
Allegories and stories are what drive my work, and I realized that even profoundly personal experiences are never universal-- whether that be bad or good, I cannot say. But, I know there is power in unity and solidarity, and power in representation, and ultimately, I hope those who can feel what I've painted find peace in what I've made.
Did you face any challenges or breakthrough moments while creating this collection? How did you overcome them?
Just making the show was a huge physical and emotional challenge. It very much felt like giving birth-- every minute you spend making a painting, you can feel it in your back and your knees and your wrists. And when it was finally done, I felt a sort of postpartum depression: now what? The studio is empty, and you're alone again. Eventually, you come around to celebrating yourself and your work-- but no one can quite explain exactly how that emptiness feels in that in-between time.
Many of the pieces feature intricate details and symbolism. Can you share some insights into the symbolism and hidden meanings within your artwork?
One symbol I keep coming back to is the weapon and the armor set.
Armor is so beautiful-- a metal case tailored to the body; it is meant to protect, not attack, and it can be adorned and etched. It's a second skin; a symbol of war without it being inherently a violent object itself.
Another symbol is the weapon-- I typically reference swords. While this object is inherently violent, it too can be adorned and decorated into an object of beauty. The idea of a phallic symbol of power becoming embellished and ornamented becomes an incredibly fascinating idea as a symbol.
In the current art world landscape, where trends come and go quickly, how do you strive to maintain your unique artistic voice and stand out?
I think sticking to yourself is the best way to maintain that voice. Ultimately, art itself is not trendy, it's the fickleness of the market, of money, of collectors-- but the paintings one creates, as well as the creator themselves can never be a "trend." Creators are people with infinite stories to tell, and there is no way two people can tell the same story twice-- everyone is unique to some degree. I believe if your inspiration comes from yourself, and that drive to create comes from within, then it seems like a solved problem.
For me, I went to art school and learned the entirety of the Western canon before I realized that there was something impersonal with being inspired by that history of art. I realized I could make much more genuine work if I rejected it, as radical as it was, and looked at art in a much more intimate way-- internet subcultures, comics, video games... things that really did inspire.
Were there any specific artists or movements that inspired or influenced you while creating this exhibition?
I'm definitely inspired by various manga artists like CLAMP or Hirohiko Araki. And despite my idealistic rejection of Western canon, there are certain artists I look up to. I'm inspired by the pre-Raphaelites like John Everett Millias or William Holman Hunt, but also by female Surrealists like Agnes Pelton, Remedias Varo, and Dorothea Tanning.
I think because I place so much inspiration on the media I consume, I also was inadvertently influenced by card game/comic art, like that of Alex Horley or Steve Prescott, both more commercial artists.
How does your personal background or experiences shape your artistic process and the content of your work?
I come from a first-generation, Chinese immigrant family and grew up in Flushing, Queens; I was also raised by a single mother. I grew up never thinking that women were weak, and even if one was weak or vulnerable, it never discounted their power or their worth. I think this sort of fueled the fire that led to "For Glory and For Love," beyond my life experiences and trauma meant to be healed.
As that young Asian-American girl, there weren't many communities that I could genuinely be a part of. I was neither Chinese-enough, nor American-enough, and I didn't know where my place was in the world beyond the stereotypes Asian kids grow up with. It was isolating; I had a handful of friends, but I found solace on roleplaying forums, fanfiction sites, Deviantart, Tumblr... sites where I could be afforded a different identity or body. There was an element of self-hate, especially when I chose my character to be a blond-haired, blue-eyed white girl, but as I grew up I've learned to love what I have-- all my paintings feature bright-yellow skin, blushing cheeks, slanted eyes, all worth love and celebration. And, if it means anything if I ever play a game where I customize my avatar-- they will look like me.
What are your hopes and aspirations for the future of your artistic career, especially following the success of this solo exhibition?
There's so much lined up! I have a residency coming up, as well as more shows in talks, but I think right now a dream of mine right now is to do something back for the community of Flushing. I don't know how to get it going, but I would love to paint the people that live there and sort of show how strong a Chinatown can really be. I guess the dream would be to work with Queens Museum, or another NYC Museum that could accommodate the vision of a thriving but otherwise sort of forgotten community when it comes to representation. But a project of that size would be something to think about way down the line.
Another dream is to be in a Whitney Retrospective, but that's every artist's dream!
Follow Augustina's journey on Instagram and visit her website here.
