A Conversation with Woody De Othello
Last year during the pandemic, I interviewed artist Woody De Othello about his adventure at Paulson Fontaine Press making prints. There was a lot of interesting material that couldn’t fit into that interview, so I thought I would share it here.
Q: I looked at some of your shows online. This seems like a lot of positive attention for a young artist, especially for your big yellow fan at the Art Basel Miami Beach show. Can you talk a little about that?
A: I’m just glad that I’m able to make art. I don’t dwell on that part of it so much. I just want to keep on making stuff. That’s something I haven’t processed too much, to be honest. I’m glad that I get to wake up and think, “What art do I want to make today?” That’s the thing that I’m most excited about, just having the agency over my time. You know? The galleries that I work with supported my idea of making a big-ass yellow fan. That’s insane, but I’m glad that they had faith in me to do something like that.
Q: You’ve talked about being influenced by African art, specifically, nkisi figures, which are vessels for spirits.
A: A lot of the stuff that I make has this cathartic quality. I’m able to put a lot of my own personal vulnerability and emotion into these works. Nkisi figures did a lot of that. I went through a period where I was trying to learn about African culture before colonization. These things absorb a lot of what’s going on for me.
Q: This last year has brought this incredible awareness to some white people that being white is not invisible. Does this shift impact your work?
A: I don’t think so. The conversation that I’m having this year was the same conversation that my dad was having when he first moved to this country from Haiti. I’ve been trying to be a little more subtle with the work, like I don’t want to beat anybody over the head with it. I started asking myself, “What happens if I imbue the objects in the space with some of the psychology and emotion that I’m going through?” That’s a much more layered conversation to have. And it requires you to be more empathetic and more open to receiving it.
Q: Do you still have family in Haiti?
A: Most of my family is in Miami, but some of my cousins and aunts and uncles are in Haiti.
Q: How is being here different from being in Miami?
A: In South Florida, it’s definitely more about immigration and being an immigrant. In Oakland, it’s a whole different context. It’s about the history of what happened to Black people. I feel like I’ve definitely learned more about racism in my time in the Bay Area.
Q: Is that because almost everybody has moved here from somewhere else?
A: In South Florida, there’s an assumption that you are not a Black American. “Is your family from Haiti?” “Is your family from Jamaica?” It’s very diverse in that sense, where just because you’re Black doesn’t mean you assimilate with all the other Black people around you. Out here in Oakland, if you’re Black, you just fall under that blanket with racism and slavery.
Q: What direction do you think your sculpture’s going to take next?
A: That’s a good question. If there’s anything I’ve learned during my time here at the residency, it’s that I could afford to trust myself a little bit more, to be free and not second-guess so much. Like an empty slate.
I’m going to try and keep that energy with the sculptures. I’ve been watching a lot of jazz documentaries. I love how they talk about the ability to improvise and leave space in a composition for you to be yourself and put your emotion into it.
Something that has really been transformative over the past years is to have more of a personal claim in the work. I am not trying to quote different philosophies or different texts. This is just about me and my experience. And I can’t speak for nobody else’s experiences but my own. I’m not the voice of all people who look like me. I’m just the voice of Woody and my experiences.
Other Links:
https://paulsonfontainepress.com/artist/woody-de-othello/
https://jessicasilvermangallery.com/woody-de-othello/
