Born in the desert of the Okanagan, Stephanie is an artist who is guided by dreams, intuition, wild creatures, and the stories that come from all of them. Working in a range of mediums, from acrylic paint to video, collage, and illustration, Stephanie uses beauty as a doorway into more difficult topics of connection and loss, ecological grief, and vulnerability. Informed deeply by the landscape around her, its voices, colors, and shapes, Stephanie often takes multiple week immersion trips into the wilderness for new inspiration, stories, and transformative experiences to create work from.
Having had many solo exhibitions within the West Kootenay region of British Columbia since she began to root herself there in 2009, Stephanie’s most notable solo exhibition, Re-Wilding: fire starter, has been exhibited at Oxygen Art Centre in 2018, and at Gallery2 in Grand Forks in 2019. She’s also created murals for the Nelson International Mural Festival, ArtsWells Festival of All Things Art, in Wells, BC; the Re-Imagine Street Art Festival in Penticton, BC (twice); downtown Winlaw, BC, as well as sculptural installations at Shambhala Music Festival and Burning Man. Although she completed a Diploma in Fine Arts at Okanagan University of British Columbia in 2003, and then a subsequent Degree in Art History at the University of Victoria in 2008, Stephanie is primarily a self-taught painter. She is also a lover of strong winds, expansive vistas, and the smell of burning pine and sage.
I think my first creative memory was drawing with a crayon on my wall. I was three or four, it was in the summer and light out but past my bedtime. I was trying to draw in such a way that my blankets would cover it even when my bed was made. After Mom put me to bed, I would stealthily get out all my colours.
Ya she did. I grew up with a single mom and I’m sure she knew a lot of stuff that I thought I was sneaky about. I definitely got in trouble for drawing on the walls numerous times.
I think so. Later on Mom let me paint some of the walls, and those murals still exist in the house that she still lives in.
I was born in Kamloops but I grew up in the desert of Penticton until I went away to college.
I went to OUBC for Fine Arts. They had just finished the new studios at the North Kelowna campus and I thought I would try it out. I had a great time! I didn’t get much sleep though, nor did I do much painting. I studied video editing and photography. After I completed my Diploma, I did a few years of travelling and then ended up at UVIC in 2006 to finish my degree in art history.
While I was studying art history, I fell in love with a few creatives and their stories. They often had sojourns into the wilderness to paint or write. I had come through the Kootenays to visit a few times and I thought it would be romantic to spend a winter in a cabin and teach myself to paint. I finally did that in the winter of 2009. I had my truck packed with everything that I owned. I had been landscaping and teaching yoga for a few years before, and my world was primarily physical and practical. While I was driving from Victoria to the Kootenays though, I got rear ended and lost a good deal of my mobility for the next six months. It created this fork in the road. I couldn’t go back to those physical vocations, at least not right away. I was like “Ok, well, painting has to work then.” And it did! It’s been carrying me ever since. I feel incredibly grateful for that injury actually, and for the incredibly supportive community of the Slocan Valley where I lived for my first eight years in the Kootenays. The Slocan gave me a connection to the rural and the wild. It gave me an appreciation for deep listening which I carry with me. Living there inspired me to start painting landscapes.
The wolf and caribou populations in the Selkirk Mountains are a big topic lately. There’s controversy around culling wolves in an attempt to stabilize the cariboo population (even though human activity is what creates pathways for wolves to get into the subalpine in the winter). I use silhouettes of wildflowers and some invasive species in the mural as well. All of these species live here in these mountains. The mountains are part of them. We place all our ideas on them; things to be saved, things to be killed, things to be controlled when really they just need to be able to exist in their home here. Depending on where you are standing, the mural can offer different perspectives; you can see one or the other or both. You can see this individual creature in a landscape, or you can see its relationship to its family and each other.
I usually start with a background colour or with a specific shape or emotion. I add in imagery and graphic elements from there. I take a lot of time to listen to the piece, and see what it’s asking for – it’s a really magical process that I totally dig. This mural was a bit different because I started with the 3-sided shape of the building, and looked at how the architecture could be an ally in the conversation I wanted to generate about the caribou. I made the design from there.
I do. Over the years it’s gotten a lot easier to be watched, and I love the interactions with the public.
I love Emily Carr and Ana Mendiete, and Frida of course. Those artists who could really pick up on the feeling of a place or experience, and translate it. Women like that are really inspiring to me because although women are quite cued into emotional and transformative processes, we aren’t always encouraged to indulge them. I really like to weave that indulgence into my work.
To let a place or an experience shape you. To not be so static in the idea of the work but change with the changes. My work has continually changed through the years, it’s hard to solidify it.
At first I needed to develop a wider range of skills. I did everything from logo design to murals and grant writing. I threw my own art exhibits. My partner is a DJ and a writer so he DJs my art openings and it’ll turn into an all night dance party. Currently we’re working on a collaborative book of his short stories that I’ve illustrated. Diversity is really a thing that you develop in the rural. You get the luxury of honing in on a specific style or a specific skill set right away in the city. I feel like I’m just on the edge of that now.
Never say never. Everything you say you’ll never do, you usually end up doing, and you end up loving it.
Always move towards an edge of discomfort because that’s where growth happens.
Don’t get too upset about the immediate future. With art, there’s a lot of ebb and flow, a lot of feast and famine. You just gotta take the long view. There’s a general incline for most people who can make it through the first ten years. But that first ten years is often grueling. Artists often feel unseen or unappreciated, and sometimes you’re not sure what you’re doing, but you have to just keep doing it.
Oso is great. I love El Taco, Red Light Ramen, and the Cantina – the food and staff are so great at all of them.
Right now, I am working on a grant project that is the illustrating of a journal I kept while out on a wilderness trip. I’m hoping to have that completed by November of this year. I’m also starting another large body of work that will be exhibited at the Kootenay Art Gallery in 2020,based off of two trips to the Yukon. A few commissions and some paintings for a show at Red Light Ramen in April of 2019 will happen in there too. I’m also excited to be partnering with WildSight at the beginning of November. Stay tuned for that.
In the meantime, you can find prints of my artwork at Touchstone’s Gift Shop and Gaia Rising in Nelson, Rambling Rose’s Treasure Shop in Winlaw, Kootenay Gateway in Rossland, Prima Materia in Nakusp, and online at my shop
Murals are public. They’re for the people. I like art to be accessible and emotive, and I like art that has a deeper meaning, a shared experience. The mural viewer is whoever happens to walk by, and I like the thought of how diverse that conversation could be. Murals also have a dialogue with time, and you can revisit them over the years.