We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Jess Rose Lauro a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.
Hi Jess Rose, thanks for joining us today. When did you first know you wanted to pursue a creative/artistic path professionally?
When I was a junior in high school, I felt a lot of pressure to know what my next steps in life would be. I thought that if I could not commit to a specific major or career, that I would just be wasting time and money on college. I knew I wanted to further my education, so I choose a path that I could see myself being content with in life. I have always enjoyed art, and become more interested in it towards the end of my high school years. By pursuing art education in college, I felt that was the best way to ensure that I could keep exploring this new path I was interested in, while securing a degree that could lead to a stable job in the future. While I do care greatly for both teaching and the arts, I knew I had not quite yet found my strength in it. I remember before heading off to college, I asked both my dad and my sister how they knew they wanted to pursue their specific fields of expertise, both of which are in the sciences. They both agreed that they did not pursue their paths necessarily because it was fun, but because at the end of the day, they felt they had accomplished something, and that their field allowed them to contribute to the world. Little did I know, this short and sweet answer would end up guiding me through my own career decisions not too much later in my undergraduate career. When I began my undergraduate studies at SUNY New Paltz in 2019, I went in as a student of art education. We were told that by the end of our sophomore year, we would have to declare a concentration – the most common being painting, due to its relevancy and commonality in the art classroom, as well as the hold it has over society as a valued art form. I assumed I would choose this too, as it seemed to be the obvious choice, but it was too early to declare so. Of course, the first year of classes is always full of general education requirements and pre-requisites for the program, but we did have some choices for our studio classes. For art education, we were allowed to choose four different art studio classes from a list of several choices. I was drawn to the more obscure sounding classes, figuring, where else would I be able to take something so unique? On the list, one class stood out to me – an introduction to metal class. I decided to take it just to see what it is about and to fulfill one of my art studio requirements. I had no idea what I was about to walk into.
Covid hit during the last few months of my freshman year. All of the students were sent home, and no one was sure what was going to happen regarding in-person classes. I had signed up for the introductory metal class for my sophomore year, and ended up being allowed to live on campus and attend a ‘covidified,’ for lack of a better word, reduced in-person version of this class. The course started as interesting, but challenging for me. The tools and materials were unlike anything I had worked with before. It remained challenging all through the course – but it became an occasion I wanted to rise to. I found myself going into the studio at odd hours of the night so I could work more without the worry of spreading germs around with others. I found myself not letting myself back down from a design just because I did not know straight off the bat how I would make each part of it become tangible – I just kept making and doing until it clicked. By the end of the course, my professor, Amelia Toelke, approached me and encouraged me to take another class with another professor in the department, Lynn Batchelder, the next semester. I happily agreed, and it was at this point that I realized two big things were happening: 1) I was falling in love, and 2) I was so in love that I wanted it to become a bigger part of my practice.
The following class only enhanced these feelings, and before I had even finished the course, I had already declared metal as my concentration. I was unsure of how relevant it would be to my ultimate career goals, but knew there was a connection there that I could not deny myself of. I took more metal classes, having the great opportunity to assistant teach for and learn directly from Myra Mimlitsch-Gray, and I fulfilled all the requirements for my concentration. My transcripts said I was done with that department, but I was not. I kept taking classes up until I had to do my student teaching in my final semester senior year. At that point, I realized this was not a mere addition to my practice; it IS my practice.
During my last metal class at New Paltz, I had Funlola Coker as a teacher. I had previously seen them around the studio as a graduate student, and as a student myself, I got to experience their transition to a faculty member. Seeing the possibilities, I made the scary decision to pursue specifically a metal and jewelry program in graduate school, with the intentions of working a related job after. I was very worried that I was digging myself a hole by leading with my heart and possibly pursuing a path that would not bring me any sort of job security in the future, because unfortunately, it costs money just to survive in this world. I quickly learned how even in a niche field like metal art, there are even more specified areas within, with successful leaders to look up to and masters of each specific technique to learn from. It is such a small world, yet so vast and diverse; everyone knows everyone, yet the connections span internationally. I am so thrilled to be where I am right now, pursuing my graduate degree at Tyler School of Art at Temple University in the Metal/Jewelry/CAD-CAM department under the guidance of professors Douglas Bucci and Mallory Weston. Despite thinking I had to have everything figured out in high school, here I am, roughly six years later, still a bit unsure of what precisely even the next year of my life will look like after graduate school. All I know is that I trust where my heart is leading me – deeper into the thicket of my combined passions of metal art and teaching.
Jess Rose, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?
