Today we’d like to introduce you to Lauren E. Peters
Hi Lauren E., we’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
Working for a number of years in self-portraiture is something that makes complete sense in hindsight, but a world I entered with no intentions of it lasting as long as it has.
After falling in love with oil paint in college, all I wanted to do was paint but I could not find an idea that I could dig into and eventually stopped altogether. My thesis exhibit in college was a series of pieces drawing inspiration from a cast of the Venus de Milo. I had never used oil paint before college, so a lot of that work was a continuing exploration of materials and themes. My best piece in that show was a black and white painting with a larger-than-life Venus and a checkerboard background. One night, nearing the opening of the exhibit, I cut off her head by painting over it and leaving a smooth ellipse atop her neck. So not only did she not have any arms, but I took her other senses, and took away her ability to speak. That was the painting that meant the most to me. Themes of the show swirled around the complicated relationship of walking through the world in a female body and attempts to communicate my feelings on the subject. In the “lost years” when I wasn’t painting, I looked for another female figure/object on which to project the issues I wanted to discuss. Having grown up within a family business that was a specialized, high-end dry cleaner, I also found myself working there again after college. During this time I began filling hours with costuming at a local theater and began to absorb further, intimate knowledge of how clothing communicates our sense of identity to the world. You can also safely inject a love of clothing, fashion, and a previous dabbling in theater into this story.
So when I desperately needed an idea for a cohesive body of work (as I had started renting a studio in order to paint, but only the pressure of the show offered in conjunction with the rental really got me to focus), I started playing with my own wardrobe and costumed myself in order to make a series of self-portraits. Words have always fallen flat as a means to express myself and/or communicate with others, so finding a visual language with an alphabet of costumes and props and wigs has allowed me to connect, to find my voice.
Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
I don’t know that it’s a smooth road for anyone, and it would certainly make for inauthentic art if it were. Sometimes I blame a freak accident for my hiatus from painting that put me in a lot of medical debt, letting assumptions be made that it was strictly a financial issue. I had moved back to my home-state of Delaware and was applying for grad school, giving up on the idea of being an artist to pursue a steady job. I thought I could make it for 6 months without health insurance, and a few months later found myself in the hospital. I had gotten up too quickly from a very hot bath and as I was passing out, spinning, the weight of my body all channeled into my left leg and resulted in spiral fractures in both my fibula and tibia. A metal rod was inserted into my lower leg, and I was told I wouldn’t be able to walk for 8 weeks. This new, crippling (pun intended) fear that trying something new and/or moving out of my comfort zone fed into my normal anxiety surrounding taking risks, and absolutely cannot foster creativity. And even after I finally got back into painting, my second exhibit was at a local theater that caused a bunch of the portraits to crack. They were on wood panels, and the wild fluctuations in winter temperatures of an unoccupied building to heat and spotlights caused them to split. It was absolutely devastating at the time, however, I learned better techniques of sealing panels and where to safely show my work. It seems like a relatively mild mishap now, but it could have easily derailed me. And yet I think these large obstacles are easier to size up and act accordingly (once you get your bearings) than the daily, emotional and physical labor required to be an artist. Not having gone to a proper art school or getting an MFA, and then not even painting for 10 years, means I had to figure a lot of this out on my own and build a network from scratch. The visible aspects of being an artist fall in this rather narrow range of glamorous to privileged, when the tedium of logistics, and emails, and trying to leave work early for something that looks like a fun social engagement but is really your job, and more emails, will wear you down. I try to separate myself from the voices that are telling me I can’t do this, or shouldn’t do this, when all this is, is me trying to do the thing I love and makes life worth living. It could be argued that keeping those voices at bay and getting through the drudgery of the work behind the scenes make a more formidable opponent than those you can clearly define and resolve.
Thanks – so what else should our readers know about your work and what you’re currently focused on?
At this moment in time, I have been working on a project for nine years in which I make oil paintings based on photos I take of myself in different costumes. Each piece is essentially a selfie, taken with my cell phone, that seeks to embody a different persona or to channel a character that represents a chaotic third other. I am constantly looking out for a misunderstood or complicated role to reflect the intricacies of life as a human. Once I reached the limits of my own wardrobe I began renting clothing, and continued to invest in wigs and small props. The next move is to use whatever sewing and assembly skills I have to start making costumes, so you’ll have to stay tuned for that adventure. It will allow me to put other bodies into the work, to let other people tell their stories in this language. It’s been wild to watch this project grow, as if it’s functioning without me, into something more expansive than I could have ever imagined when I started. I’ve always said that this was an invitation to others to see themselves differently, to picture other versions of themselves that exist outside of fabricated constraints, but I’m so excited to see the work become that on its own without having to say it explicitly. Seeing how everything came together, based on this unique set of circumstances, is also pushing me to use the complete set of skills I possess. It took a huge chunk of this time to feel like I’m a good enough painter, and now I want to direct energy elsewhere. What I am most proud of changes frequently, more often than not it’s simply that I’m making art and confidently calling myself an artist. I thought I would only get to paint after I retired from a vague and yet-to-be-found career, having followed the prescribed stereotype of working in coffee shops (and then retail) as a person with a degree in art. It took finding sanctuary in a quiet, empty room to begin this endeavor, with no intentions of the paintings finding a wider audience than the building that held them. I’m proud of myself for starting, for planting that tiny seed in the dark, and proud of allowing myself to keep dreaming about where this could go next.
Have you learned any interesting or important lessons due to the Covid-19 Crisis?
There was a lesson I put into use pretty quickly, and one I’ll probably be working on for a while. The pandemic is what pushed me to quit my stable day job and pursue being an artist full-time. I’ve never been much of a risk-taker, and by that I mean I had never once been a risk-taker before that moment. It took a world thrown into chaos to see I only had this one, precious life, and I needed to at least try and do the thing I had deemed too unpredictable and unstable. What I am still trying to learn is how to ask for help, and how that directly feeds into building community. As an introverted-loner-y type by nature, I want to do everything by myself and find it frustrating if I cannot. However. The times I make myself ask for what feels like an excessive amount of help, I walk away with so much more love for humanity than I previously held. I don’t know if this knowledge would’ve successfully counteracted my instincts to hide and isolate during the pandemic, but I’m trying to use it now to put these structures in place. To build, and also see what is already there. I am not, contrary to most of my thinking and behavior, on my own little island. It is not my intention to gloss over the very real devastation and suffering that many have experienced (and continue to) because of this crisis by looking for the bright side. I hope it has made me a better human, allowed the insignificant to fall away, and understand what is truly of value.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.laurenepeters.com/
- Instagram: @lauren.e.peters
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/laurenepetersartist/








Image Credits
Headshot by Jen Polillo Studios