Introduction written by Kimberlean Donis
Interview Conducted by Paul Hill
Trigger Warning: Discussion of Sexual Abuse
In a recent interview, artist Augustina Wang gave Strada a glimpse into her fantasy world of "For Glory and For Love," where Asian femmes are powerful protagonists in an epic battle for justice. Hailing from the vibrant diasporic community of Flushing, Queens, Augustina Wang (b. 1999) is a New York-based painter who delves into her historically marginalized identity as an Asian femme and first-generation Chinese American woman.
Through her intricate worldbuilding process, Wang channels from an immense reservoir of feminine rage and ethereal retribution, crafting a realm where Asian women have and will always survive. Her masterly paintings portray a soft yet potent embodied resistance, urging viewers to envision a world devoid of pervasive sexism and misogyny, while challenging their perceptions of femininity. Beyond the surface level of what is depicted, Wang’s visionary creations defy fatalism, offering a resounding testament to the resilience and otherworldly capabilities of Asian femmes.
Can you tell us about the inspiration behind the collection and the overarching theme or concept you were exploring?
"For Glory and For Love" is inspired by the idea of "roleplaying" power. "Glory" is an overt power, grace, or strength that comes from combat or conquest; "love" is softer, but an instinctual innate power. A big crux of this show is illustrating that these types of powers are equal, and the soft and gentle possess as much strength as the hard and worn, and some or all beings can possess both simultaneously.
"Roleplaying" has been a shorthand to describe my practice. My whole life I've enjoyed creating characters and stories, whether it'd be my own or part of some internet subculture. The ability to shapeshift and use these characters as "proxies" is incredibly empowering, especially when it comes to healing traumas; I find the ability to lose yourself in your delusions, to simply pretend, in a painting practice interesting. I came about [this description of] this coping method/artistic practice after coming out of the COVID pandemic and outing a sexual abuser while in isolation. I felt so deeply alone; it legitimately felt like I had to rebuild myself-- my body, my ego, my spirit... into a new whole. I felt like a warrior woman-- a woman who was forced to be brave; it was a galvanizing force to reckon with.
How would you describe your artistic style and how does it manifest in this particular body of work?
My style is heavily influenced by nostalgia; I pay [homage] to vintage anime and manga, video games, and even fanart. A lot of the threads of what I'm inspired by are, by art world standards, the "lowest of the low." There's fine art, then maybe illustrations, then graphic design/advertising, then... fanart. A lot of what I'm inspired by comes from the communities of my youth, where a disenfranchised Asian girl forged her identity online and found peace with herself where no one in the real world could offer it to her.
I'm very fascinated by the idea of the meta-human, or the neo-human. A lot of contemporary art, especially contemporary video or internet art, investigates the intersection of where man meets machine and when man becomes machine; they use the language of avatars or AI. A lot of this work tends to be depressing, as one can hardly talk about human evolution without talking about capitalism, but for me, I wanted to be in the same sphere of conversation without nihilism. In my mind, there's hardly a point to expand on when it comes to learning about how bad the world is-- why not use this language of "avatars" to instead escape? Into a world where colors are brighter, and where conflict is reduced to play or whimsy?
The exhibition seems to evoke a strong emotional response. What emotions were you aiming to evoke, and how did you convey them through your artwork?
I think I really wanted to evoke a sense of "completeness." Of a cycle finally finishing a revolution.
As all the figures were invented, I saw them as more spiritual markers or forms than actual people. In the exhibition, as a whole, I sort of saw a hero's journey-- there was a story that felt like it happened to interweave from canvas to canvas, but it also felt like it extended even before the show was conceived. A lot of years of pain, struggle, self-love, and self-retribution led to giving birth to this exhibition, and I saw it as the best stepping stone to making a debut as an artist. As an art maker, as a woman to be heard.
Your use of color and texture in the pieces is quite striking. Could you elaborate on your creative process and how you approached the visual aspects of the exhibition?
I typically like to collect a bunch of photos online as a "cache;" they don't have to be direct reference photos, but they're things that psychologically or emotionally call upon what I'm feeling. A lot of my creative process happens right before I sleep. There's a wildness and lucidity to the thoughts that come at that hour-- I feel like they're deeply subconscious and intriguing. I don't know what they could mean until after I paint it.
Most of my paintings start with a gessoed surface, with a layer of yellow or brown oil paint as an underpainting. I'm partial to Conté pastels, and I like to make a quick sketch with it and gamsol. From there, I paint rather quickly and intuitively; my colors are inspired by old shoujo manga and vintage anime-- saturated colors with blushed cheeks, where everything seems to sparkle just a bit.
What kind of message or narrative do you hope viewers take away from experiencing your exhibition?
