"Expulsion," oil on canvas, 36" x 42."
I met Denise Monaghan in 2012 when she and I, and our daughters serendipitously became fast friends. Denise dedicates her art to the environment, and the animals and creatures she loves. She has made a conscious choice to devote the weight of her art to the haunting, emotional journey of extinction, a topic the majority of the population are too busy to contemplate on a daily basis. Contact Denise at [email protected]
Denise with her daughter Anna Kaufman, and our daughter Ming Fen Congdon, playing in the snow in 2013.
Denise with her parents, Beverly and George.
What was your childhood like, where would we find young Denise as a child? Were your parent's supportive of your love of art?
My childhood was lonesome. I was an only child and a creative one who didn't fit in, nor have many friends. Animals and my imagination filled up the days in ways that made me feel alive and connected. Most likely, you would find me roaming near fields and streams, any green space, I came upon in those days. My favorite place was my mom's childhood family farm in central Missouri. We lived in St. Louis and drove there nearly every weekend. Although I suffered greatly from allergies and poison ivy, it didn't matter because it was the one place I felt free.
A portrait of twenty-year-old Denise.
Mother's family farm in central Missouri.
The family home in St. Louis, where Denise lived until 5th grade.
What was your training? Were their teachers or mentors in life that influenced you?
My parents were generally tolerant of my peculiarities, though they weren't necessarily supportive. I was like a wild animal; they barely kept track of me. When I decided on art school, as the only place I could survive, they fought my decision. My dad was especially dubious. Although I was a good student, I had a lot of trouble with math and didn't get any help, so I assumed something was wrong with my faculties. I didn't think I could handle regular college, and so I took my refuge in the high school art department. All of my teachers made me feel like I was home. I naturally gravitated to making things.
Baiji River Dolphin, oil on canvas, 32" x 72."
What about art compels you, and delivers the highest satisfaction?
Mentally, I find myself easily distracted, flitting around from thing to thing. I go off track often, following my wanderlust. Art is helpful as a meditative process, helping me focus and be still. When I get into the flow, time melts away.
Bluefin Tuna, oil and silver leaf on canvas, 36" x 72."
What is your process for composing a canvas? How do you structure studio time? Are you someone who tolerates interruption?
I am not good at being super organized and therefore try to give myself a general idea of how I will proceed with painting. Though this hasn't always worked out for me, as I've learned over the years, it doesn't necessarily save time not having a plan in place, so now I try to plan a bit more. I use mostly my photo references and sometimes collage as a way of placing elements. My time is not structured, as having a family disrupts that sometimes there is laundry, and then there is dinner and everyday tasks that get in the way. It's difficult getting in the flow when you know someone needs you. My studio space is good because it is separated from the main house, giving me a bit of protection from interruption, but even then, I interrupt myself, especially in between paintings.
Constellation, oil on canvas, 36" x 72."
What is your experience of being a female artist? How do you comprehend the rise in feminism brought on by the "me too" movement?
I don't consider myself a female artist any more than most men believe themselves to be male artists. However, it does seem to be a factor in how other's may see me, and I learned early on in art school, sexism abounds. Art history is a boy's club, and it still is. So much art is about ownership and appropriation of women's bodies when women aren't idealized or objectified that is where my true love lies. Male artists like Rembrandt, Vermeer, Manet, Courbet, Freud, and Goya (to name a few) seem to ground their female figures in fleshy reality and tenderness. Of course, the mythological depictions of ancient stories also ring truthful in other ways. Ancient Greek, northwest coast Tribal art and Indian art also appeal to me. I take my inspiration from a deep well.
Toughie, oil and gold leaf on hardboard, 12" x 16" (The last of the Rabbs tree frog).
What do you hope to impart to the viewer when they see a portrait of an endangered or extinct creature?
I hope to convey a deep and abiding love for our fellow travelers. Animals are not different than we are, they feel love, anger, and excitement as we do. They are as worthy of painting as any human. They are us, and we are them. We are all in this together. Killing off a species is killing off ourselves.
