Meg Wolensky: Pride and Resilience
Contemporary artist Meg Wolensky (she/they) resides in Philadelphia as a queer nonbinary visual artist, channeling the transformative power of oil painting as a therapeutic outlet in their journey of healing from CPTSD. Wolensky’s work intricately weaves together vivid fragments of personal experiences, memories, and dreams into cohesive expressions that resonate deeply with queer identity. These evocative paintings resemble investigative collages, blending colorful narratives with trompe-l'œil elements and symbols of fleeting time.
How did your creative journey begin?
I have always been an artist, but the driving force behind my practice as a queer making materialized after the 2016 election. In the days after the election, I felt that it was important for me to find who I was, declare it and to make this work, lest my identities and others in my community be erased or endangered.
Where do you find inspiration for your work?
As a still-life painter, my practice is more than just capturing objects on canvas; it's about documenting the essence of queer life in all its complexity. Through my work, I strive to shine a light on the struggles and triumphs of the queer community, both past and present. Drawing inspiration from ancient texts like those documented in Anne Winter's Fragments of Sappho, I weave together fragments of queer literature, personal stories, and resistance movements to create a tapestry of resilience, defiance, and survival.
This work is also inspired by the technical aspects of Dutch golden age vanitas, referencing techniques historically used to depict collections of symbolic objects communicating the inevitability of death, the transience and vanity of earthly achievements and pleasures, and exhorting the viewer to consider mortality and to repent. My paintings flip this concept, weaving complex narratives of resilience, defiance, acceptance and survival in a world where queerness is deemed sinful. This work isn't just about pretty pictures; it's about capturing the essence of who we are as queer people; diamonds formed under the immense pressure to conform within society. Inspired by what is lost in fragments of affirming ancient queer writings, I paint to reconcile fragments of our collective past and present.
How has your work evolved over the last few years?
As my work has matured and I in making it, my paintings have evolved to ruminate on topics outside of my own personal relationships, dreams, aspirations, and experiences in the world. Instead, I’m interested in connecting the work to a sense of cultural ancestry and generations of queer experience. I’ve also developed a strong interest in cataloguing limited-release queer publications and resistance materials like protest posters, signs, erotica and zines. I love exploring these materials and consider them to be art pieces in their own right, but it’s my mission to bring these histories to life in the canon of fine art history. It’s wild to think “how did queer and trans people stay alive, find love, and even build lives together?” in the past.
What does a typical day in the studio look like for you, and how has your art practice grown or changed?
I work full-time as a Managing Director of educational programs for creative students of all ages at Philadelphia’s only remaining independent art and design college. Outside of my studio practice, I am dedicated to creating accessible arts experiences and work-readiness opportunities for marginalized professional artists and youth and consider that to be a second practice of creative strategy.
When I’m done at my job, I come home and paint. I find that when I’m busy during the day, I’m brimming with ideas for my studio at night. I’m struck to start writing poetic text on the bus ride home or right when I wake up in the morning. I don’t rush the process and find myself making around 10 paintings per year as objects accumulate in my life. I find that the paintings I make align with the poetic text, usually by accident because it’s all rolling around in my subconscious, kind of free for all and always by accident. When I’m actually painting, I’m pretty much always watching hours and hours of true crime youtubers thinking about all the ways I’m lucky to be alive. It’s a wild, unruly, kinda freaky yet deeply reflective and comforting way to exist for a few hours at a time.
Which experiences have impacted your work as an artist?
Much of the imagery in my work has been pulled from narratives in my personal romantic, friendship and familial relationships, dreams, ancient mythologies and queer literature. I rely heavily on my subconscious and intuition to reveal images, objects, textures and patterns. I have formative experiences of abuse, betrayal, abandonment, and being outed and disowned for queerness, (which, as I’m sure you can imagine, was all beyond difficult,) but those experiences are their own refiner’s fire that shaped me into an unbreakable resilient form. The give and take of personal relationships amid healing from these major conflict arcs has been difficult to navigate and much of the work dives into that discomfort, rejection, pain, and ultimate joy of finding acceptance and affirmation.
The experience of being seen and validated in my queerness has been transformative for my practice and personal journey to healing. My work has been exhibited in venues across the country, including Drexel University, Kutztown University, University of Southern Mississippi, Moore College of Art & Design, the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts (PAFA), Woodmere Art Museum, InLiquid Gallery, Seraphin Gallery, Rodger LaPelle Galleries, William Way LGBT Community Center, Democratic National Convention, Painted Bride Art Center, Abington Art Center, the Banana Factory Arts & Education Center and many more. In 2023, I was the recipient of InLiquid's Dina Wind Fellowship by a jury of outstanding curators, artists, and arts leaders from around the Greater Philadelphia area.
When I’m not painting, I’m coaching teams to success in creating arts education experiences with a big impact. My background in both fine arts and arts administration allows me to provide holistic solutions that are informed by creative strategy, nonprofit management, and audience research. I have the pleasure of developing creative strategy and programs, which I find particularly moving because I, myself, was a participant in my employer’s creative youth programming as a teen during some of the most volatile years of my life as a young queer person.
Outside of my day job and studio practice, I offer my expertise in curatorial work, grant-writing, art handling, and arts nonprofit administration to fellow queer artists, students, organizations, and initiatives. By sharing my knowledge and skills with others, I hope to inspire and empower the next generation of creatives to make their mark on the world through art.
How has social media impacted your work?
Art has always been a powerful tool for self and community building, but social media has taken that community to new global heights. I’m an avid consumer of kind of raunchy and unabashed queer publications, advice columns, vintage personal ads and archives on social media like Autostraddle (@autostraddle), Lola Trif (@onyour.knees), Maddy Court (@xenaworrierprincess), and poet Riley Mac (@rileyxmacx). I also obviously love anything and everything made by Jenna Gribbon (@jennagribbon), Katie Rauth (@_sugarm0mmy_) and like a million billion other pensive, dyke-y mommy-energy contemporary artists. I love pieces of our culture that are unpolished, raw expression of femininity, and this community’s most challenging realities with poor systemic support.
Can you share more about the themes or concepts that you frequently explore in your work?
Queer people have always existed, we are here now, and our stories will endure for generations to come. I aim to not only celebrate the beauty and diversity of queer identity but also to acknowledge the deep-rooted systemic challenges that continue to impact our community. By delving into the depths of history and exploring the intricacies of modern-day existence, I hope to create a space where every aspect of queer identity is honored and cherished.
In a world where being different can sometimes feel life-threatening, I want my art to be a beacon of hope and strength for my fellow queer folks. I aim to honor our history while also shedding light on the challenges we still face today. We have always been here, living vibrant lives despite adversity. And I believe that by sharing our stories through art, we can inspire future generations to embrace their true selves with pride and resilience.
Website: www.megwolensky.com
Instagram: @aantics