In conversation with Uma Halsted
Photographs by Zita Surprenant
Introduce yourself.
I’m Viola. I’m a junior at Barnard, doing a philosophy major. I’m from Central Massachusetts—part rural, part suburban.
Describe your work in three words. Describe yourself in three words.
My work: Irrelevant Ransom Note. Me: Short Imposter Ginger.
Do you have any favorite artists that inspire you?
For animation, Terry Gilliam, the “Monty Python” animator.
When did you start making art, conscious of it being a product?
Probably not until the end of freshman year here. Before, I was indoctrinated into the STEM world. I came in as a physics major, switched to math at the end of my freshman year, and then to philosophy at the end of my sophomore year.
Did you notice any shifts in what you were interested in artistically as your academic focus changed?
When I was doing a physics track, anything that wasn’t [physics] felt like a side project. Whereas, once I started doing more non-STEM things, I was like, “Oh, this can actually be a thing that I can think about, and put work and time into.”
Do you find that holding onto, and relinquishing, control comes into play in that kind of creative process?
When you try to hold onto the idea of something turning out the way it should in your mind, it always ends up winding up a little off. And then that ‘being off’ seems disnoble—[it] turns into feeling worthless. But then you realize that chain of reasoning doesn’t really matter. It doesn’t matter whether one little thing’s at an angle or not.
Do you have a first memory of creating when you were young?
Honestly, not so much. I do have some memories of making weird drinks to consume as a kid, with a bunch of lemon juice and vanilla extract—with kids putting all of [the] other spices into a liquid and then being like, “Let’s drink it!” So that was probably my entry into creating.
When you are physically making the work, do you feel like you snap into the experience of being removed from reality? Or are you usually quite grounded in reality, and just recalling past experiences and ideas?
I’m not super floaty or whatever. I’m definitely there. I do tend to get super drawn into it though, as in I forget about other things.
You talk about detaching from reality and from the need to make a ‘good’ product. And then having the space to be silly and fun, and not take yourself too seriously. I am wondering what that looks like when you’re making your art. What does that look and feel like for you as the creator?
We’re all raised in the capitalist world, and so we’re all taught that your value is tied to you producing things—producing things which are good and can be marketed, or which serve some sort of purpose in that world. Once you realize that that’s nonsense, it opens things up a lot more.
Do you feel like you can ever fully detach yourself from that world?
No… I don’t know. I’ve had some times where I’ve legitimately detached from reality, and my brain’s doing interesting kinds of moves. In those times… yeah. I can [detach] and I have. There are other things that you don’t want to detach from. But at the same time, when you’re in that kind of space—thinking about production and making things that are good, and would have a high monetary value—is just so ridiculous and out there that it seems entirely foreign.
What did you end up doing in that space? Was there any connection to making art?
Try to be calm and wait until eventually things settle down. And then they did. Since then, I’ve done some artwork in which part of what I’m thinking about are those experiences I’ve had. I did one where I was trying to capture the feeling of being in one of those photo stand-ins, with the cut-out faces. It’s like that, but the whole world is just that board. And then it’s just your eyes looking out.
Who or what are you making your art for? And because of that, how does your process change?
When I’m making things, I like to be having fun with it, and let things be silly. Then when I have something that’s done and I’m going to give it to someone, it’s almost more like comics—like, “Here’s something that will make you laugh.” If I stay in a fun mindset, then hopefully [my work] winds up more light than if not.
Why do you want your art to be light?
Not everything that I’ve made is intended to be light. But I feel like everything is so meaningless, or crap like that. So why not have things that are fun and light?