We recently connected with Hosanna Rubio and have shared our conversation below.
Hi Hosanna, thanks for joining us today. When did you first know you wanted to pursue a creative/artistic path professionally?
The idea of being an artist was something I was drawn to from a very young age, as I was raised around the arts. I remember spending long afternoons fascinated by the languid strokes of my grandmother’s paintbrush as she sculpted color into fields and flowers, and the soft rasp of my mother’s fingers on paper as she diffused charcoal into soft shadow and light. In school I thrived in artistic subjects and went on to study Art Education in college, hoping to share my love for the creative process with others.
In order to have a depth and a breadth of artistic knowledge, members of the Art Education program at California State University Long Beach were expected to have an expertise in one area (mine was in drawing and painting) and an introductory knowledge of a wide array of other mediums. With one semester left to go in my degree, I chose to sign up for Enameling as my final class on a whim; I didn’t fully grasp the class description, but I knew with my hand tremor I would be miserable in Photography.
Enameling is the process of fusing powdered glass onto metal in a kiln or with a torch to make jewelry and objects. Coming from a two-dimensional focus in drawing and painting into a medium that allowed me to translate these designs into colorful three-dimensional pieces that engaged with the body was a liberating feeling, and I was instantly hooked. I put my degree in Art Education on hold, diving deep into every class offered by the Metals and Jewelry program over several years, before finishing my degree.
While teaching has and will always be a passion of mine, becoming a high school art teacher no longer had the appeal it did when I entered college, not once I had felt the fire creating work in metal and glass inspired in me. I decided to pursue my Masters in Metals and Jewelry, accepting a place in the program at East Carolina University, which has a strong history in the enameling field. This experience led to incredible growth for me as an artist, not only in my work but in my professional connections, as I had the opportunity to attend and host conferences, teach workshops, and speak at museums.
Awesome – so before we get into the rest of our questions, can you briefly introduce yourself to our readers.
I was born and raised in Southern California, but in 2014 I made the decision to move 3,000 miles cross-country to Greenville, North Carolina to pursue my graduate degree in Metals Design. I spent several years post-graduation happily building a career in the arts in Greenville and beyond, up until the pandemic and my father’s health concerns prompted a move back to Southern California, where I currently live with my partner, Matt, and our rescue pitbull mix, Carrie Fisher.
When I’m not teaching Jewelry and Metalsmithing courses at Long Beach City College or working at Otto Frei, a family-owned metals and jewelry tool supplier, I like to spend my time creating wearable art pieces and small scale sculptures that explore my experiences with nature, health, and the body using techniques such as enameling and casting. Creating layered, detailed pieces allows me to find balance in the chaotic, to attempt to exert control over the uncontrollable aspects of my life and in the world at large.
I’ve heard a lot of artists joke that making art is cheaper than therapy, and while I’m not entirely sure that the math adds up on that one, I think it’s true that for many of us the studio can become a place of healing, a bastion from the world outside. My experiences are not universal, but I hope to inspire an atmosphere of dialogue with my work to show that sometimes moments of pain and tragedy can offer us the greatest opportunities for beauty and transformation.
Let’s talk about resilience next – do you have a story you can share with us?
At the end of 2019, beginning of 2020, I felt like my artistic career was on the rise. I had been named an Emerging Artist by American Craft, my work was being purchased by collectors and carried by galleries, and I was presenting on my art and process at a symposium I’d attended as a student. Two weeks later the world shut down with the beginning of the pandemic. The metals and jewelry classes I was teaching went online or were canceled outright, sales crawled to a stop, and the world fundamentally changed.
My students and I connected digitally as much as possible, carving jewelry out of soap and documenting the change and entropy of their designs as we obsessively washed our hands throughout the day. But as the end of the semester came and the lockdown continued, no studio art classes were being run and I was out of a job. Working in my studio, something that had always been a refuge, became a point of contention emotionally. How could I settle down to make jewelry no one had a reason to wear when people were dying?
Around this time, things were not looking great for my father health wise, and my partner and I decided to make the move cross-country to be closer to my family. I tried to keep connected within the field through digital workshops and shows as much as possible, but decided to take a job as an essential worker to financially make ends meet in the meantime. For over a year I broke my body doing some of the most physically demanding work of my life. My studio practice was at an all time low, but I protected and stoked my creative spark however I could, knowing that while the road was long it was never endless.
Finally at the beginning of 2022, things turned around. I took two positions in my field, teaching at a wonderful metals and jewelry program at a college close to my undergraduate school and working with a family-owned supplier. One of my pieces won an award during Milano Jewelry Week, and a series of my works were included in the collections of several museums across the country. The focus of my work changed, primarily looking at ways to produce smaller, more affordable pieces that still carried the essence of my aesthetic. But my artistic career survived, even if it felt stilted and strange for a while, because I was willing to adapt and do whatever I could to continue on. And probably a healthy dose of luck, all things considered.
How can we best help foster a strong, supportive environment for artists and creatives?
I honestly believe one of the biggest benefits to the creative field would be working universal healthcare, as odd as that may sound. To not have healthcare tied to employment opens up a world of possibilities in terms of what you can do and where you can go. All things considered, I’m in good health, but the cost of simple medications and health maintenance, not to mention accidents or major procedures, can be a financial ruin, sometimes even with insurance. Organizations like Cerf+ are an amazing resource for artists who are preparing for or recovering from life’s difficult moments.
I think we also need to change how we think about the arts as a society, starting with how we encounter it throughout our schooling in America. From a very early age and up into college, I see students, teachers, administrators, and others think about the arts in terms of an easy A, an area somehow separate from all other “real” subjects of study. But art is an integral part of life – it interacts with and informs power, politics, culture, society, as well as being a fundamental part of how we express ourselves as humans.
But for a simpler approach, if you like an artist’s work, support it! This doesn’t have to be financially, although choosing small businesses when looking for gifts can be a huge boon for creatives. If you see work and you like it, share it on social media or post a supportive comment! Sometimes the small and simple things can make all the difference.
Contact Info:
- Website: www.hosannarubio.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/hosannarose/?hl=en
- Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/hosanna-rubio-34231835
Image Credits
Courtesy of the artist