Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Gillian Pokalo. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.
Gillian, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. Let’s start with education – we’d love to hear your thoughts about how we can better prepare students for a more fulfilling life and career.
I have been an art educator for close to 20 years, having taught in urban, suburban, and rural schools and community centers in both Pennsylvania and in Iceland. I toggle between being a (third generation) educator as well as a visual artist, and balance both careers simultaneously, which is both rewarding and, as anyone who has managed a classroom full of kids will attest, gloriously intense. I’ve had the privilege of teaching students as young as 2 years old to as old as, well, we don’t ask the elderly their ages as it’s not polite. And having worked with such incredibly diverse groups, I’ve noticed things about the human condition as it relates to creativity.
1. Everyone possesses the ability to express themselves visually. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve worked with (especially) adults, who claim that they are not artistic, but who, throughout my workshops and classes, are able to lean into their own creative capacities and are able to develop a love of working with their hands. To me, that is the ultimate goal of any kind of art educational experience – to give students the confidence and the love of being able to express themselves visually.
2. That everyones’ voice has worth. Art is a place where there truly is enough room for everyone. I know that gallery scenes and academia often feel inaccessible by most people without art degrees, and I’ve worked with so many students who have a hard time seeing themselves in the art that is often presented in magazines and modern art galleries. There tends to be an exclusivity – an “if you know, then you know” kind of mentality among certain art circles. In art education, it is my job to introduce students to the world of art and show them that they do, in fact, have a place there – whether it is as a creative voice or as an appreciator. Humans have been expressing themselves creatively since the beginning of documented time. Before a child can write, they draw. Visual expression is so inherently tied to humanity, that when institutions separate that, monetize that, and make it an exclusive privilege limited to only those whom are deemed worthy, they do society, and consequently themselves, a big disservice. We are in a fascinating turning point now, where institutions have (finally!) had to reckon with their own histories of this exclusive attitude, through the lenses of institutional racism and sexism, and are having to contend with the consequences as funding becomes more sparse.
3. Art education is about way more than a pretty picture. It’s about problem solving and finding solutions. It’s about noticing and asking questions. At its core it communicates the human condition and it has the ability to create community. I’ve had the joy to create an international project with my co-founder, Icelandic artist, Anna María Cornette, called the Home is Where the Heart Is, in which we have worked with immigrant women living in Pennsylvania and in Iceland. Through the art-making workshops, these women are invited to think about what the idea of Home means to them, and are able to share that in an intimate setting with other women who are experiencing the same things. In so doing, they create a community that is designed to continue (and has successfully continued!) long after our workshops have concluded, that feels inclusive, supportive, and safe to express vulnerability. The women who participate see connections between shared experiences, especially as the workshop series conclude in each location with a show that brings together sister pieces from other locations.
When I look out over any group of students that I’ve had the privilege to teach, it’s my job to make sure each person comes away from an art lesson with the feeling that they can express themselves, that their art and their voice has worth, and that they can see themselves as creative individuals. I’ve always said that the best way to honor my heritage as an artist is to share the joy and satisfaction of being able to work with ones’ hands. I hope that you, dear reader, allow yourself to delve into your creative capacities at least for a little while as often as you can, in whatever form that takes, and in so doing, connect yourself to your international and intergenerational heritage as a creative person on this planet.
Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.
I am both a visual artist and an art educator, and I dance between both careers fluidly as well as joyfully. I recently moved to Akureyri, Iceland, after spending most of my life in the Philadelphia area of Pennsylvania. I’ve always found myself living between multiple worlds – that of artist and educator, of printmaker and painter, of US citizen and Icelander. In writing this, I realize that I can’t be completely succinct, as my path is a bit of a winding one.
For the longest time, my artwork has been about places that are abandoned and telling the stories embedded within walls that are being eclipsed by time and nature. I find the beauty in those liminal spaces compelling, because they are intimate expressions of human nature. This is especially true of abandoned architecture in Iceland, where evidence of repairs to farm houses reveal the necessity and resourcefulness of their former owners. How these structures return to the earth and how the plant life compliments them is a recurring theme in my work. That theme has taken me to places all around the States, but especially throughout Pennsylvania as I documented the industrial past. as well as to the outer edges of the English channel, and finally, resting here for a while, in Iceland.
