As a researcher and artist, Featured Artist Annalisa Barron's creative practice is inspired by her observations as a woman in filmmaking and as a blue-collar tradesperson.
Barron's diverse body of work spans various forms, encompassing public art, painting, projecting sculptures, metalwork, and film.
Through her art, Annalisa Barron aims to reshape light, color, sound, and space, giving rise to surreal environments that invite exploration of the interplay between personal, physical, and hyper-realities.
Her work is a fusion of extremes, blending surreal world-building with a passion for physics and historical research.
Annalisa's background as a tradesperson influences her work ethic, emphasizing skill acquisition and patience, which she carries into her studio.
Artwork Archive had the chance to chat with Annalisa Barron about how her background as a blue-collar tradesperson plays a role in her creative process, advice she has for artists, and how Artwork Archive makes her art career more manageable!
You can see more of her work on Discovery and learn more about her art practice below.
Annalisa Barron, Norse No. 14, 25.5 x 31.5 in, 2022
Do you have a favorite or most satisfying part of your process? If so, can you share a bit about it?
In the studio, I'm most satisfied when lost in a process—the small moments of the movement of a hammer or a new binder in my paint that allows it to glide more fluidly.
Occasionally, I get to hear about the nuances of someone’s lived experience because of something they connect with in the work. That always makes me feel a bit lucky, and in some way, like I’ve done something that another person needed.
Though, if I were to think of what keeps me going, the most satisfying and affirming thing I experience is seeing a long-term project come to fruition.
My projects can take about 1-3 years to research and to be fully realized. I may need to learn an entirely new material or plan a fundraising campaign to pursue an opportunity.
Knowing that things I have viewed as unattainable can actually happen keeps my inner child alive and looking for the next dream to take on—I’m very thankful for that part of this life.
Your practice encompasses public art, painting, projecting sculptures, metalwork, and film. How do you decide which medium to use for a particular concept?
The concepts are usually related to the material (i.e. moving images are related to light traveling through a lens). The history of mass-produced lenses/cameras inspired me to relocate to Rochester, NY, and make sculptures with optical glass from Bausch + Lomb and Kodak.
I form relationships with the materials I work with as well. Part of how I experience a ‘craft’ is trying to understand its connection to my body and identity.
After careful examination of what I value and how I want to use my energy, I’ve chosen to focus on materials and techniques related to the area my family was originally from in Norway.
It will take years—quite possibly decades—but I value giving my time to training my body to reconnect with a lineage of makers and then have the ability to pass on those skills.
Annalisa Barron, Boundary No. 5, 24 x 14 x 0.75 in
How do your experiences as a blue-collar tradesperson influence your art? Are there specific themes or perspectives that emerge from this background?
There’s a long history of the trades being married to craft and sculpture.
Joseph Albers made stained glass windows before teaching at the Bauhaus, and David Smith was a stick welder during WWII.
I think, generally, we haven’t focused on the trades in an art historical sense because it didn’t support the “mystique” of artwork—which is directly connected to its value in most cases. To know an artwork is, in fact, directly joined with the work of countless, nameless workers wasn’t appealing to art historians until recently.
Blue-collar work has always been a part of my life. When I was 19 years old, I was OSHA-certified to run two-stroke engines for Americorps.
That meant that when I entered the workforce, my marketable skill was operating a chainsaw.
Since I owned the one I worked with, I was very comfortable using it and knew what it could do intimately. When I started college at 22 years old (studying drawing and painting), it didn’t take very long for my studio to include my chainsaw, power drill, and other tools related to that work—they left great marks.
Later, even when I was working long hours making sculptures for films, I made part of my living as an apprentice for a blacksmith. When I was teaching in studio art programs, I still took night classes through a community college to learn how to weld.
I developed ideas for the metal sculptures I wanted to make in 2017 and I was determined to gain the knowledge and skills they required. It took until 2020 to be able to make them and until 2022 to make them well (in my opinion).
The trades require a work ethic that values skill acquisition and patience—I try to bring that mindset into the studio.
Your work seems to be deeply rooted in observing and interacting with public spaces. How do these different spaces shape your creative process?
More and more, my time is consumed by things that are “located” on a screen.
We all experienced people mentally disconnecting from the present when smartphones became ubiquitous. Our attention is devoted less and less to understanding where we are and what our bodies are experiencing.
Out of a desire to remain attached to where I am and my own experience, I choose to highlight the singularity of specific places in my work.
That includes how information about a place is preserved. It’s fascinating for me to have conversations about our relationship to un-mediated experience, whether it's with archivists or the butcher in Hyeres who generously tolerated (my butchered) French.
You currently teach sculpture at the University of Rochester and The Rochester Institute of Technology. How does teaching impact your own creative practice and perspectives?