Ishi, last man, oil and gold leaf on hardboard, 18" x 18."
What are your metaphysical beliefs, and how have they evolved?
I have a pantheist point of view, in that I believe we are all connected and everything carries divinity within, even things inanimate. "The nitrogen in our DNA, the calcium in our teeth, the iron in our blood, the carbon in our apple pies were made in the interiors of collapsing stars. We are made of starstuff."—Carl Sagan. I subscribe to his sentiments. For me religion is not inside walls, but out in the fields and forests. I read a lot of ecological works. In high school, Rachel Carson, who I adore for her fierce love for the planet, started me on my way. Her Silent Spring was a seminal work. Then other heavy hitters followed: David Abram, Derrick Jensen, and John Trudell to name three contemporary writers. The people who fight to save our world, through writing, song and direct action.
Denise has always loved photography.
Who are your art gods from any period or genre?
It changes. In high school, I was in love with the Mexican muralists because of their social justice slant. I also loved Rousseau's naive art and Paul Gauguin's Tahitian works. Nowadays, it's a big mixed bag of love. At the moment, I'm looking at Jamie Wyeth, Jenna Barton, Leah Chapman, Lisa Grossman, Jeremy Miranda, Anders Zorn, John Caple, and Barry Moser. So many great artists out there to inspire!
Eyewitness Series—
Elephant Eye, oil on maple board, 6" x 6."
Buffalo Eye, oil on maple board, 6" x 6."
Cat Eye, oil on maple board, 6" x 6."
Crab Stalk Eyes, oil on maple board, 6" x 6."
Orangutan Eye, oil on maple board, 6" x 6."
Rabbit Eye, oil on maple board, 6" x 6."
Icelandic Horse Eye, oil on maple board, 6" x 6."
Animals play a major role in both your world and art, was there a critical turning point when their stories became your fueling passion?
Actually, in the beginning, I drew animals exclusively. Then in art school, I lost my way. At the time I went to college in the late 70s, conceptual art was all the rage, so I was like a fish out of water. I became an abstract artist to survive, but my abstraction was all based on electron microscopy imagery, so it had a basis in reality. Gradually, I started realizing that all my favorite artwork had elements of both abstraction and truth and that there was a map already laid out by the ancients on how to paint. It was archaic, but a valuable guide.
The studio in Pasadena, California.
Often when I think of you, I see you riding solo into the outskirts of L.A's light-filled harsh landscape with Boris at your side! What do you contemplate when removed from the hustle and bustle? Do you compose canvases out in the open? Is this where you finally breathe?
I need open spaces to quiet my mind. Just like the studio does, being in nature steadies me. Riding a horse is all about being in the moment, and that is where I like to be.
Denise and her silver-dappled Icelandic horse, Fokus.
It's far easier to paint "pretty" non-controversial subjects, but you've chosen a silent battle with greed and hubris. Despite the gravitas, and urgency of our environmental plight, your canvases embody compassion, and I venture, a degree of optimism, as you are productive. What does it mean to look into the eyes of a creature the world no longer knows, or one humanity has treated unjustly? And how has it affected your philosophy and your politics?
Pretty is in the eye of the beholder. What one person thinks of as pretty, another may find a vacuous facade. I like to feel things in more than one dimension, and that includes what some might think of as ugly. I will forever hold a space in my heart for creatures (including humans) who have to reckon with our sick greed. We are all caught up in this web, and those who try to untangle themselves are the ones who give me courage and determination. We can repair the damage, but it will take a lot of letting go. We cannot continue along the trajectory. We are as vulnerable to extinction as any animal, fish, or plant, and when we rape the planet, we rape ourselves. We are in it together.
Munin in the Moonlight, egg tempera, and oil on hardboard, 10" x 10."
Memory Cows, oil on board.
What advice do you have for aspiring young female artists?
Art is long; life is short. Don't let anyone take away what is rightfully yours. Remember who you are.