GeoVanna Gonzalez on Art & Community

The following interview is produced in partnership with The New Tropic. The interview was conducted by Commissioner and WhereBy.Us co-founder Rebekah Monson and it has been edited for length and clarity.

GeoVanna Gonzalez is a Miami-based artist and curator, and the first commissioned artist of Commissioner’s third season. Her practice explores shifting notions of gender and identity in our environment, and the relationships between the organic and the technological. She was born and raised in Los Angeles, California where she received her BFA at Otis College of Art and Design. 

You’re from L.A., have exhibited all over, and were most recently based in Berlin. Now you have multiple exhibitions here, you’ve had work at ICA and the Bass, you did a residency at Fountainhead, and you’re deeply involved in Miami’s arts scene, inviting people to experience art through Supplement Projects, for example. What about Miami has made it your home base?

Essentially, when I arrived to Miami — which was kind of random initially — I immediately felt at home. For me, that was a clue that this is a place that I would want to give a chance in terms of living and working here.

I've been here for about three years now, and I love it. A lot of that has to do with the culture that's here. There's a huge mix of people from the Caribbean and Latin America, Central America, etc. That really has created such a strong bond for me for Miami.

So much of your work as an artist and a curator seems to center on that idea of building connections, both as a community as well as personally. I am thinking specifically of your recent video series, Aesthetics of Mobility, in which you and your partner, artist Najja Moon, are living in your tiny home and inviting the larger community into your practice as an artist, as a curator, and also your life. How did that conceptually develop for you?

Community is a big part of my practice and also just my life. I come from an enormous family on both my mom and my dad's side. I've been doing independent curatorial work for quite some time now, and then I also have my personal artistic practice. At first I thought curating and making art were separate things, but I came to the realization that there isn’t any separation for me.

In terms of having an actual discourse around a work of art, we should stop separating curating and creating. This idea that you’re isolated as an artist — that you work solely in the studio by yourself, that you think creatively only by yourself – that’s the narrative that's always been pushed. In actuality, for me, much of this is about my everyday experiences, interactions with people, conversations, and things that I'm reading. Everything that I'm digesting is influencing the work as well as myself as an individual. 

A big part of my work is also thinking about the things that are separating us and exploring ways in which we can experience different forms of intimacy, like different forms of care and collectivity. In general, throughout history, nothing great is ever done by oneself alone. 

So you are very much driving toward participation, toward shared experiences and a kind of radical inclusion, in your practices?  

I am thinking about the work being something that you participate in and make connections through. I want you to walk into the space and there is something there that draws you in that it makes you feel comfortable enough to be a part of it. You are a participant in the work. I think that's the thing that I'm really trying to push, as well as creating new environments — breaking down these barriers of public and private space, and reclaiming space.

My piece, Play, Lay, Aye, for example, is a large modular pink, sculptural piece. I'm definitely thinking about creating space for queer people of color with it. Every programming [event] that I do with that structure is bringing those communities to the forefront of the work [through their participation], whether that be through a poetry reading, a vogue performance, movement or dance, or music that goes along with the piece. The people that I'm collaborating with are essential for the piece to become a way to amplify and invite community.

“My hope is that the work just constantly creates a conversation with whoever is around it.”

The same is true for Supplement Projects. If you look at past exhibitions, curators that have collaborated with us, or any of the programming, we are putting people of color at the forefront there as well.  

We're given opportunities as artists, as curators, and in life, to create what we want to exist. I have the ability to choose who I work with and who I elevate, and I want to make those choices so it's a reflection of my communities and a way to bring them together.

You’re the first Commissioner artist of Season Three. What can members expect from your work for the program?

There are some first-time things for me in this project. It’s my first time working on a large editioned piece. I was interested in how I take these monumental public pieces and make them intimate so that people have something to take with them, to build conversation, even on a smaller scale. 

And again, I’m interested in the idea of community. My hope is that the work just constantly creates a conversation with whomever is around it.

Learn more about GeoVanna Gonzalez on her website: https://geo-vanna.com/