Brian Slattery Photos
The art on the walls of Claire’s Corner Copia, on the corner of Chapel and College, thrums with energy, vibrant colors, and shimmering textures. But there’s a heaviness there, too.
Neither simply joyful nor simply sorrowful, the work of New Haven-based artist Shaunda Holloway uses old motifs in new ways; it reaches back in order to move forward, with strength and resolve, mindful of the sorrows of the past but hopeful for the future.
Holloway’s pieces are the latest to be exhibited as part of an artist-in-residence program at Claire’s.
As friends and fellow artists dropped by on Thursday to have a snack or dinner and offer congratulations, Holloway had a chance to revisit how her artistic practice has developed in the past decade, and in what new directions it may point.
Holloway has exhibited work in the restaurant before and said that the restaurant had called her to ask if she would like to exhibit again. “‘Are you interested?’ they said. I said, ‘of course!” Holloway reported.
Holloway was grateful for the opportunity. “Claire’s is one place I feel safe in,” Holloway said, noting the spaced-out layout of the tables and the restaurant’s continued attention to the pandemic regarding masks and air purification. More generally, Claire Criscuolo, the restaurant’s chef and co-founder, is “always supportive of artists and my work,” Holloway said. “She believes in other people…. I’ve been coming here since I was a child, and I ate dinner here with my father as an adult.”
Shaunda Holloway
These Four Women.
The pieces in the show represent an over 10-year span in Holloway’s art making; the oldest piece in the show dates from 2010, and the newest one from last year.
Holloway is a painter and printmaker, employing both to create her pieces. Printing, however, requires a press. “In 2010 I couldn’t imagine having my own press,” she said while looking at the oldest piece in the show, which she made on equipment at Creative Arts Workshop. But as she continued to develop as an artist, “I knew that once I got my own press, things were going to change.” In 2019, she said, she finally got her shot. She and a fellow artist visited a third artist’s studio that had a printing press in it.
“I said, ‘nice press,’” Holloway recalled, and “she said, ‘do you want it?’”
Holloway did want it. So did the friend who had come to the studio with her. “If you don’t get it, I’m getting it,” Holloway recalled saying to her. The friend relented, and shortly thereafter Holloway made an appointment to revisit the studio and claim her purchase. “I had a bunch of teenagers come with me — teenagers and young men — to pick it up,” she said. “It was probably the most expensive thing I’ve ever bought. I’ve never owned a car.” The press, she said, “is my vehicle to express myself.”
Having the press in her apartment, Holloway said, expanded the possibilities for her art making. “What I thought about at midnight, I could not produce before,” Holloway said. “Now I can work at any hour of the night.”
She also felt that, with practice, she has been able to hone and focus her craft to better convey the feelings and messages she wants to convey. “It’s branding itself,” she said of her work over the past few years. “People say they go into restaurants and recognize my work,” she said humbly. “I feel a sense of longevity and history in the pieces, a sense of dignity.”
The feelings Holloway expresses in her art have helped her get through the pandemic. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my moments,” she said, but “I was determined to be as uplifted as possible, despite all the losses.” She recalled thinking to herself at the beginning of the shutdown, “what are you going to do? You have oxygen to breathe. Are you going to use it to be scared, or are you going to persevere?” It was about “empathy, resilience, and survival…. I wanted to, somehow or another, have my work help to keep people having something to look forward to.” Two exhibitions at CAW, as part of its Made Visible series, followed — one of her own work, and one that she curated. She relished the chances to continue connecting with the community around her.
“We might be down right now, but we’re not out,” she said.
As the shutdown restrictions loosen and places begin to reopen, it was possible to begin adopting a frame of mind that hopefully put the worst of the pandemic in the past tense. “I hope this is the last pandemic I or anyone else sees,” Holloway said. But “art has always been an anchor in life,” as it was before Covid-19 struck and will be again. It has taught Holloway something about learning to adapt. “As humans we have to be like water,” she said, “be as fluid as possible — go around, under, in between.”
Looking at the pieces on the walls at Claire’s, Holloway noted that her work has begun to use more photography — hinting at a new direction she might like to explore in the near future.
“I have a burgeoning interest in film,” she said, as a media that would let her unite her visual art and her writing. It also would allow her to turn her attention more directly to people around her. She recalled recently striking up a conversation with a man who had asked her if she could spare some change, “I started to ask him about his life,” she said, “I asked him, ‘if there’s something in your life you could do differently, what would you do?” He answered her: “Carpentry. I love wood.”
“He was clearly in distress,” Holloway said, but “I could relate” to his answer. “I love wood” too, she said.
Moving into film, she said, would let her “ask people their stories” and “allow people to tell their stories.” She recently received encouragement from a relative who works in film to explore this new path. “Sometimes you have to move forward and take a chance,” she said. “I’m going to walk to the center of the tightrope and just do it.”
