Jamian Juliano-Villani Gets to Work | Art21 "New York Close Up"

Can an artist stay inspired day in and day out?

Under near constant deadlines for the last four years, painter Jamian Juliano-Villani grapples with the demands of consistently producing new and better work. Her paintings have received widespread attention, including gallery and museum exhibitions, adding to the stresses of growing as an artist. "The main pressure is maintaining integrity and making work that you feel good about," says the artist, "even under pressure, which is really difficult."

As a teenager in New Jersey, Juliano-Villani recalls watching artists like Robert Rauschenberg and Frank Stella in the 1973 documentary “Painters Painting,” which inspired her to move to New York City. After taking on a variety of odd jobs—from overnight diner waitress to gymnastics instructor—her romanticized notion of the city changed, but Juliano-Villani has maintained a relentless dedication to advancing her artwork. “You’re only as good as your last painting,” the artist explains, “so each has got to be better.”

Painting a new work in her Ridgewood, Queens studio, the artist experiments with images from her vast digital image collection in a search for solutions, looking for the right content and composition to achieve a balance between psychological depth and light humor. When she gets stuck, Juliano-Villani calls upon friend, studio neighbor and 2017 Whitney Biennial artist Ajay Kurian for input. “I really want to push the paintings, but I don’t know how yet,” she says, “Hopefully I’ll figure it out and make them something that they aren’t yet.”

Jamian Juliano-Villani (b. 1987, Newark, New Jersey, USA) lives and works in New York. Learn more about the artist at: https://art21.org/artist/jamian-juliano-villani/

CREDITS | "New York Close Up" Series Producer: Nick Ravich. Director: Nick Ravich. Editor: Anna Gustavi. Cinematography: Adam Golfer & Tim Ciavara. Sound: Tim Ciavara. Design & Graphics: Open & Urosh Perisic. Artwork Courtesy: Jamian Juliano-Villani. Music: Blue Dot Sessions. Thanks: Ajay Kurian. © Art21, Inc. 2017. All rights reserved. © Art21, Inc. 2017. All rights reserved.

"New York Close Up" is supported, in part, by The Lambent Foundation; public funds from the New York City Department of Cultural Affairs in partnership with the City Council; VIA Art Fund; and by individual contributors.

[Ridgewood--Queens]

["New York Close Up"]

["Jamian Juliano-Villani Gets to work"]

It's a very simple routine:

I come in,

reheat my coffee,

go on to computer, look at stuff,

clean my brushes,

and then I get to work.

I've not had time off since I started,
which is crazy.

Once you have a deadline
it's like impending doom.

It's like a pimp!

Constantly, like you owe someone something.

Stress assassinates creativity.

If you make a bad painting
and your job is an artist,

it's like the worst.

It's mortifying.

It's like having chocolate all over your face
or something--

and you're going to some gala.

You're only as good as your last painting--

which sucks--

but, you know, it's kind of the truth.

I was growing up in the middle of nowhere,
in New Jersey.

And I just wanted to get out of New Jersey
and get to New York immediately.

New York is where it seemed like all
the artists went to be artists.

["Painters Painting"]

I was watching "Painters Painting"--

Stella i Rauschenberg
and blah blah blah,

and they're all in New York, you know--

sitting on ladders, covered in paint.

For me as a teenager, it was amazing.

"That's..."

"That's it!"
You know?

Now I romanticize it less

because coming to New York
and starting to be in the art world thing--

it's insane!

I had a million shitty jobs.

Overnight shift diner waitress.

I worked at a group home.

Taught gymnastics.

Kindergarten teacher.

I organized books for a marine
who was obsessed with ships.

I was commuting back and forth
from working at a restaurant in New Jersey.

so I could get my first apartment in New York.

I was basically painting on top of my bed,

staying up every other night to paint.

Slowly, I got a slightly bigger room--

and then I got a slightly bigger room.

Three years ago,
I actually got my first real studio ever.

That was like Christmas, every day.

--Terrible.

The paintings, I think, are...

They're tricky,

You need to make them better,
make them weirder

make them smarter,
make them dumber.

You just paint a snowman
in the desert...

That's it? Really?

Like, there's no other step,
you know?

It's like some stupid one-liner?

I have a sense of humor
and a really light way to approach something.

Just come up with a joke,

and then from there,
how can you offset that,

so it's like
psychological or personal?

It's like ping pong
back and forth, back and forth,

until it's just
all these things going like this,

negating itself.

A lot of weird decisions just happen here
by myself

in the middle of the night.

But also a lot of it is talking to other people.

If you have all these voices
coming here,

it's less of a one-person lecture.

[Ajay Kurian, Artist]

Across the hall is Ajay,

who is an amazing artist.

Man, he saved my ass so many times
with so many shows.

"Uh, can you give me a minute
and we could like, um..."

"You could just give me moral support please? Thanks."

--I'm thinking like a very very, super light,
pale teal kind of colors.

--Blue, or very very pale purple.

--Purple is probably better?

--Like cool purple.

[KURIAN]
--Like lavender, or?

[JULIANO-VILLANI]
--Cool ass purple.

[KURIAN]
--I could see that.

[JULIANO-VILLANI]
--Right.

--Or like a...

[KURIAN]
--Is that a vase or a mirror?

[JULIANO-VILLANI]
--Who the fuck knows?

--It will be a mirror.

[KURIAN]
--Okay.

[JULIANO-VILLANI]
--Hmm...

--Fuck.

One of my friends was telling me,

"Just put some crap in there,
no one can tell."

I was like, "Thanks, jerk!"

[Inhales sharply]

But I can definitely tell.

Because these are supposed to be confident.

I just turned 30.

I mean, I chainsmoke--
like, you know, a pack and a half a day.

I drink a lot.

My sleeping habits are terrible.

I eat garbage.

This is just a vessel,
you know what I mean?

The past couple of years, I had so much stamina

and just kept on working and pumping.

And now, it's like, when it actually matters,

I got to make sure I still have it.

I think the main pressure is
maintaining integrity

and making work that you feel good about--

even under pressure,
which is really difficult.

I really want to push the paintings--

and I don't know how yet,
but hopefully I'll figure it out

and make them something
that they aren't yet.

I know I'm going to make some, like,

embarrassing, bad sculptures
or videos or something.

But, like, fuck it,
I got to do it,

now is the time--

while I have the energy.