Today we’d like to introduce you to Kristy Battani.
Hi Kristy, thanks for sharing your story with us. To start, maybe you can tell our readers some of your backstory.
Growing up I loved art, but I didn’t actually know any artists. My grandmother was a creative of the pack-rat varietal. I adored spending time in her converted garage that was stuffed to the ceiling with drawing books, paints, patterns, materials, buttons, fabric and yarn, alongside canned goods, hammers, nails and one very large vibrating, fat-reducing machine. Maybe that’s why I still associate making art with a bit of chaos.
I entered college aspiring to be an artist but with no more understanding of what that meant. After graduating with a degree in advertising and still no obvious direction, I took a sharp turn towards a more traditional path —law school— but eight years of practice as an intellectual property litigator left me depleted. Although I was occasionally defending the arts, I wasn’t making any art and I was miserable. Recognizing that I needed to make a change, I met with a family friend who was then the executive director of the High Museum of Art in Atlanta. After telling him I was considering going back to school for a masters in Art History, he asked the single most important question anyone (other than my husband) has ever posed to me: “Do you want to be around art or do you want to make art?” I was dumbfounded by the idea that I could simply choose to make art my profession.
I enrolled in a two-year, boot camp study of Design at Portfolio Center (now Miami Ad School Atlanta) where I was introduced to design visionaries like Walter Gropius, Anni and Joseph Albers, Saul Bass, Paula Scher, and Stefan Sagmeister—creatives who demanded that their art be intelligent as well as beautiful. People don’t believe me, but I worked harder in art school than I did in law school. I learned that every mark, every color, every shape required a reason to be included. Even though the artwork I create now is very complex, I still use that same demanding lens to determine what materials I use, what stays in and what must be edited out.
When we moved to Austin in 2007, I felt brave enough to start making and showing my artwork. The East Austin Studio Tour was an invaluable opportunity that let me share and develop my art practice. From that platform I developed relationships with collectors and art consultants who are still the backbone of my practice today. While the process of making art may be solitary, the business of art is all about relationships.
Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
In the early days, I juggled a solo law practice with a growing art career and family. Austin is one of the few places where I could pull that off. I could say with a straight face: I am an artist. And I am a lawyer. Many, many people in this city have a creative “and.” It is just an extension of the “keep Austin weird” vibe.
Any time you make a transition, doubt creeps in. With art, the inner critic is a constant nemesis and imposter syndrome is real. I don’t think you ever really outgrow it; you just learn to notice it and name it for what it is, knowing that it is neither real nor predictive of any outcome. Even with that knowledge, some days those negative thoughts are hard to resist. I find journaling very helpful. Looking back at my written thoughts, I can better see the thought patterns, both positive and negative.
Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
I am a visual artist, creating textile-inspired abstract narratives from vintage print materials.
Through the years, my work has evolved from the occasional use of materials for texture to being fully created of the source materials. The materials that most interest me are so mundane that people rarely keep them, let alone consider them worthy of including in fine art. They are the books, diaries, magazines and manuals we have used for guidance, record-keeping, notes and ideas. The very best ones are dog-eared, highlighted or filled with personal notations, in other words, they represent a human life.
I begin each piece by deconstructing a single source material so that I no longer see it in the form it was originally presented. I look for repeating forms, images, colors and ideas that will form the basis of the artwork. As I start to build the layers of the artwork the process is less an act of collage as a re-weaving of the original source material in a form that allows the viewer to interact with the ideas contained in those materials in a new way.
Although the majority of my work is abstract, I am particularly excited about a growing body of representational work that highlights the contributions of uncelebrated women mavericks. Each “leading lady” is made from layers of print materials that reflect her contribution to her field. I love the rabbit hole of searching for new women to highlight and deciding what source materials will best help tell their stories.
Is there any advice you’d like to share with our readers who might just be starting out?
Lean into your “wonkiness.” The thing that makes you “odd” is the thing that will fuel your success.
If your gut is excited about something, even if it seems a bit ludicrous, trust that feeling. Don’t overanalyze it. Just start doing it and see where it leads you. You probably won’t land where you expected, but often the outcome is far better than you could have imagined.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.kristybattani.com/
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kristybattaniart/
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kristybattaniart/
- LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/kristy-darnell-battani/
- Other: https://substack.com/@kristybattani
