We caught up with the brilliant and insightful Leslie Nemour a few weeks ago and have shared our conversation below.

Leslie, looking forward to hearing all of your stories today. Did you always know you wanted to pursue a creative or artistic career? When did you first know?

As a young girl in grade school, I never felt that I stood out with any noticeable talent. I was sick a lot and was always trying to keep up with what I missed. At home I was more outgoing and entertaining.

In fifth grade I had a grouchy teacher whose class everyone dreaded.

I am not sure why or how this happened, but one day she asked me if I would draw a very large *nativity scene to hang in the classroom. So, with colored chalk I made a 3’X4” drawing on blue construction paper. The figures looked stiff; rather medieval in style, but there it hung. I got to take it home later where my mother displayed it over the fireplace at Christmas. That sappy little story changed my trajectory in life. A talent was discovered. .

In junior high I took my first Art class and incorporated drawing or painting into every academic project possible. For a while I wavered between writing and art. When my English teacher (whom I greatly admired) saw one of my drawings, he said I should definitely stick to poetry. Hurt and angered by that, I felt I had no choice but to resist and be an artist. In high school I was given acrylic paint to work with while the rest of the class used tempera paint. That made me feel appreciated. Then I took one of those aptitude tests that are suppose to determine what career you are best suited. From that the counselor said I should be a secretary. A secretary. Funny, I think I barely passed my typing class. That annoyed me too.

Rejections can either kill your dream or make it come true. For me, it solidified my desire. As a high school senior, I started taking drawing classes at the university. In my mind, there was nothing else I could do. I was relentless. Home on spring break from UC Berkeley, where I spent my freshman year, I stood at the foot of my parents’ bed, opened my portfolio, and presented each drawing to them. It was silent, until my father said, “What about astronomy? Maybe you should study astronomy”. It’s funny those little moments that stick with you.

I continued and received both my BA and MFA in Visual Arts from UCSD. The smaller department (at the time) opened many doors for me, and there I received the encouragement and challenges that I had been seeking. My professors were royalty, and yet they were real people. As part of the grad program, we were given the option to teach. I hadn’t planned to be an educator, but surprisingly it was a good fit.

As a post-grad, I learned the importance of the networks we create in whatever community we are invested. The web of connections in graduate school propelled my pathway immeasurably. Most of the employment and exhibitions for years after were through those referrals.

So yes, I knew early that I was an artist at heart. I was never the best or the worst, but always determined. Like I have told students, passion and resourcefulness have a greater impact on success than the mechanics or craft that can be learned over time. It is also important to consistently redefine what success means.

The greatest source of inspiration as a teenager was from looking at paintings, whether in books or in person. I was particularly intrigued by Post-Impressionists and Fauvism, science fiction movies and fashion. I’m laughing now because in some ways that is still true.

*Yes a nativity scene in a public school I just realized how weird that is,

Leslie, love having you share your insights with us. Before we ask you more questions, maybe you can take a moment to introduce yourself to our readers who might have missed our earlier conversations?

I have been a visual artist/painter for about two-thirds of my life, and an educator/professor of art for over half. To be a creator and teacher means that there have been an extraordinary number of disappointments and a lesser number of successes, which is ok, because they are worth so much more! The best are not the conventional successes but ones that inspire, instruct, and elevate awareness in both the making and thinking process of the studio practice.

I am a San Diego native. Growing up, my view of the world was framed by the dreamland of west coast beaches, movie stars and endless possibilities. In the Visual Arts Department at UCSD I learned about the shared visual elements of film and painting. Films could look like painting, and painting could look like film (even before its invention). And both told stories.

My paintings are stories without beginnings or ends; narratives based on glimpses of memory, personal perception and female archetypes. The oil painted subjects are primarily figurative and most often female. They are not, however, looked at through the traditional viewpoint of the male gaze, but from the view of a contemporary woman reflecting on a world in transition,

Much of the imagery is appropriated and foraged from cinema; blurred, ephemeral moving pictures secluded and often paired in sequences to rearrange conventional expectations. Film genres, eras and content are paralleled to serve as barometers of changing social norms and resistance.

Both playful and biting, sometimes funny, sometimes jarring, the compositions may appear as visual poetry but also highlight the role of the past in the current psyche. It is my hope that the viewer can bring their own history to the work to engage in an interactive exchange.

