Today we’d like to introduce you to Ann Haley

Hi Ann, it’s an honor to have you on the platform. Thanks for taking the time to share your story with us – to start maybe you can share some of your backstory with our readers?

The genesis of my artistic practice begins with my maternal grandmother. There are things we get told “run in our blood” when we are kids–often as a threat, sometimes as an honor. For me it was Irish heritage, addiction, twins, and the ~uncommon but still possible because my grandmother was~ artistry. She wasn’t who taught me how to paint, that was actually my nanny, but it was simply knowing that my grandmother was an artist and that we shared the same blood that validated my dreams to be one. I spent my adolescence in Atlanta as a closeted sporty art kid, and later received a BFA in Painting from the Savannah College of Art and Design. I then moved to New Orleans, where I have lived for ten years as an artist, gig worker, art educator, and simply a person trying to figure themself out. I joined The Front Artist Collective and Gallery in 2020 where I have since had numerous solo, collaborative, and curated exhibitions.

Since 2015 my work has been a visual journey through my healing process following a major car accident that left me with a chronic injury. My past paintings were deeply personal and emotionally charged, loudly reflecting the constant flux of physical, emotional, and financial challenges I faced. Although the essence of my work remains rooted in my lived experiences and ongoing physical challenges, there has been a perceptible shift in my artistic language. Navigating my own artistic metamorphosis, creating helps me move from the physical space my body inhabits into a contemplative space where I have surrendered to and transcended change. Rather than using art as a tool to tell my story, I aim to create work that provides a portal for others to comprehend through the lens of their own stories.

Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?

I think whether you get T-boned by an 18-wheeler or not, there will always be obstacles when it comes to being an artist simply because our capitalist society isn’t designed for majority of artists to be able to have financial stability simply by being an artist. Add any physical disability into the mix and things get even more challenging because a part time day job on top of time, energy, and money spent on care–on top of an art practice definitely isn’t financially sustainable either. So yes, it has been challenging. But given my circumstances, it’s going to be challenging no matter what. Creating gives me purpose and I am just grateful that art can be an outlet for me, both personally and professionally.

While it can be extremely difficult, I do love a challenge. I believe the “art world” is overdue for a complete paradigm shift and I aspire to contribute to making it more accessible by diverging from the institutional norms that gatekeep artistic success.

Thanks for sharing that. So, maybe next you can tell us a bit more about your work?

As a multimedia artist, I’m presently focusing on oil painting with my art revolving around themes of grief, the body, recovery, and identity. My current body of work draws inspiration from MRI imaging of my spinal hardware, interwoven with motifs of medicinal flora. This visual exploration navigates the corridors of recovery, intertwining self-discovery with grieving a once-able body and mourning lost loved ones. It’s a testament to growth amidst adversity, a constant theme in both my art and life.

My artistic philosophy is deeply influenced by the writings of Octavia Butler, emphasizing the inevitability of change and the necessity of evolving with it as well as Audre Lorde’s poetry about the importance of pain; how you evade it, succumb to it, and transcend it. Similarly, Frida Kahlo’s dark and spiritually graceful depictions of her experience with pain and the ways Philip Guston talks about honoring the nature of paint and the life of a painting inspire me to surrender to the material and embrace the surreal interpretations of my experiences.

One of my favorite projects I’ve done was a film titled “TANDEM” that was a collaboration with my partner Harley Holiday, and cinematographers Kelsey Scult and Marion Forbes. TANDEM was inspired by a time where Holiday had a broken left arm and I had a broken right foot, so we filmed ourselves throwing on the potter’s wheel with me acting as Holiday’s left arm–a visual representation of what it was like to care for, and be cared for during that time. To be in TANDEM means to be working or occurring in conjunction with each other; to give and receive simultaneously. The film depicts two separate beings who are actively embodying their past and present selves, while synchronously enmeshed with each other in an intricately shared experience.

The project I am most proud of and where I have felt the most growth in my practice is my most recent series, “boy howdy” which is part of a collaborative exhibition, “boy howdy; i wonder why?” with Luin Joy, that features artworks made by our grandmothers, Mary Ann Hammett Lyons and Susan Wagner Carlson. This series is a tribute to ancestral strength and the power of transformation. My grandmother had six kids and never got to have a real art show, so it was a really special and spiritual experience to curate her work alongside mine, and honor her artistry while paying homage to the significant role she plays in my artistic journey.

‘boy howdy’ ventures through the corridors of recovery, entwining self-discovery through grieving a once-able body with mourning lost loved ones. Central to this exploration is my maternal grandmother, Mary Ann Hammett Lyons, affectionately known as “Granny.” Her departure from this realm marked my first significant encounter with death at the age of nine. My memories of her are quilted with sensory threads. Nicorettes. Shalimar perfume. The comforting aroma of Sister Schubert’s biscuits. A hint of poodle. The texture of her hands and thick curls on my tiny fingers. The sticky sensation of painting my face with her lipsticks. How stale and gray her safe looked amongst the colorful clothing in her closet. The hum of her oxygen tank and the chatter of the TV while we slept. The way she said, “Eacha Summuh Beescuts” —the imprint of these senses serve as portals to a bygone realm where Granny’s presence once basked me in a cocoon of love and affirmation.

She has remained close to my heart, but our altar-based relationship is made of a combination of anecdotes from others, romanticization, and smell. I know she learned to paint before age 7, but what fueled the flame of her art? I know she kept a gun in her pocketbook, but what shadows lurked behind her vibrantly painted canvases, pocketbooks, quilts, clothing, trashcans, and pillows adorned with flowers and butterflies? I know she had various addictions and died from Emphysema, but what lies at the root of her addictions? How did she cope? I know she had six children starting at age sixteen, but what did she really think about the world? What would she think of me? Why did she paint the matadors? In pursuit of understanding, I delve into her artistic psyche, endeavoring to inhabit her creative realm and glean wisdom from the intersecting landscapes of our shared struggles.

Do you have any advice for those looking to network or find a mentor?

Being part of an artist collective that is made up of 20 artists has provided me opportunities to find great mentorship from members who are further along in their artistic career, as well as opportunities for me to be a mentor to artists who are just emerging into their practices. It’s really a special community of different kinds of artists and it’s amazing how we value 20 different sets of skills to put on new exhibitions every month. So I would recommend to anyone seeking community to apply to a collective or something similar. No one is going to come find you, it really starts by putting yourself out there, and then sitting at the table that feels right for you.

While I think artist to artist mentorship is important, I have also received very valuable mentorship from curators, writers, and colleagues who have created innovative and alternative spaces for artists to show their work. I think it’s important to seek a wide range of mentorship–I definitely have different people I reach to for advice on everything from the artwork itself to applications, writing, marketing, being professional vs thinking outside of the box, etc. I think every artist and art adjacent person I know has something valuable to learn from that will positively impact my career.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://annhaleystudio.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/annhaleystudio/
• Other: https://vimeo.com/user24842691

Image Credits

Artwork image credit Ann Haley
Film Stills image credit Kelsey Scult + Marion Forbes