Rachel Rosenfeld-Dlatt
Chicago, IL
My name is Rachel Ahava Rosenfeld-Dlatt, and I am a painter working in Wrigleyville, Chicago.
MessageMy name is Rachel Ahava Rosenfeld-Dlatt, and I am a painter working in Wrigleyville, Chicago. Every day I spend hours mixing colors on my giant glass palette, facing off with new canvases, and conducting research. My studio houses countless unresolved paintings as well as my shoebox-archive of found snapshot photographs and the treasure-trove of art books that bring my artistic practice to life.
Since moving to Chicago in the summer of 2016, I have shown work in museums, pop- up galleries, and group exhibitions from Chicago to San Diego, New York, and beyond. I recently completed the first Connect International Artist Residency, which culminated in an exhibition. I continue to be involved with Connect as their first Fellow.Away from my easel, I spend every Sunday teaching Kindergarten in my role on the faculty of the Joseph and Belle Braun Anshe Emet Religious School.
I am a native of Kansas City, Kansas, where I found my enthusiasm for painting while getting myself hopelessly lost at my mother’s office. Her job in the African Art Department at The Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art gave me access to miles of maze-like galleries to explore in wonder.
I started painting during my first semester of college, where I was notorious for refusing to leave my corner of our shared studio. I graduated in 2014 from Hollins University in Roanoke, Virginia with a B.A. in Studio Art. In 2016, I completed my M.F.A in Visual Art at Washington University in St. Louis. I also studied with the Jerusalem Studio School’s master class in Civita Castellana, Italy, and have since taken classes at the University of Chicago and Hyde Park Art Center. Before moving to Chicago, I had opportunities to make and research art in several cities in Europe and the Middle East, spending the lion’s share of my time in Todi, Italy and Berlin, Germany.
Statement
My paintings are based on found objects-primarily snapshot photographs discarded by the original owners (in concert with bits of aging wrapping paper, and assorted scraps of ads and construction paper). Each photograph fascinates me, they are full of eye-catching glimmers and cloudy corners, and lively subjects who stare out at me. Handling them is like turning over a fossil. Unspeaking relics whose habitats I can only imagine. Like an archaeologist, I use my brushes to touch the past, caressing the faces, the furniture, the fabric that drapes and stretches. I spend way too many hours exploring the peculiar hues, and building them up until the tiny snapshot faces materialize. I care about these people, the stories that I imagine for them. In Judaism, the highest mitzvah (good act) is to bury the dead because it is a favor they can never repay. My practice feels similar to me, because I devote myself to these strangers, pouring hours of effort into creating likenesses only to eclipse them with thick-painted shapes and patterns. I am fascinated not only by familiarizing myself with the photo-but with the emotions that interrupted compositions cause. Artifacts hide behind damage and dust, we must use our imaginations to make them whole. Snapshots bear little fidelity to the moments preserved within them, and I am enchanted by the simultaneous potential and aggravation of getting up-close-and-personal with mystery.
My practice is all about devoting attention, effort, and focus to remnants left by people who cannot speak for themselves. Growing up Jewish, my family had very few souvenirs of their new American life. Even fewer survive from the "old country". The few photographs we have are precious, but deceptive. They show a lower middle class, white, American family making a home in the shadow of the St. Louis Arch (which was incomplete at the time). Every midwestern home has a shoebox full of pictures just like them. The truth, that the husband and wife were born to newly-arrived refugees, who feared America nearly as much as they feared the goyim that chased them out of Europe. They wore their discount clothing and Missouri accents like armor. Assimilation and anonymity protected them from neighbors not eager to have foreigners next door. They left photos and documents and heirlooms behind. I hope that whoever found them sensed their importance and kept them safe. I wonder what assumptions they made about my family based on their jettisoned valuables. I wonder how much more I might learn if these objects were suddenly returned by some kind stranger from Siberia or Western Poland. Collecting, keeping, and studying the photographs of nameless families allows me to imagine minutiae of an America that terrified and thrilled my grandparents, full of material wealth and suburban serenity. The hours that I spend in the dark corners of snapshot- homes are like a balm for all of the stories, lighthearted or tragic, that I was never told lived by people who I do not know well enough to miss. So I direct my curiosity and energy towards people right in front of me, and dedicate myself to bringing them back into the living world. I am ignorant to their life stories, but I feel strongly that absent people deserve to be missed. By reinventing them as works of art, these nameless people will be seen and wondered-about by visitors. Embedded in countless fabricated tales, they are no longer anonymous.
My name is Rachel Ahava Rosenfeld-Dlatt, and I am a painter working in Wrigleyville, Chicago. Every day I spend hours mixing colors on my giant glass palette, facing off with new canvases, and conducting research. My studio houses countless unresolved paintings as well as my shoebox-archive of found snapshot photographs and the treasure-trove of art books that bring my artistic practice to life.
Since moving to Chicago in the summer of 2016, I have shown work in museums, pop- up galleries, and group exhibitions from Chicago to San Diego, New York, and beyond. I recently completed the first Connect International Artist Residency, which culminated in an exhibition. I continue to be involved with Connect as their first Fellow.Away from my easel, I spend every Sunday teaching Kindergarten in my role on the faculty of the Joseph and Belle Braun Anshe Emet Religious School.
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