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ARTS
KAREN TORRES
Painter and Sculptress, Princess of Maryvale.
Interview by Najmia Pack for ENVY
Photos by Ellier English Interview by Najmia Pack for ENVY
Hair by Priscilla Urrutia
Styling by Najmia Pack
Makeup by Cherrypit Beauty
Vulnerability is at the basis of Karen's work; it’s found between the pages of each notebook that is worked through atop cafe tables and between bedroom walls. Flipping through her various sketchbooks displayed a tour of swelled memories including texture, vivid colors, girls you’ve passed on the street in fabulous outfits, and bold attitudes.
Although she has been exploring her artistic abilities since first stumbling upon pastels in her childhood neighborhood, she’s moved her artwork from her personal home studios, ‘a girls world’, to installations across downtown Phoenix. Karen has brimmed the artist scene with solo exhibitions and community shows, bringing the audience—often including her own family—to her reality. Art has been an opportunity for Karen to manifest the future, past, and present in real form between sculpture, painting, drawing, and sketching
Karen Breceda: I got introduced to the art scene through Labor [art collective], and Palabra, so that was the beginning, and then that's all I knew. And now I'm slowly starting to branch out.
Najmia Pack: How old are you?
KB: I'm 21.
NP: Okay, sweet. Where do you normally hang out? Are you from Phoenix?
KB: I'm from Maryvale area, Tolleson. I was born in Maryvale, and then moved to Tolleson. Then moved back to Maryvale in 6th grade.
NP: That's your hub, though.
KB: That's my hub, but I didn't realize, not the implications but, everything that came with that until a lot later, I guess.
NP: What do you mean?
KB: Kind of the whole ”The West Side” thing you know. I always say, I didn't know I lived in the ghetto until someone said, “Ohh, you live over there.” It's just interesting to see…
NP: All the, like, assumed things about the implications of the West Side's nature.
KB: Yeah, and then I just think about how it impacts, and shapes people's art, and then how it's shaped mine without knowing it. I think just being in my head about the way I create and the way you kind of present. It's always like any art, anything you do, you're tiptoeing.
NP: On one end, you're working to not contradict yourself and who you are, but then on the other hand, if you don't fit into the stereotype people have…
KB: Or it's just more like, is this too exaggerated? Or what's reality, what is my reality? And so I think that's what I'm trying to build through, not my art style, but just everything that comes with it, and just my world of it. It's a very interesting process, because I just started.
NP: So you feel like your first introduction to anything beyond the West Side has really been this past year in Phoenix?
KB: In some ways, I would say yes. Right after high school, I moved to Tucson for college because I just wanted to get away. So that was really my first time seeing [outside of the West Side]. I hate Tucson, bro, I hate Tucson, but I guess it's not that bad.
NP: What did you study there?
KB: I studied psychology.
NP: And when did you decide it wasn't gonna work?
KB: How did you know? After the first semester, basically right away, you know? And [I’m] like, “This isn't for me, I'm not thriving. I don't want to be here, but I don't want to be at home.” And I still feel that way. But it's like I have no other place. So I was just like, “Okay, I'm gonna get through the second semester, and I'm not coming back. I already know I'm not coming back.”
And then I went home, and a lot of family stuff was still going on. My grandpa had passed away at that time, and then after he passed away, my mom went to the doctor, and she was diagnosed with cancer. And from that first appointment, it was like “Oh, wow. My life, her life is going to change so much, and it's just gonna move so, so quick.” So I was dealing with that.
NP: How is she doing?
KB: She's good, she's cancer-free now, but it's hard because she's still sick, and she still has body pain; there are a lot of after effects.
I made a piece about it in the show, doing that solo show, there are six main pieces. And in those pieces, I'm like, "Wow, I can create a world from each little thing of these. I think that's what's crazy about art, because you can always go deeper and deeper and deeper.” But then it's like, okay, let me not get lost, and I think that's just where I'm at with art.
NP: So it's like you're kind of being pulled in two different directions.
KB: Every direction
NP: What would you say prevents you from getting lost? Why do you want to stay on track?
KB: Because I know I have so much potential, and I know every single idea I have is good. I just have to commit to myself and promise myself that if I show up for myself, that's what will truly make me happy. But it's not as easy as just saying that.
NP: It's like genuinely enforcing that which looks completely different. It takes more time in a way.
KB: Our brain knows, but our body doesn't. I don't know, we're just learning. We're young.