"For Glory and For Love" was mostly a love letter to myself. There was this girl who was never comfortable in her skin, race, or body... and felt sort of unloved and marginalized. As she grew up she realized that the world truly was deeply racist, deeply misogynistic, and she had to grow up and just be brave to survive. I made this show for her, to tell her that her bravery mattered and that she could be proud of who she was-- that pain did not need to define her, that she can grow infinitely beyond the boundaries set for her.
Allegories and stories are what drive my work, and I realized that even profoundly personal experiences are never universal-- whether that be bad or good, I cannot say. But, I know there is power in unity and solidarity, and power in representation, and ultimately, I hope those who can feel what I've painted find peace in what I've made.
Did you face any challenges or breakthrough moments while creating this collection? How did you overcome them?
Just making the show was a huge physical and emotional challenge. It very much felt like giving birth-- every minute you spend making a painting, you can feel it in your back and your knees and your wrists. And when it was finally done, I felt a sort of postpartum depression: now what? The studio is empty, and you're alone again. Eventually, you come around to celebrating yourself and your work-- but no one can quite explain exactly how that emptiness feels in that in-between time.
Many of the pieces feature intricate details and symbolism. Can you share some insights into the symbolism and hidden meanings within your artwork?
One symbol I keep coming back to is the weapon and the armor set.
Armor is so beautiful-- a metal case tailored to the body; it is meant to protect, not attack, and it can be adorned and etched. It's a second skin; a symbol of war without it being inherently a violent object itself.
Another symbol is the weapon-- I typically reference swords. While this object is inherently violent, it too can be adorned and decorated into an object of beauty. The idea of a phallic symbol of power becoming embellished and ornamented becomes an incredibly fascinating idea as a symbol.
In the current art world landscape, where trends come and go quickly, how do you strive to maintain your unique artistic voice and stand out?
I think sticking to yourself is the best way to maintain that voice. Ultimately, art itself is not trendy, it's the fickleness of the market, of money, of collectors-- but the paintings one creates, as well as the creator themselves can never be a "trend." Creators are people with infinite stories to tell, and there is no way two people can tell the same story twice-- everyone is unique to some degree. I believe if your inspiration comes from yourself, and that drive to create comes from within, then it seems like a solved problem.
For me, I went to art school and learned the entirety of the Western canon before I realized that there was something impersonal with being inspired by that history of art. I realized I could make much more genuine work if I rejected it, as radical as it was, and looked at art in a much more intimate way-- internet subcultures, comics, video games... things that really did inspire.
Were there any specific artists or movements that inspired or influenced you while creating this exhibition?
I'm definitely inspired by various manga artists like CLAMP or Hirohiko Araki. And despite my idealistic rejection of Western canon, there are certain artists I look up to. I'm inspired by the pre-Raphaelites like John Everett Millias or William Holman Hunt, but also by female Surrealists like Agnes Pelton, Remedias Varo, and Dorothea Tanning.
I think because I place so much inspiration on the media I consume, I also was inadvertently influenced by card game/comic art, like that of Alex Horley or Steve Prescott, both more commercial artists.
How does your personal background or experiences shape your artistic process and the content of your work?
I come from a first-generation, Chinese immigrant family and grew up in Flushing, Queens; I was also raised by a single mother. I grew up never thinking that women were weak, and even if one was weak or vulnerable, it never discounted their power or their worth. I think this sort of fueled the fire that led to "For Glory and For Love," beyond my life experiences and trauma meant to be healed.
As that young Asian-American girl, there weren't many communities that I could genuinely be a part of. I was neither Chinese-enough, nor American-enough, and I didn't know where my place was in the world beyond the stereotypes Asian kids grow up with. It was isolating; I had a handful of friends, but I found solace on roleplaying forums, fanfiction sites, Deviantart, Tumblr... sites where I could be afforded a different identity or body. There was an element of self-hate, especially when I chose my character to be a blond-haired, blue-eyed white girl, but as I grew up I've learned to love what I have-- all my paintings feature bright-yellow skin, blushing cheeks, slanted eyes, all worth love and celebration. And, if it means anything if I ever play a game where I customize my avatar-- they will look like me.
What are your hopes and aspirations for the future of your artistic career, especially following the success of this solo exhibition?
There's so much lined up! I have a residency coming up, as well as more shows in talks, but I think right now a dream of mine right now is to do something back for the community of Flushing. I don't know how to get it going, but I would love to paint the people that live there and sort of show how strong a Chinatown can really be. I guess the dream would be to work with Queens Museum, or another NYC Museum that could accommodate the vision of a thriving but otherwise sort of forgotten community when it comes to representation. But a project of that size would be something to think about way down the line.
Another dream is to be in a Whitney Retrospective, but that's every artist's dream!
Follow Augustina's journey on Instagram and visit her website here.
