Vicki Smith: A Remembered Sensation
Viewing Vicki Smith’s paintings is a visceral and awe-inspiring experience. Perhaps it's the movement and flow of the water, or the unparalleled level of detail she’s able to achieve with every brushstroke. In her current series of work, Vicki explores water as a metaphor for memory as she focuses her attention on the remembered sensations that one feels when viewing a work of art.
Tell me about your background and where your creative journey began.
Art was always a natural part of my life. I was praised and encouraged as a child, and the art room was where I was most comfortable in school. I didn’t really understand what an artist was, but I never doubted that art was my path. From 1977 to 1981 I attended the Ontario College of Art in Toronto (now OCADU), with my final year spent studying abroad in Florence, Italy. After graduation I did what many artists do, I got a 9 to 5 job and worked on my art at night. I always assumed that an artist got a job to support their family and made art to support their soul. It took me a long time to understand the business of fine art. I’ve had a dedicated full time practice for the past 25 years.
How has your work shifted and evolved over time?
The female figure has been central to my work for the past 40 years. Through the centuries art history has seen the female figure almost exclusively through the male gaze. I am acutely aware that as a female artist I need to explain the female form with my own voice and create a new and honest dialogue. For years I described the figure floating in isolated minimal backgrounds. About 10 years ago I decided that placing my women in water gave them a recognizable place to exist. I deliberately keep the figure and the watery landscape anonymous so that the viewer can easily enter with their own memories. I have recently become very interested in how art affects the individual viewing the work and have been thinking of the figure as a placeholder for a remembered sensation.
What led you to focus on swimmers as your primary subject?
After watching my daughter swim in a northern lake, I decided that placing my figures in water gave them a recognizable place to exist, and thus a place of entry for the viewer. Water is a very visceral experience. Gazing at water can stimulate a sensual memory. I hope that the abstract movement of the water around the body will create a space for the viewer to bring their own remembered experience. I think art performs the therapeutic task of holding space, and like water, art will reflect back to us whatever emotions and experiences we arrive with.
What role does memory play in your recent work?
I have a continuing fascination with how art can trigger an involuntary memory. A memory that is deeper than the recognition of the image. Art acts as a catalyst that can prompt a spontaneous release of emotional memory that may never become fully cognitive, but will present itself as a lingering sensation and a wordless knowing. The fascination and awe that people feel for a certain piece of art is deeply rooted in their personal memory.
Which artists have impacted your work?
Jenny Saville and Hanneline Rogeberg for their ability to depict flesh. Ann Gale for her handling of paint and colour. Agnes Martin for her ability to bring us to meditation. Ad Rienhardt because his black paintings demand that we stop and wait for our eyes to adjust. Anne Carson because her written poetry is the ultimate abstract beauty.
What does a typical day in the studio look like for you, and how has the current pandemic impacted your practice?
Like most artists I’ve been in training for pandemic isolation for years. There is no other way to create then to give yourself the time and space to do it. I’m usually in the studio by mid-morning. I sit with the work in progress and try to decide where to take it. The first few hours of painting are an exercise in patience, and by noon I will most likely have scraped the fresh paint off, which gets me to a place where I realize I have nothing to lose. The rest of the afternoon is much more productive, but it takes those few hours in the morning for me to shed my ego and become open to the work. The same thing happens day after day.
What are your greatest accomplishments as an artist thus far?
Finally realizing that part of my job is to put my work and my voice out there. Understanding that art will grow and morph in the presents of others, and the dialogue that it creates is an important part of my artistic growth. I’m very fortunate to have tremendous support and exposure through the Bau-xi Gallery. I am proudly aware that even though making art is an all consuming and monomaniacal task, I somehow managed to raise a lovely family while building my career.
What are your future goals and aspirations?
I’d like to continue on this endless path of opening my heart so that others may be in theirs.