I first came to Iceland in 2014 and soon found myself bouncing back and forth between countries as often as my teaching schedule and budget would allow. What transpired were a series of murals, artist residencies, and teaching workshops. Over time, I built up a friend family here that became harder and harder to leave when I would return to the States, so that I eventually decided to make the jump and move here permanently in June 2023. Of course there are many more stories woven into this part, and the decision to leave was not taken lightly. Since the first time I set foot on this land, I felt deeply that I was meant to be here. I can’t explain it better than that. My life in Pennsylvania felt so chaotic as I tried to hold together careers, a household, and a failing marriage. For the longest time I was seeking a more holistic, harmonious lifestyle.
In 2022 I decided to take a sabbatical from my teaching position to focus on my artwork and life, and decided to come to Iceland for artist residencies and workshop teaching opportunities for six months. During that time it became crystal clear that I needed to make some changes, fully knowing that each change would initiate the collapse of the whole house of cards that I had so carefully balanced. And with the collapse came the catharsis, and I’m so grateful to find myself in the right place now, to do the work I’m meant to be doing.
My painting and printmaking studio is situated on the second story of a shop in Akureyri that faces the fjord. Here, I am part of a vibrant community of artists and makers, where there is an openness and eagerness to welcome new perspectives. As a result, I am helping to build an arts center with art educational programming for kids in the community. I’m also helping to start an open studio tour to highlight the amazing arts community that is here. I also teach art in a local school, where my students are in 2nd grade through 10th. I’ve also recently become a wife and step mother to two wonderful Icelandic kids. I am able to enjoy evenings in the studio after school as well as dinners with my family, and finally all feels like the balance I’ve sought for most of my adult life. I’m eager to see what artworks can materialize now that I have time to invest in them, just as I’m excited to see this community of artists here in Akureyri continue to grow.
Do you think there is something that non-creatives might struggle to understand about your journey as a creative? Maybe you can shed some light?
I was raised in the type of a family where you get one career, one house, and one marriage, and you work on those things until you either retire or die. So at a family dinner one night, about 5 years ago, I remember the chaos that ensued when I mentioned that after 10 years of teaching at my former school, I was eligible for a sabbatical, and would likely take it to pursue my art career fully. It had, up until that point, been the extra job that I filled in around the rest of life – because, as any creative will attest, we make our art because it is life giving. It is our raison d’etre. And for me, it was the carrot at the end of the stick – if I could just plow through this thing for school or that workshop, or that lesson planning, then there was my art, ready for me to return to it. I just needed time, which, when needing to pay a mortgage and bills, came inconsistently at best.
And yet, I was privileged that I actually was working on my art to sell at art festivals and vendor markets – because I had no choice but for the artwork to work for me. While galleries have been able to sell a piece here and there, my experience was that by being at outdoor markets I was able to sell work directly to the public, sharing the stories behind the works. As a fine artist, it is the story and you that people want to invest in.
I remember my father, upon my graduation from Moore College of Art, realizing much to his dismay that I had pursued (and achieved with honors, no less!) a degree in 2D Fine Art with a concentration in antiquated photographic and printmaking processes. Turning a weird shade of red, and watching the veins pop out of his neck he asked, “what the ____ are you going to do with that degree”. And I told him, as a promise to myself, that whatever I did, the art would work for me.
And it has and continues to do so.
Do what you love and the money will follow. Maybe not quickly, and maybe not as much as you’d like, but I’ve realized one thing. After doing myriad jobs that weren’t in alignment with my values or my talents, after teaching in places where my work wasn’t valued, and after teaching on the front lines of the pandemic – we have one life. It does neither me, nor anyone around me, any good to not live with authenticity and in alignment with ones’ internal compass. We are always growing and changing…unless we allow ourselves to stagnate. A garden needs to be watered and pruned in order for it to grow to its fullest potential, and seeing life as a work in progress…sometimes messy…allows us to keep making our work and moving onto the next thing.
I always see my artwork as stepping stones to the next destination, and invite the work to evolve as I do. I remember one time seeing the paintings of Fernand Leger in the Philadelphia Museum of Art. He painted his most famous painting, La Ville, when he was a fairly young artist, and then, through the exhibition I noticed that he kept referring back to that painting, and apparently he kept it over the years and showed it multiple times. To me, it was a milestone in realizing that I did not want to be like that. I haven’t made my masterwork yet, and I hope honestly that I never do – because that’s what keeps me interested and excited about my work.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.gillianpokalo.com/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/gillian.pokalo.art/?hl=en
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/GillianPokaloFineArt/
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kXPYeLO9-ho
Image Credits
I am the sole owner of the image provided – Gillian Pokalo 2024