As an artist, and not a conventional business, I hope that my paintings can challenge and seduce the viewer both visually and conceptually. Through public exhibitions I inspire to bring conversation, curiosity and wonder to an audience and encourage them to view art as a big beautiful experiment that can mirror who we were, who we are, and who we want to be.

For you, what’s the most rewarding aspect of being creative?

Being an artist allows me to be myself more than any other aspect of my life. No one else is required to understand it, like it or own it. It reflects my view of the world and how I perceive the systemic relationships around me. Expressing my weird and disparate visions in art, no matter how cryptic, brings personal balance and allows me to function responsibly in the practical aspects of my life.

The first reward is to me. But the fulfillment comes through the presentation of the work to a public audience. I am amazed at the shared connections that are made with viewers and how they complete the stories in my painting through their own associations. Creating the work in isolation is equally important as sharing it with both familiar and unfamiliar audiences. The behind the scene time artists put into research, design, preparation, and execution is generally a mystery to the world compared to the short glimpses of the finished work that is seen in a short lived spotlight.

A second reward is living a life that is inseparable from the art. Although I make work in an architectural box, my resources are endless and found through explorations without destination like accidental left turns, looking up at night, or perhaps a snippet of a conversation I heard while waiting in line.

For my entire adult life, I had two full time careers: teaching and making art. Fortunately, there has been a symbiotic relationship between the two, so one job was not completely severed from the other. The difference is that one paid the mortgage and the other, not so much. Teaching was a way of indirectly talking about what I do and imparting my explorations and research of art methods, artist histories and ideas with students. The overlap was what kept me going and allowed me to continue painting without the need or worry to compromise my practice for sales. I have been truly fortunate to have found my pathway in the arts at a young age and that it carried me through to my recent retirement from a full-time faculty position. Perhaps my shared occupationsI traded out some of the limelight that a few artists have been fortunate to find. However, there is not one regret. The rewards of sharing my world as an artist and professor with so many beautiful young artists and explorers is my greatest pride.

I do not like to say that I have retired, as that implies that I have stopped. I have only stopped the job of teaching in a traditional classroom. The beauty of being an artist is that it never stops, even if there is a lull in production. It is who you are, not what you do. I will always see the world as a place of endless curiosities and hope that its wonders continue to find their way into my studio.

What can society do to ensure an environment that’s helpful to artists and creatives?

Ideally, I would like to see recognition of the importance of studying the arts at all levels in the education system. It has been proven that the benefits are life long and are more than just learning the “how to“ skills to draw, paint, sculpt, etc. More importantly, studio art teaches people to see better. With that comes the understanding of space, form, color and perspective in daily life as well as the history and meaning of imagery. I once had a painting student who had a terrible time recognizing and defining shadows. (Shadows are key in creating the illusion of form and depth). Years later he wrote to me and said, “Thank you. I can see shadows now”. The lessons stay with us. Following lessons in negative space, students have said that when they left the classroom, the visual world looked different, as if they had just opened their eyes for the first time. How can improved visual acuity not enhance one’s personal and professional life?

Secondly, all lessons in studio art involve problem solving. Each student is given the same set of tools and objectives with a common goal. There isn’t just one solution like a math problem. Students in all art forms become critical thinkers and creative problem solvers; a desirable skill that can be applied to any discipline or career. In the early days of digital art, companies preferred new hires to have a studio arts background as opposed to a technical one. This was because the software could be quickly learned in contrast to the creative decision making and art historical awareness that comes with an education in fine arts.

One of the biggest obstacles for artists is the lack of exhibition venues. If society placed a higher value on the arts, there might be a stronger effort to bring art into non-traditional arenas by encouraging private businesses, corporations, and municipalities to offer space (walls, floors, façades, storefronts, etc.) to artists for changing exhibitions. Not only would this benefit the visibility of the artist, but also the business. Subsidizing rent for studio space and residencies would also welcome artists into the heart of communities as opposed to propagating the myth of the artist as an outlier.

Contact Info:

• Website: www.leslienemour.com
• Instagram: @tashuluv
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/leslie.nemour/

Image Credits
Image #1 of the additional photos ONLY: credit David Rafael Andersen