Gina Ariko: Exploring Culture & Heritage Through Art
Seattle based artist Gina Ariko explores her Japanese culture and heritage through visually-compelling still life paintings. Each still life in Gina’s Tadaima collection is tied directly to her family’s roots; depicting ceramic vessels that have been passed down for generations. In this interview, Gina shares her creative journey, and discusses her overarching goal to support women of color in the arts.
Tell me about your background and where your creative journey began.
I feel really lucky to have grown up in a family of artists. My jichan and baachan (mom's parents) were both professional artists in Japan, and some of my favorite childhood memories take place in their studio surrounded by art and learning to paint. They're both impressionist painters and I loved looking at their art as a kid. It seemed like magic the way I could look up close at the blobs of overlapping colors, then step back and see a soft, inviting scene appear on the canvas. I really wanted to know how to paint like them, and from as far back as I can remember I wanted to be an artist, too. However, because of the language and distance barriers between us, I wasn't able to connect with them as much as I wish I could have. Art became my way to reach out and share the stories I didn't have words for.
Where do you find inspiration for your work?
I draw a lot of inspiration from my Japanese family and heritage. Japan has such a rich history of art and culture, from tea ceremony to flower arranging, to ceramics, textiles, origami, and the list goes on. I don't pretend to be an expert in any of these topics, but instead approach them as a fun excuse to study more and share what I've learned in my painting.
My appreciation for these traditional practices were modeled for me by my family, too. For example, my jichan (grandpa) occasionally hand-painted silk kimonos, my baachan (grandma) made shibori, which is a traditional form of fabric dying - kind of a like a fancy tie-dye. My mom was formally trained in the art of tea ceremony and ikebana (flower arranging), and my uncle earned his degree in medieval Japanese literature and poetry.
I also find inspiration from old family photos and the feeling of nostalgia. Sometimes this shows up in a literal way: I like to paint portraits based on old photos. Also, as someone who grew up mixed race and first-generation Japanese-American, I often didn't know exactly where I "fit in," and looking at old photos sparked a lot of curiosity in me, as if I were fitting together the puzzle pieces that led to me being here and now.
What led you to launch the Tadaima Collection, and can you tell us about your personal connection to this series?
Tadaima means "I'm home" in Japanese, and the collection came from a deep feeling of homesickness. All of the paintings include Japanese ceramics collected by my family, some as far back as five generations. I chose these objects because they reminded me of sitting in my parents' and grandparents' kitchen, and felt like something tangible I could hold onto to feel closer to my family.
For context, I started the Tadaima collection around the holidays. At the time, my partner and I were planning a wedding that none of our family could attend because they all lived out of state; it ended up just being me and my husband, three local friends, and an officiant. At that same time, we learned that my jichan was extremely sick. He ended up spending the next two months in and out of the hospital, and none of us in the US could do anything about it or know if/when we'd see him again. Luckily, he recovered, but as of writing this Japan's borders are still closed to US travelers and we still don't know when we'll be able to see him.
The constant and stable presence of these ceramic objects, which were passed down from family member to family member, seemed to perfectly hold all the uncertainty and homesickness I was feeling at the time. They're some of the most personally meaningful paintings I've ever made.
How has your work shifted and evolved over time?
My work has shifted a lot! In art school I focused mostly on portraits. My senior exhibit was exclusively portraits, but after graduation my practice took a backseat, and for a few years I stopped painting altogether. This wasn't intentional, I was just living in very small apartments with multiple roommates and working a stressful 9-5 job with an hour commute each way. When I finally made my way back to the easel in 2019, I was too intimidated to paint the relatively large scale portraits I used to make, and started painting small still lifes instead. I used to think still lifes were "boring," but I became fascinated with the way they could capture a certain quiet intimacy, or even a playfulness. Food in particular seemed to evoke strong memories and associations from my audience, and I had a lot of fun experimenting with colors and patterns.
I regained my confidence as an artist through painting still lifes, and all the Tadaima paintings are still lifes, but lately I've been feeling called back to portraits and I'm really excited to see where this leads me.
What does a typical day in the studio look like for you, and how has your art practice grown or changed
My art practice has changed a ton in the last year and half! Like I said earlier, I stopped painting for a few years due to work stress and not prioritizing myself. In 2019 I picked my brushes back up and fell in love all over again. At the time, I was painting on the floor next to the TV or on the kitchen table after dinner. By 2020 I had my first little studio space (aka the spare room in our apartment). The timing worked out well, because by the summer of 2020 I became a full-time artist, and am so grateful to have a studio in my home!
Lately, a typical studio day looks like waking up, checking emails while making myself a cup of tea, then making a second cup of tea to bring into the studio with me, lighting a candle (I prefer citrus scents), and painting whatever I'm working on at the time. I love listening to audiobooks while I paint. The long narrative format helps me stay in the zone, and I always have a few in rotation to choose from. I was an English and Studio Art double major in college and almost became an English teacher, so books are a huge part of my life. I will happily chat books any time!
Which experiences have impacted your work as an artist?
This is hard for me to answer, because my artistic practice is so closely tied to my identity. I can't separate my art from my family lineage or cultural heritage. It all impacts my work as an artist!
That said, one of the biggest shifts for me was finding a supportive community of other women artists. Since I went full-time in the summer of 2020 during lockdown, I threw myself into online communities and it completely changed my life. Being a working artist, especially in the beginning, is full of uncertainty and isolation.
I've made so many amazing friends in the last year, and have been exposed to so many women at all stages of their career, working with all kinds of mediums/materials, and operating their creative businesses in all kinds of ways I'd never considered. It made me feel like anything was possible, and also made me realize that any doubt or obstacle I came across had already been overcome by someone else, and that was such a huge relief. I'm so grateful for community!
How has Instagram impacted your art career?
I'm still in my first year of business, but so far most of my sales have come directly through instagram. It's been an incredibly useful tool for me, and it's free, too! There are of course setbacks to relying so heavily on instagram, but if you're early in your career, the low barrier to entry makes it a great place to start.
Instagram is also how I found most of my artist friends, and they've all helped my career immeasurably. Sometimes in direct ways, like cross-promoting each other's work, but more importantly, just by being there to hold each other accountable, trouble-shoot problems, share fears/doubts, celebrate wins, and encourage each other to keep going.
What are your future goals and aspirations?
Right now my biggest goal is to facilitate a community for underrepresented women artists. There are so many stories that still haven't been told, and I recognize an overlap in how conversations about personal and professional identity unfold for WOC/minority women artists that I rarely see talked about.
Professional: Oh, you're an artist? Is that your real job? How do you make money? You don't look like an artist.
Personal: Where are you from? No, where are you REALLY from? You don't look/sound/act like [insert nationality/ethnicity/etc].
There are so many layers of familial, cultural, institutional, and societal baggage placed on us that can bury our visions and voices under projections of who we "should" be and where we do/don't belong. At the same time, these intersections in our identities are what make our stories so powerful and compelling. It can also be incredibly healing and liberating to feel seen, heard, and validated for expressing ourselves. This has proven true for me in my artistic practice, and I’d like to support and encourage other underrepresented artists to do the same.