When I was in school, my creative practice was heavily influenced by the people around me, mainly because we all had to navigate broken systems together—these things are a team sport.
I try to keep that in mind when I am collaborating with other artists or working with students/assistants; the goal is the success of the team.
The academicization of studio and conceptual art has evolved into programs that mainly serve affluent students who do not need to make a living from their work. They require an abundance of time and resources to be effective, which most young artists do not have.
My mentors and professors, all of whom I was lucky to learn from, candidly expressed concern for my former classmates and now I have the same concerns for my own students.
I admire them all for finding a way to navigate circumstances that do not serve them or set them up for professional success.
I encourage all of my students to also take entrepreneurship and business classes if they want to pursue being an artist.
Annalisa Barron, Yolk With Virgin, 120 x 86 x 6 in, 2023
What does success as an artist mean to you?
I have reached goals that meant "success" to me at a certain time, and in my experience, once you accomplish one goal there is immediately a new one! Finding balance outside of that kind of thinking has been very helpful.
At this point, I am more concerned with why I make the work and what it does to my life.
Will it create new experiences or connect me with new like-minded people? Would I still pursue a project even if no one ever sees or talks about it? Asking myself these questions has been very rewarding.
So, I suppose, success to me right now is to be able to continue to follow the work, wherever it may go, while remaining healthy and available to loved ones.
What impact do you hope your artwork will have on viewers?
I think the artists that have had an impact on me created things that were able to communicate a kind of ‘unspoken’ aspect of humanity that hadn’t occurred to me before.
Some of those works are hundreds of years old but still ‘speak’ and inspire.
As ambitious as it may sound, I hope my artwork can create that same experience of ‘immaterial’ communication and timelessness. I view both of those things as something I actually have no control over—a kind of karmic justice.
Annalisa Barron, Norse No. 11, 10 x 10 in, 2022
Could you provide some insights into your creative workspace? How does your physical environment contribute to your artistic process?
Right now, I work out of three spaces; one for metalwork, one for clean work (painting, drawing, and administrative tasks at the Rochester Contemporary Art Center), and one for making non-metal sculpture and storing work that does not need to be in a climate-controlled environment.
I'm still unpacking and getting settled into that space and am hoping this “multi-studio” period is temporary.
My physical environment contributes to my artistic process quite a bit–I am a goldfish—meaning my work grows or shrinks to fit the space it’s in.
I know that I need to be able to completely focus when I'm working with machines or with anything that involves fire and electricity.
So, I like to work in spaces that are ‘bomb proof’ and don’t place constraints on noise, working hours, or messy mediums. I consider a space productive when it doesn’t require additional thought or time to work in–no rewiring, no ventilation issues, and little to no regulation.
Why did you decide to use Artwork Archive to manage your artwork? How do you use Artwork Archive on a daily basis?
I found Artwork Archive online when I was curating an exhibition booth of 15 artists from Rochester, NY for Art Fair 14C in Jersey City in 2022.
Until that point, I had my own Excel spreadsheet and ways that I kept track of my own work but creating documents (artwork labels, QR codes, price lists, etc.) for a diverse group was taking longer than I thought it should.
During this time I was teaching, showing my own work, and co-curating an artist residency. I couldn’t let anything be a waste of resources.
When I realized how much time I could save by just entering the information for a piece (one time!) and then selecting what document to generate, I was sold.
I'm still really thankful for how much energy I save and how quickly I can communicate with clients and curators.
I’ll be running errands and can just send someone a catalog of pieces within the size range for a show from my phone. I can use it to organize and label my inventory so I don’t have to constantly open boxes or go to different places to look for things.
I tell everyone about it—if I didn’t I wouldn’t have agreed to this interview! It’s made my studio practice much more manageable and gives me something to suggest when my colleagues are overwhelmed with admin work.
Annalisa Barron, Skew Series No. 36, 18 x 15 x 30 in, 2021
What advice would you give an emerging artist during this time?
I have a theory that artists don’t emerge.
I think being an artist is a condition you’re born with. Some of us have no choice but to pursue doing it for a living—I feel like someone else when I’m out of the studio for too long.
But, for those just starting out, make a five-year plan and keep a regular studio schedule to pace yourself.
If you’re going to rely on your brain and body to remain in a creative state in order to make your living, you almost need to think like an athlete; be careful what you eat, drink twice as much water, and schedule time to rest both your mind and body.
Annalisa Barron uses Artwork Archive to search for important details about her artwork, generate professional-looking reports, and more.
You can make an online portfolio, catalog your artwork, and generate reports like inventory reports, tear sheets, and invoices in seconds with Artwork Archive. Take a look at Artwork Archive's free trial and start growing your art business.
