Brianna Caryll

Sculptress
Territory of the Mississaugas of the Credit, the Anishnabeg, the Chippewa, the Haudenosaunee and the Huron-Wendat (Toronto, ON, Canada)



Mask, Paper, Glue, Acrylic Paint, 13” x 9” x 2”, 2022, NFS
Mask Mold, Clay


Artist Statement:

This is my first piece in a very long time. It may or may not be finished. It represents a meaningful time of  getting back into practice, finding joy and community in art making. It will be part of a series inspired by my seventh grade mime teacher, the miraculous, Jani Lauzon. 

When Calling in the Muse was conceived, I immediately knew that I wanted to revisit masks as a form of embodying what lies beneath. (Not as a way to hide, as can be associated with masks.) I followed Ms. Lauzon’s approach of sculpting clay molds of the face on which a paper mâché mask gets built-up through layering. I played with various inspirations to call in my muse: visualizations (Lauzon method), altar-making, painting, music and dancing. Always dancing.


Bio:

Making, or rather playing at making art has long been a spiritual practice for me. I probably first became aware of the healing powers of sculpting as early as five, walking home alone from kindergarten under a blue sky. How magical to discover that beneath a small pelt of freshly laid sod lay a treasure of red squishy clay! A flipped over green and black layer gave way to scooping, patting, rolling, imagining, etc. It seemed impossible to feel lonely or scared in that moment. What I would come to call contentment.

I had the good fortune to attend a full-time arts school. We spent half our days outside the classroom and in the dance studio, art room, orchestra pit, and on the stage. As a dance major with poor drawing skills, I could have fun in art class with low expectations from the teachers. And yet I developed a belief (shared by almost anyone who is not a right brain sketch artist) that I was bad at art and so upon graduation packed in my brushes. I didn’t paint for another 25 years.

After experiencing a major mental health breakdown in my late thirties, art found me again. The healing power of playing with paint and materials uplifted me. I connected with that tiny girl in the red earth. I would make childlike drawings or collage and learned to feel love for my creations. This process of allowing myself to fall in love with whatever I made healed me.

I came to be curious about art, enrolled in a part-time adult art school, attended drop-in drawing classes, studied with very serious oil painters and then eased myself back onto a gentler path that brought me to Open Studio, a group of wonderful artists and a tremendous support for a recovering artist. 


Contact: babayagaliveshere@gmail.com