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Nicole Parker

Mount Airy, United States

My work is narrative and symbolic, and explores the triangular relationship between my sense of self, my perception of what "home" means, and the physical spaces that I've occupied throughout my life. My I'magery often involves structures, spaces and objects that represent a personal memory or even a dream, and evoke strong emotions like belonging, loneliness, joy, or fear. I'm often unable to physically visit or revisit the things I'm rendering, so in the studio I work from memory and cobbled references. Although memory is unreliable by nature, I'm interested in the potency of my own sensory memories. Light, color, and sound are always on my mind and at the core of my practice.

Nicole Parker is an oil painter and intaglio printmaker based in Mount Airy, Maryland. She earned her BFA and Certificate from the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts in 2018. Her work has appeared in group exhibitions across the United States, and she recently presented her third solo show, “Folklore,” at Gross McCleaf Gallery in Philadelphia. When not in the studio she enjoys teaching other artists the techniques she has learned and maintains a home studio in a converted attic.

Artist Interview


Q: Your artistic process often involves exploring memory and sensory experiences. How do you approach translating intangible elements like light and sound into your art?


A: All the senses are related and intertwining to me, but color is at the root of it all. Color is so sensory and symbolic, it evokes sound, scent, texture, temperature, taste, etc., and is always the thing that exists first and foremost in my visual memory even when I can’t remember anything else. It’s usually the first thing I decide when I’m building an image. I’ve always had a vivid memory, but ones that stay with me the most and come to mind often have a very distinct color or light environment attached to them.


I remember once lying in the snow at night when I was about 11, looking up at the sky in my front yard and thinking how strange it was that the air was so densely quiet and looked so brown and warm. There’s no real story behind it, but some pressure change or weather event must have created this odd light environment that I can’t get out of my mind. Specific color relationships also make me think of certain events or time periods from my past. I remember my childhood being full of green-gold and purple (I’m probably remembering light through the trees in my backyard in the late afternoons), and when I lived in Philadelphia during college, the whole world was grey, peachy pink, and a rusty red-brown. When I’m making images, most of my time and energy goes into finding the right color relationships that match the memory I’m trying to convey.


Q: "Home" is a recurring theme in your work. How has your perception of "home" evolved over the years, and how is this evolution reflected in your art?


A: When I was little, "home" meant a very specific house filled with specific things and people. My sense of self and belonging was completely rooted to that place. When we left that house in my teen years, it gutted me in a way that I didn’t expect and wasn’t fully conscious of until much later. I’ve lived in different houses since then, some much harder to leave than others. Now I understand that it’s not the physical place itself, it’s who I was and how I felt when I was there. It’s easy to take a meaningful event or feeling and attach it to the location where it happened. I don’t particularly miss my childhood bedroom, but I miss sitting on my bed with my sister looking out the window at night. I don’t quite remember our kitchen layout, but I remember the yellow walls and the sound of splattering oil and my mom’s electric mixer.

Interview
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