NP: Yeah. It's all an attempt.
NP: So in one of your shows, you posted on your Instagram, “I want to see you, Maryvale wants to be seen by you, an event for the people by the people.” So, how is your work a part of the bridge to Maryvale being seen?
KB: I think I said that for that show because it was based in Maryvale. I don’t think it’s acute to Maryvale. I don't think it's just Maryvale that has that, it's every single place where Mexicans have gathered and created our own family and our own, because forced migration leads to you having to create these places like Palabra. That's the whole reason it's made, to nurture that. I always said during that time that we were meant to find each other. And it's not just with them, but growing up, a lot of my cousins weren't my blood cousins; they're just my dad's really good friends since they were little. And then they all moved over, so it's just like constantly finding each other. But that's life, too, always trying to find your people; it never ends. We're just always trying to look for people who think the same and feel the same as we do.
NP: What would you say are the main themes behind your work? I feel like when you're speaking, you have very specific people you're referring to in terms of your community, so who would you say is on your team in a way?
KB: The people at Palabra are on my team for sure, Jorge and Priscilla. My family. But I think no matter what, I learned this year that we only have ourselves, especially with art. Because you can tell anyone, “I want to do this, I want to do that.” But it doesn't really matter, because you have to do it all yourself. Video aspects, writing about your stuff, like all that, people can do it for you, but it's never going to be what you… [hand gestures] you know. So I just feel like I just learned I had to do everything myself. But at the same time, still knowing when to ask for help.
NP: I like to pay attention to the moments where the things that didn't work out for me ended up being better.
KB: Yeah, It’s like your parents are always telling you. I think that's what my art is a lot about, or the main themes are kind of everything turns into my parents speaking to me, so a lot of it is based off of that. Kind of like consejos, consejitos (advice). People tell me about my art, like it seems very playful, and my process seems playful, and it's like yes, but it's just a mess. I love being surrounded by all my stuff, and just literally being…
NP: In a frenzy.
KB: Yeah! But literally one of my main goals is to stop being that way. I feel like it kills you.
NP: I feel you, I just feel like it prevents me from seeing reality, and I'm a very reflective and nostalgic person.
KB: This year, two men have told me, “You live in a fantasy land.” And I'm like, what about it? And so what? You have to live in a fantasy land to keep going, but at the same time, I know there is truth to everything.
NP: I'm seeing myself within you right now.
NP: It's just like in between, like tunnel vision and going with the flow for me.
NP: But also, considering what you've gone through these past couple of years and what I've gone through as of late, it's a benefit to us to have a heart, to have this naivety.
KB: Good heart, crazy brain, right?
NP: Something like that. Does your mom have any nicknames for you, or does your family have any nicknames?
KB: Yes, and that's in my work too, or what I want to incorporate. My mom calls me Karena, which is just my name with an ‘A’. And my dad calls me Ore, Orejas, Orejitas. which is just ‘ears’, I have big ears. I grew into them a little bit. [Karen and Najmia begin flipping through the pages of Karen’s journal] But yes, these are the thoughts, the thoughts that consume.
NP: Is this your handwriting?
KB: Yes It says “no estoy creciendo, no encuentro mi estilo de vida”, which is like, I'm not growing, and I'm not finding my style of living. But that was just when I was emo.
NP: Do you feel like you kind of have developed a code within your words?
KB: Yes!! In another journal, I wrote about how even in our journals, we still write in code, like writing what nobody will ever understand. We're still protecting people, or protecting our feelings. I feel like there's never a place of full vulnerability as a woman. I don't know, even in my darkest feelings, I can't let it out, I can’t go there.
But that's why we make art. I'm everywhere bro I'm sorry, but that's just how I am. But I've been doing a lot of sketchbooks in this style, so that later on I can go in and color them in. I'm just kind of setting myself up with a bunch of sketches, and I can do any medium. I can do a sculpture of this. Sam, the first time she saw “Share My World” at Palabra, we did a little walk through together. There was this piece “Trompudas” I did with three girls, and she was like, “It's giving ancient baddies.” So it's like combining the old with the new.
NP: That actually leads to one of my questions. How does your work develop from an idea to taking form? Do you go straight to the page, straight to the sculpture? I also read that when you were younger, you found oil pastels in your neighbor's house.
KB: There was an alleyway between our two houses, and it was just sitting on top of a tire. And I was like, yeah, need that. And so I just started, I just immediately wrote my name, my brother's name, and my sister's.
