Jenny Sharaf | Defying Definition

Our social i.e. parasocial structures have become strictly and dreadfully disconnected, stripping our souls bare of connection to render humankind conducive for productivity. A moment hardly lingers before it can be snapped and commodified. Commercialization absconded with the process of creation, cultivating a coldness where there was once kinship. With the flourish of titular-cool-girl nonchalance and a rebellious commitment to kindness, Jenny Sharaf is painting over our jaded humanity in favor of a livelier, more convivial canvas. The Los Angeles-born artist aims to stop glorifying blasé (“Don’t you think it’s weird it became cool to not remember someone? Maybe we lost manners….”), and to evoke elation when looking upon her multifaceted work, which comprises a brilliant collection of cross-medium artistry, which veers into fashion (Sharaf humbly touts collaborations with industry titans including Nike and The North Face). Reserved sits down with the wunderkind to pick her vibrant brain. 

RM: Take us on the journey that brought you here today, an established artist with a recognizable signature, who has amassed a dedicated clientele.  

JS: I wanted to be an artist from when I was little. My parents encouraged it, maybe subconsciously. They mostly left me alone, and a painting class cost the same as a babysitter, so that may have influenced things unintentionally. In the 4th grade, I began to oil paint. I was always involved in different mediums: painting, drawing, video. I went to a graduate program at Mills, in Northern California, which sadly doesn’t exist any longer. There, they didn’t make you pick a concentration. You’re there to explore and it’s encouraged. I mostly did video and print making the majority of my time in the program. My last semester at Mills, I began painting more frequently, and have hardly stopped. It feels like you can do anything. Upon graduating, they trick you into thinking that’s the moment you enter the art industry. 

RM: You are remarkably multitalented. Is there a certain medium you gravitate toward most? Does one inspire the others, or do they blend into each other?

JS: I feel like different mediums feed different parts of your artistic soul. Painting is a quiet practice for me. I’d only do it by myself. I’m consumed by the process when I’m in the studio. It’s not results-based. Rather, it’s an everywhere space: time doesn’t exist.

Contrary to that practice, I’m very social, so I use art in that way. Recently, I’ve been getting into photography and taking portraits. I love that photography enables me to reach out to strangers and have a reason to talk to someone. Like this chat we’re having now— I’ve become really interested in conversation or connection with intention given the current state of our world. Things can feel very transactional. 

RM: Arguably, our current culture is the one of the most tumultuous we’ve lived through yet. Is there an overarching message you aim to convey through your work? Does it differ, depending on climate?

JS: As artists swimming through culture, I feel it’s our responsibility to try to get away with as much as we can. Do the dance. Don’t fit into a box. Don’t get overly defined.

Because my work, my paintings especially, adhere to this very physical, singular, and individualized process, I would say the flow of that creation does guide itself. One piece leads into another.

When I began showing my paintings, people were immediately niche-fying me. My early work is colorful. People would dub them psychedelics. I’d never take psychedelics and paint— or, at least, I haven’t yet. There are elements of counterculture in all of my work, sure. I think it’s beautiful people can find different things in there that I may not have intended in the first place.

RM: What does your creative process look like physically?

JS: Most of my paintings are single session paintings. I don’t like the idea of abandoning a painting in the studio overnight, coming back to it, and hacking away at the same thing. You get obsessed with it. I appreciate letting the painting live as a choreographed session. One does lead to the next. It haunts you in a different way than if you were to continue with it for extended time. You reflect that moment in that sole piece. There’s a lot tied up in it.

RM: What inspires your work? People, places, things, the moment?

JS: I’ll paint when I’m truly inspired and happy. It comes through as a recorded work in that way. I try to not paint in a bad mood. That’s why I pick up so many other practices and mediums— in between the paint drying.

Inspiration is hard to articulate. It comes from everywhere— subconscious and conscious. I’m lucky I get to paint right now in this lone studio. It’s in a barn in a field where you can see the ocean. Here, inspiration is all around. 

Seeing great art feeds my soul and my practice. Usually dead people. I travel a lot too. I’ll visit paintings at the Pompidou. I feel they’re guiding me. 

RM: What does the future look like for you? Is there a plan, a grander scheme? Or are you looking to see where the tide takes you?

JS: The grander scheme is to just be happy, right? To make art as much as I can, that’s the grander scheme. Being specific, I love working with oil pastels and paint sticks. I’m bringing a paint brush back. It’s an important practice the paint brush encourages: having an idea where you think you know what you’re doing, then letting intuition take over. That is definitely a metaphor.

I want to push my photography practice. It’s a really weird time to take pictures. It makes everyone go commercial, whether to make money or for exposure. It’s an interesting space to navigate as an artist specifically. It’s hitting a lot of interesting corners for me, and I want to see where those lead.

Written by Delaney Willet 

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