Sofia Fernandez Díaz: y luego bailaron / and then they danced

Claudine Isé: Sofia, can you tell us a little bit about where you grew up, and what your childhood and young adult years were like for you? How does your personal background inform who you are as an artist and your approach to making work?

Sofía Fernández Díaz: My earliest and most vivid memory of “creating” is running to the sandbox at recess with the pure objective of packing my shoes with sand. I would sacrifice uncomfortable tightness around my feet for the rest of the day just so I could dump them out as soon as I got home and mix the sand with whatever I could get my hands on — glue, paint, eggs, water, soap. Then I would be mesmerized as I watched the combinations transform into something entirely new.

At a very young age my family and I moved to Minnesota for 7 years; I was introduced to another culture that wasn't my own. It opened up many perspectives on what it meant to belong to a different culture. At the same time this cultural displacement allowed me to understand where my roots came from. Curiosity drove me to investigate my identity.

Living in different parts of the world throughout my life made my connection to Mexico stronger from an early age. I am constantly submerged into the cultural wealth of my roots, by its historical and artistic heritage. Artisanal and ancient processes have been an essential part of my journey as an artist; these have led me to expand my horizons to new cultures and traditions. For the past few years I have dedicated an in-depth investigation of ancient processes and the symbolisms that lie within them.

CI: In a recent email you mentioned to me that “This series has allowed me to deeply explore an idea that has always fascinated me… making something strange, defamiliarize the object when I sit with it for a long time. I start seeing it in a completely different way, away from its original function. In a deep state of observation over time, the object starts to become ridiculous, it becomes something else, an openness to become something NEW.”

Your observations here remind me of a phenomenon called “semantic satiation,” the thing that happens when you repeat a single word over and over again – the sounds of that word eventually become meaningless, just repeated noises without any connected signification. Through the multiple repetitions of semantic satiation, the cultural / social / linguistic significance of a word dissolves and we’re left with something akin to the pure materiality of language, a kind of empty casing. I’m curious as to how this idea of “semantic satiation” may, or may not, relate to your process in working with found and familiar objects. Put simply, why is the notion of making an object strange, of ‘defamiliarizing it,’ important to you?

SFD: I am fascinated about the capacity of our complex mind to be able to do this with words and I believe that it can also be done with objects. Having the ability to see things with a new perspective is the initial part of my process, the most mundane, the things that pass unperceived because we are so used to having them all around. I am a collector of things of this kind, I am always in search in my everyday life, on the streets, in flea markets, thrift stores…finding them is the start, then they live in my studio/home where I see them constantly, sometimes for years, until I feel the need to transform them into something.

CI: There is a beautifully produced video on your website – I’m curious as to who made/produced this video and what was the context of making it? The video focuses on the natural / nature-based materials you are drawn to and the ways in which you make your own pigments.  Can you tell us more about this video, when it was made, and the processes it is showing?

SFD: In 2017 I was invited to participate in Bastidores- it was an artist run initiative where ten visual artists and ten filmmakers were matched to collaborate.  I was randomly paired with Rodrigo EL RORRRRAZ who is now one of my closest friends.   We went to a remote town called Almoloya, two hours away from Mexico City, where we hiked until we found the perfect location for the creation of a painting. There was a pond, five different colored clays, rain, bugs...NATURE. It was a huge pivot in my career.

I began a series called Registro visual del tiempo (visual registration of time) where time and the environment became a key component in my work: painting in unison with nature's landscapes, weather and its materials. I placed the textile on the earth and let it sit there for days. I scavenged for pigments, and continuously added the paints I made daily, while the earth added to them too. Fungus grew on them, creating patterns that determined how I would interact with them later on. I've created eighteen paintings in this series, in different parts of Mexico.

CI: Do you think there is a particularly Mexican quality in, or approach to, the work you make (especially given the fact that you are currently working outside of Mexico in the U.S.)? Whether yes or no, can you explain how and why?

SFD: YES, always. My connection to Mexico is always present. Being away from my culture has always been very hard for me but also it makes it a lot stronger. I miss it everyday, but it's ingrained in my system.

One of the biggest cultural experiences that changed my life was when I met Jiñi Ñuu, a community of women backstrap weavers in the Mixteca Oaxaqueña. They invited me to stay and I lived with them for a month; I submerged myself in their world, in their ancestral practice. This deep observation of their daily rituals was beyond cathartic. Contemplating their weaves on a daily basis was a glimpse into the myths and arts of ancient Mexico. Being present was a celebration of my cultural heritage; a deep and genuine admiration grew within me for these women. Ever since that I carry with me lingering questions of what it means to be a woman maker, the importance of gestural repetition, the body as a tool, and so much more….

CI: Tell us a bit about your Patitas sculptures, of which there are many examples in our show. ‘Patitas’ translates to ‘legs,’ ‘paws’ or ‘feet’ in English – how did you develop this form, and what does it mean to you?

SFD: I lived in Oaxaca for a couple of years and one day in the market a woman gifted me some beeswax and I have been invested in exploring this material ever since. I began by testing its capacity of transformation by introducing it to different elements of change. It never ceases to amaze me, the results are always so different and exciting. There are a lot of similarities with geological forms but also my own skin; biomimicry and self-similarity are terms that arouse and  I am still studying in relation to wax today.

For the last year I've been making Patitas, which are tiny legs. This has been a huge connection with the objects that I collect, it's like I'm interviewing them thinking through their histories and stories. Their role in this life and how and why they were discarded. The patitas are allowing these objects to stand in space in such a different way. It gives them a stance, a characteristic for them to come alive.  Patitas have brought playfulness and humor into my process and work.

CI: Can you talk about some of your favored materials, such as beeswax, glass, fiber, and handmade pigment? What do these materials signify for you, and why do you think you find yourself returning to them in the studio?

SFD: All these materials have so much in common, they are so different but an underlying characteristic that connects them for me is the fluidity of their nature. I am always in search of material discovery that exposes an open-minded attitude towards process. I try to recognize the potential of what is right in front of me. I am looking for the transformative aspect of each material, homing in on the little shifts that will allow them to become sculptures. In every instance, the material serves a particular function or crucial role in the overall, the decisions I make come through a flexible balance of purpose and happenstance. Placing materials as if they were extensions of my body. How does material act, how does it perform? How do they change? How do they form? How does gravity allow them to react?

My most recent exploration has been the rhythmic accumulative gestures and the fluidity of the materials and tools I encounter. Mostly they function through repetitive movements and actions, being in process with them becomes a dance, they become part of my body.  The intimate aspect of these materials and the bodily associations have led me to exploring somatic territory.

CI: Tell us about the ways in which you think about scale, and how scale functions in your work. Many of the sculptures here range from medium-small to tiny in size. How do you think about that scale in relationship to human bodies -- can you talk about how scale functions in this group of sculptures, and if you are drawn to making smaller pieces for particular reasons?

SFD: Close observation and paying attention to the smallest details in my visual landscape has been the way I understand and communicate with my environment.  It's important for the body to move in closer to look at the object as an intimate gesture. The smallness of something that can easily be nested in your hand is much easier to relate to.  For me, there is an urge to engage with them physically, to know their edges, softness, sharpness, tactileness; imagining the possibility of moving it around your hand becomes an easy bridge to get to know the thing you are looking at.