NP: Where do you like to create?
KB: All around my house. I used to have a studio. I told my dad when the first show “El Mundo es un Barrio”[Labor] came up that I needed the space. So I used to be in the garage. That was the setup. [shows pictures] It's girl world. My art is very much in girl news, and in girl world. We never cared about anything else.
“But that's why we make art. I'm everywhere bro I'm sorry, but that's just how I am. But I've been doing a lot of sketchbooks in this style, so that later on I can go in and color them in. I'm just kind of setting myself up with a bunch of sketches, and I can do any medium. I can do a sculpture of this. Sam, the first time she saw “Share My World” at Palabra, we did a little walk through together. There was this piece “Trompudas” I did with three girls, and she was like, “It's giving ancient baddies.” So it's like combining the old with the new.”
NP: Do you have a lot of your sketchbooks from when you were younger?
KB: I have a lot of drawings, not necessarily sketch books. I have this picture where it's me writing about my kindergarten class, and I'm like wow, I still talk like this. I do incorporate, because I knew when I was younger that I wanted to be an artist.
NP: Was being an artist something that you always declared, or your parents just naturally supported, and you didn't think any differently?
KB: I was just like, I want to be an artist, and then once I started having a brain that could think about sustaining myself, I was like, I'm gonna go into psychology, and I'm gonna be a clinical psychologist. And that stemmed from me just going to Mexico and dealing with my grandpa, he was very sick, and he was bipolar. Just immediately throwing the moods everywhere.
NP: When did the word art begin to reshape itself as home?
KB: Since the beginning, because it's something I did at home, when you're most comfortable and when you're alone. It’s always been home.
NP: It's sweet that the first thing that you did [on the oil pastel box] was write your siblings' names down.
NP: So what did your parents do for work?
KB: My mom has always been an office girly. She was going in at 5 am, so she would drop us off before school, at my grandparents' house, and I was raised by my grandparents, that's like very common in Mexican families. My dad did all forms of construction, AC, HVAC, sheet metal, just all that. He's in the union now. Again, I'm very personable in my work, every single aspect of my life, I will put it in there. I'm trying to put it in there, but it's about being proud of my dad, my parents, and my brother, and what they've built for themselves, while also acknowledging where they do lack. That's a big part, I'm calling everyone out in my art.
NP: That's kind of one of my questions. “Fish don't know they are in water.” When you bring very real, well-thought-out themes, memories, and problems through your work, do you ever feel like you are reintroducing the truth to those closest to you, like your family?
KB: Well, that was the whole premise of my solo show. My artist talk, I loved it. It was the closing ceremony. My parents basically told me, that's the first time I've ever seen you that way, like that's the first time I've ever perceived you in this way. Maybe it was just the moment where they're like, “She's growing up and she's eloquent, she speaks good, she knows what she's talking about.” But then a couple of weeks later, it's like that all goes out the window for them. That was kind of hard for me.
I have been frustrated my whole life with things being unsaid, things being just swept under. I think when my grandparents passed away, my dad's dad, it was just a lot of shutting down, and going our own separate ways, and digging ourselves deeper into depression. I just think we can't say that, I can't say my dad has depression, but he did.
I'm trying to find peace this year with knowing that I did as much as I could with that show, for them to see what hurts me, what hurts us; what has hurt us for so long. I said, it was an acknowledgement of my parents' pain, of my pain, my siblings' pain, and whether or not/how far they choose to look into that and change is up to them. When I talked to Anitah about some of my art, she just told me that Yari and I have a lot in common. Not just themes, but that we kind of exist in the same world. And I'm like, well, yes, because we're cut from the same cloth.
I'm very grateful, through that show, that I was able to form that community, because I've never been seen the way that I have, and my pain has not been acknowledged in that way before. I remember the night I put it up, Yari was working the next morning, and she was like, “I already cried.” We're always crying. Every time we hang out it's just a cry.
In regards to my family, it was kind of for me to be like, “I see you guys, I see what we've gone through, We don't have to suffer in silence.” That was a big one, a lot of the big quotes that I kept telling myself.
NP: I’m with you, I feel like in POC families, anything is taboo. If you speak about your problems with people other than your family, or sometimes your family, something is wrong with you.
KB: Or it's like, “you should never talk about this.” And my mom didn’t even try to have a conversation with me about that, but she was like, “You can't say that.” I’m like, “What do you think I'm doing with my art?” That's literally the whole reason I started creating.
