Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Yvonne Kunz. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.

Alright, Yvonne thanks for taking the time to share your stories and insights with us today. When did you first know you wanted to pursue a creative/artistic path professionally?

My father was an artist. Growing up, I watched him work in his studio, which was often our garage (when we had a garage). Sometimes it was an extra room in the house. One time, we had no extra space, so his work station was on top of the washing machine. When I was 8 or so, he earned his MFA at the University of Illinois, Chicago. I remember going to visit his studio in the grad studios. The building was a stereotypical artists’ space: an old warehouse with a freight elevator that opened from the top and bottom. I remember riding up the elevator, arriving at his floor, and upon opening the elevator doors, I remember the smell of oil paint hitting me, hard. It was at that moment that I knew that I wanted to be an artist! That smell was intoxicating. It meant magic and potential. Alchemy. And peering into the studios of his fellow grad students, I saw, for the first time, creative people at work (who weren’t my dad). It felt possible!

Watching my dad navigate his art career did not give me any illusions about what it would be like to be an artist. He exhibited sometimes, but often his days and art were alone in studio. My mom was in the Navy so we moved a lot. I went to 12 different schools by the time I graduated high school. All that moving made it challenging for my dad to have an art community. This was pre-internet when life was more “in real life.” I watched him make work, store it, show it, and then throw it away when it was time to move again. Again, no illusions.

Art for me was home through all the moving. I drew from a very young age, and started teaching myself to paint early in high school. I knew by the time that I left home that I was going to be an artist. It was the only thing that I was sure of at that young age. Of course, being an artist is not an easy profession. And the world of the 80s with its cheep artists lofts downtown hardly exist anymore. I have persevered, like my father. My studios have been a desk pushed into a corner of my bedroom, a spare room, a notebook, a renovated shed. I am grateful for the example my father set, making art through all stages of life, through the thick and thin. I am grateful that the certainty of being an artist has never left me (although there have been moments of wavering, but that is another story.)

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 like to say that art is who I am and teaching is what I do. Art has been my passion and identity from a young age. And teaching has been a creative way to earn a living while making art. I see them as intertwined.

The act of teaching is incredibly creative. You are making hundreds of decisions an hour, curating the experiences of others, and producing a work of art (the lesson) which hopefully makes an impact on your audience (your students). In fact, artist and educator Jorge Lucero, professor at the University of Illinois, Champaign, even considers teachers to be conceptual artists and says when teachers learn to view themselves as creative individuals, their teaching improves.

I realized when I was in grad school to become a teacher how much being an artist has taught me how to learn. My philosophy is that Art IS Education. The act of making not only entails painting a pretty picture; it is also the courage to try and fail. In fact, we cheat ourselves when we limit our art practice to what is safe and what we already know. The act of creating involves research, experimentation, risks, perseverance, giving and receiving feedback, collaboration, communication, defining abstract concepts with visual symbols, and being flexible, to name a few. What I bring to the table in art education is the approach that art is a valid means to learn subject areas such as science, math, etc. in addition to visual art skills. More importantly, though, art education is really about how to navigate humanity. I am in the business of fostering students’ (and my own!) understanding of how to be human.

This humanizing lens in my teaching is also a part of my artwork. Culture, traditions, community, ancestors, legacy. These are the strengths of a community, and can be the burdens. They can provide shelter and, when lacking, they can be the void which desperately begs to be filled by any means necessary. My work addresses the isolation that is unique to this 21st century. We are connected to one another more than ever and yet, we feel alone more than ever, especially when our community ties are lost. I think about the loss of connection to the land by Western cultures, the influence that capitalism has on our personal disconnection, and what it means to be human in this challenging time. Ultimately, my work is about (dis)connection and reconciliation.

Is there something you think non-creatives will struggle to understand about your journey as a creative? Maybe you can provide some insight – you never know who might benefit from the enlightenment.

Well, I don’t believe that there are non-creative people. I understand the term is used to differentiate those who do not create artwork in their lives or for a living from those who do. But, every day, we all are problem-solving in some way; we are putting ideas together to make new ones; we are using skills developed through experimentation and practice. We are being creative. The difference is some of us held on to the belief that we are creative, and others let that belief go. Unfortunately, letting go of the belief that you are creative happens often and early. By the time a student is in second grade, some are saying, “I can’t draw” or “I am not creative.”

Psychologists who study creativity speak of “Big C” creatives and “small c” creatives. The “Big C” are the artists, musicians, actors, authors, scientists, et cetera who you can name off the top of your head. They are the names in headlines, being tweeted about, in the history books. They are who we are told is the model of being a creative — that the goal should be to strive for recognition and making a cultural breakthrough in some fashion. While “small c” creatives are the people who are planting a garden, drawing with their children, learning how to play the guitar badly, making up their own words to songs have heard on the radio one hundred times.

The struggle for me in my creative journey has been accepting that my path will not be “Big C” level. I am fine with that now, but in art school it was taught to us that we should have a goal to be an “art star.” This misguided belief caused a lot of unnecessary pressure and stress, and set unrealistic expectations. Accepting that I am “small C” takes pressure of my art practice and it provides me comfort in knowing that I will have this art practice for the rest of my life. Letting go of chasing the market has helped me to create work that I know is authentic. Accepting the “small c,” I now know that I will make art for the rest of my life. I know that I am an artist. I know that I am creative. That is enough.

How can we best help foster a strong, supportive environment for artists and creatives?

This is a sad question in our current times. Funding for the arts, education, and cultural programming is being cut. Dehumanizing practices are becoming the norm in our cities and communities. In my view, what society can do to support the arts is to recognize the power that comes from treating all people as human. I think our society does not value what makes us truly human – our creativity. Instead, we value what makes a select few wealthy, under the pretense that someday we too ( the 99%) will have a chance to be wealthy.

My pie-in-the-sky dream is that we collectively decide to champion learning, the arts, humanity, the environment above all. And that we collectively decide that the select few do not get to control our lives. Society can best support artists, creatives, and all people by investing in education to include free college or trade schools for all. We can provide a basic living wage to everyone. We can look at how our systems are failing everyone who is not in the 1%. We can make protecting the environment a priority and build green energy systems.

Artists and creatives do not live in a bubble. What we need is the same as any other person. We need financial stability and opportunity, education, community support, rest, love and appreciation. The question is: when will the 99% recognize that we are the backbone of this society, that we deserve more, and that we have the power to force change?

Contact Info:

• Website: https://yvonnekunz.com

Image Credits

All works of art by Yvonne Kunz. All images by Yvonne Kunz.