So, what am I about? To simplify it, I make art out of metal – generally small-scale sculptures and contemporary jewelry – where I occasionally include other materials, such as plastics, 3D prints, stones, and found objects. Hand in hand with that, I am also a teacher, although I am still in the process of sorting out in what regard. In 2023, I was awarded my New York State teaching certification for K-12 art. Since completing my Bachelors of Science in Art Education from SUNY New Paltz, New York, I have embarked on my next journey of earning a Masters of Fine Arts in Metal/Jewelry/CAD/CAM from Tyler School of Art at Temple University in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Combining these passions of art making and education is the space I have been living in for the past five years. I value my relationships with people, and how they have transformed me and continue to transform me throughout my life. We can learn so much by knowing when to keep quiet and listen to someone else’s story. I try to never take these opportunities, however unexpected, for granted. As Maya Angelou perfectly worded it, “people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” For someone to allow you into their world, and grant you the permission to be immersed in their perception – those are the priceless experiences that I have grown from. Those are the experiences that have clung to my memory in the form of sentiment.
Just like anyone else in this world, I treasure my memories. They are something that truly belong to me, even if the power memories have is balanced with that of my own. In my work, I am focused on how the recollection of memory alters throughout time. It seems that each time I revisit a memory, or ask a friend or family member to revisit a memory, it morphs a little further from its original state and overtime becomes a highly personalized tale. I think this is when a memory is most precious – when it is recalled so often that it becomes embellished, immortalized, and truer to the spirit of the mind rather than the cold hard facts of what was once real. I call this the Velveteen Rabbit effect, when something is handled so much that what makes it most special is the remnant of human touch. Memory is elastic, and I like to ask others to invite me into their recollections. I wonder how far I have stretched them out in the process. While I find myself thinking a lot about memory, I do not feel trapped by it. Rather than longing for the past, I find myself valuing remembrance as a stepping stone for growth. There is so much that we can learn from others, and about ourselves, by allowing ourselves to just sit back and observe memory.
I am interested in giving memory form through my metalwork. I find myself continuously coming back to the anatomical heart as a basis for form in my work. It is so immensely weighted, yet intricate and delicate. I think it is funny how as a society, we place emphasis on this organ as a controller of how we emote. Nevertheless, it is beautiful how this consensus leads to value of strong and personalized emotions. I use this form because it is something that is so inherently personal; something we guard and feel no one else can understand – yet it is also something we all relate to. While many of my pieces have personal motivation and memory tied to them, it is not important to me that others who view my work understand my specific story. Instead, I intend for familiarity of form and interest in subject to lead the observer to make their own connections to the work and have those similar feelings that I have while rummaging through the memory banks to find the way we relate.
How can we best help foster a strong, supportive environment for artists and creatives?
Being a creative in this world is difficult. I am just starting out, but so far, I have found it to be a constant battle of balancing craft and reality. Finding ways to interweave to two has been key so far to surviving in a world that generally seems to value cash above all else. While I trust that following the path I am making for myself will ultimately get me to my goal of fulfillment in life and allow me to contribute to society, it would undoubtedly have been less scary to start taking the steps down this path had it been clearer that there is value to what I want to do. I have been so incredibly lucky to have two wonderful parents that have always supported me and celebrated all of my successes in life, including my artistic endeavors. By encouraging creatives in your life – whether that be buying art from an artist you admire, allowing a creative mind at work to bend the rules in order to experiment with something new, or just in general passing less negative judgement on people who are simply trying to express themselves through creative outlets – we can work towards an embracing society that would benefit from the full range of creatives and understanding the value their work has. For me, no matter what setting I end up in, I know it is my job as someone who will be in the field of education to express the value of creative minds to my future students and colleagues alike. If you are wondering what you can do to support creatives, finding where sources of art and creativity are in your life is a great place to start. Recognize how you can help establish this value: start small so you can build it into your common practices, and keep growing with the people around you. We all make up the fabric of society, therefore it is our collective responsibility to use our individual power to initiate the changes we want to experience.
What’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative in your experience?
There are two big rewards I feel I receive from working as an artist. The first comes from process. Intrinsic motivation is a feeling that is completely unmatched. To feel motivated to keep making, building, and creating, no matter the outcome? That is a feeling I wish I could capture and share with everyone. In fact, sharing with everyone has everything to do with the second big reward I feel I gain from this. When I finish a piece, and get to step back and share it – may it be through process videos, a formal photo, or physical exhibition – I know that I have done something, and I have done good. Whether others love or hate my work does not matter. I have left an impression, and I have gotten others to stop and wonder why someone bothered to present this to them. To me, that is success as an artist. That is my contribution to society. Keeping with contribution, I feel very honored that I get to share my skills and way of working with my students. Being an educator is a very special position that allows me to not only pass along the knowledge of my physical skillset, but also the guidance to finding what each student needs to help them reach the same levels of fulfillment that I continue reaching for myself. This will look different for everyone, and I am in a position to see through others’ eyes, and provide the different tools needed for each to reach those goals. I teach all that I can, and in return, I have grown through problem solving with students for issues that I otherwise may have never been exposed to. I have grown more emotionally intelligent, as students are people that, like you and me, require sensitivity and care. I have grown through wanting to prove to myself and my students that I deserve to be where I am, by working hard on samples and perfecting demonstrations. I have grown in so many ways, and I continue to grow. For the small price of sharing what I am already fascinated by, I get to be strengthened by others and continue my path of growth.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: @jessrose_metals
Image Credits
Esther Park