It's a big part. All the girls that I know who are creating right now, and are Mexican, we all acknowledge the fact that women are treated like shit. Doing the show, I realized I'll always protect the mommies. They do everything; women literally do everything in my family. They've done everything for these men. It's just frustrating; it's a lot of frustration, and the girls are mad.
But also, we're barely breaking out of always doing stuff for other people. My mom has done that her whole life; my grandma has done that her whole life. That's all we know, and we're barely breaking out of it, and it feels wrong. It feels wrong in our hearts, not necessarily to choose ourselves but…We don't know the balance of choosing ourselves and keeping other people in mind.
NP: In your work, obviously, you eventually give the world you created an explanation, you eventually give your family an explanation. So, did it ever create tension when you kind of didn't want to tell them what was going on behind closed doors when you started creating?
KB: When it came to the pieces? Yes. My dad would be like, “Ay no te entiendo, you're crazy, I don't understand you, it's too much.” For the first show with Labor last December, when we did the swap meet installation. I tore my whole room upside down for it, because I recreated it. Then for the solo, I tore the whole house up. I would sleep in my sister's bed, and as soon as I woke up I'd get to work. And in those moments, I don't think I'm working, I'm just… I guess I'm just really emotional. I’ve always created since I was little because I was sad. Very “woe is me”. But it wasn’t until I finished [the pieces and the shows] that I could appreciate it, and realize I created the blueprints of what I'm going to do later.
I mean, that's one the most important parts of art, just having those moments with yourself and being like, I love this.
Eventually, I want to do animations of my stuff, incorporating what my characters would be saying or doing. So I add a lot of text bubbles to my sketches. It's obviously inspired by video games, like girlsgogames.com. Dress up games.
I'm just constantly getting closer and closer to the world I'm trying to make, but just physical.
NP: You said that initially, you wouldn't let people around you when you were creating, and it seems like you had to be super alone, even to get started, and which I feel like is a hard thing to negotiate when you're growing up is choosing you versus choosing the comfort of your own family.
KB: I feel like I'm constantly choosing it. That's why, when you said "sacrifice" in my work, that's the one time I don't have to sacrifice. When I made the sculpture of the three girls, I'm treating them as my parents have treated me. They're getting the best of the best, the best hair from the hair supply. I did a girl with long, long hair. It took forever to lay each strand, but in that, I'm like, “That's the price, you know?” Only the best for my girls, and that's how my parents are for me, I'm spoiled. It comes with its downfalls, but I am very privileged. They have taken care of me a lot; they still do.
It's kind of weird, I named one of the pieces “First Born.” Everyone says your art is your baby, but just to treat them the way the good parts of what my parents are showing me, it's sacred to me. That’s how it becomes sacred. All those feelings going into it. My parents did so much for me to be able to sit there and have the time to just think about art and nothing else. So I think that's what this year has been for me.
NP: So where does your work go when it's not in galleries?
KB: I've shown at Palabra, and I recently did another show through Omnisimul, their “Dear Phoenix” show - that was the most horrible experience ever. But the man who put the show together, he was just one of those white men who think they’re with it, but once it really comes down to it, you're not about it. My art was described as urban, provocative, like I brought the outside in. It was said that I was doing too much at certain times. It was my first form of rejection through art.
I just stood up to him, I just told him, from here forward, whoever you work with, you need to have better communication. Respectfully, I went off. A lot of the girls [from the show and my friends] told me, “We're proud of you, because when we were your age, we would have never thought to do that for ourselves.”
KB: I mean, the only thing is just stay true to yourself. Just be bark and bite.
NP: To wrap up, I want you to talk about magical realism.
KB: The first time I heard about that was through Joel, the writer for Labor. The full thing is hood magical realism. I think it describes a lot of how we, as a collective, Labor, we create because it's based on memories, it's based on dreams, it's based on what we see, but just our perspective, our heart put into it. So to me, that's magical realism, and he just described that hood magic realism is more real to him than any type of realism, because I think it's just raw, it's just real, it's just like straight from the heart. But I loved hearing that for the first time through his voice, because it just made me feel seen. “You know the words for what I feel.”
I think I love doing art because it makes me feel psychic. Because you create about the past, the future, and your present. You feel psychic, you feel in tune. That's the one time when I am in my zone, when I'm not creating out of pressure, I feel like that's the most present I feel, and that's the happiest I feel.