Carved Emotions
How Taisia Lets Instinct Guide Form & Motion Speak the Heart
This one’s personal. Not that the others aren’t, but this one brings me back to when being a designer was only a dream. And right there, in the midst of preparations, drowned in the fear of failure and the fear of new beginnings, I met Taisia. One of the kindest, warmest, most profound people, and a well-entitled artist.
When I was 17, I started preparing to get into UAD (the University of Art and Design from Cluj Napoca), by far the most famous art school in my country. In the same group of big dreamers was Taisia. As lost and yet as hopeful and brave as I was. We clicked instantly, our dreams and ambition becoming the foundation of a friendship that has lasted to this day, more than ten years later. And today, I am proud to interview her and share with you the depth of her soul and the beauty of her art.
Taisia studied painting in the same year as me, juggled with restoration, and between all the hustle, she remarkably made herself noticed in an art scene where the rules had already been written by heavy names such as Marius Bercea. Her technique? Nothing you would expect from the “famous pupils of Cluj’s art school.” Starting with her thesis, Taisia developed a rather industrial approach to creation: her canvas is a raw product, from wood to stone, on which she plays with fire or carves precariously. All of this translates her deep emotions and unique perspective on life, and I can assure you of that, because as her friend I’ve witnessed how her vision and values are as beautiful and complex as your favorite poetry.
Follow Taisia’s journey on her personal Instagram profile @taisiacorbut
And latest artworks on her website
Now let's dive into our conversation:
What are the themes that you approach the most or inspire you to create?
I’ll be somehow vague and maybe less cool. I am a very “feel before you intellectualize” type of artist. It’s like I have a feeling, I am going through my own things and trying to emotionally and rationally process them, and I try to take that mental or emotional fog and bring some clarity while making an image out of it. Sometimes I get inspired by things I see, poetry, people, but it all comes down to how I feel in relation to all that and then make it into an image.
I’d say I get inspired by whatever comes in life, whatever I realize, think, or experience. I think that’s the most relatable thing in life, we all live with emotions regardless of the context that creates them. So it becomes somehow vague and basic, or maybe universal. And then of course, after I process it through art, I get to intellectualize it and make some sort of sense of it.
How do you choose your canvas or technique?
I’ve been doing bas-relief in stone for the past couple of years, and I guess there were a lot of experiences that drew me into that. As you know, I studied painting in university but wasn’t much of a painter, so I needed to find a way out of it, at the time almost justifying myself for not painting in a very classic environment. I started experimenting with things and simultaneously got a job in historical monument restoration, where I was working with a team of sculptors who taught me a lot. Years later the puzzle made sense, and I had this intense idea that I needed to do some etching or bas-relief. I had it on hold for a while but it needed to be done. I don’t really believe in a single medium. For me, it’s more about asking: what type of medium does this work need? And it just happened to be stone in the past years.
What themes or artworks seem to appeal most to the public or buyers? Are their choices surprising to you?
Honestly, I never thought of it, and I think it can be quite dangerous to take that into account. You may end up making things that you think people would like, because there is a human need to be appreciated and understood or even admired, it feeds your artistic ego. However, when I started the stonework I thought it would be very hard to reach people through this medium because it’s a white-on-white image, very sensitive to light, a delicate image that you could easily pass by on your way to seeing that large colorful painting that can be seen from across the room. After a few years I realized that it’s not really like that, some people appreciate the quiet way of saying and feeling something, and it can even be comforting to them.
For someone who has truly fought for her space in the art scene in Romania, what are the do’s or don’ts you can advise to someone at the beginning of this road?
Ok, it may be a bit early in my journey to give advice, but I’ll relate to what worked for me so far:
Experiment as much as possible in the first years and find your thing regardless of what you’re asked to do in school or what is cool or working in the art market.
Work a lot, be consistent, and stay open. I know, I’ve heard it so much that I’m rolling my eyes writing it, but it works. It’s the only thing that keeps things moving in a very competitive field. This way you’re able to develop your own way of doing things and it will be seen.
Be aware of how the market works. And I am not referring to the art-making part, but to what happens once your art leaves the studio. We don’t like to admit it, but once the work is out there, it becomes a business, and I really believe that you need to be aware of how contracts work, how to build relationships, what commissions galleries take, prices, how galleries and representation can help you grow into the market. You can’t really play a game if you refuse to see half of the board.
I only have one don’t:
don’t try to please other people with what you do, don’t try to adapt it so it becomes “sellable,” don’t follow the trendy thing.
If you had to choose one color to represent you at this moment — emotionally, mentally, creatively — what would it be, and why?
First thought: baby pink. It’s weird, because I never liked it, but I think we vibe now. I guess I’m getting used to exposing my softer and more feminine part.