The Studio Is Where the Soul Is

I can live without a home and a bedroom a kitchen and a bathroom, but not without a studio. That is my literal and current truth.

For one month now I have been traveling 2 hours a day, back and forth from Washington Heights where my mother in law lives to East Harlem where my husband and I bought a building 20 years ago. Where our son was born and grew. Where all my most productive years have happened, and all my studios in that time have been.

This is not a tragic story, just something that happens to building owners sometimes. The oldest building's certificate of occupancy does not match the current structure (the building was sold to us with a different description,) so we have to make it match according to the two city agencies involved. A long and expensive process, but unavoidable.

The good news is we are alive and healthy and hopeful that we will be able to make the necessary changes so that our building can be our home again or at least our business again.

The one thing that has made the process bearable is being able to keep my studio space. I will have to pack it too at some point this year, and I am not looking forward to that. But I have no choice.

Among other things, this process has taught me how little I really need. I miss having my own place, but I don't miss having an apartment full of stuff. I am fine with living off a suitcase and suspect that when I am finally able to unpack the 100 boxes we had to pack, there will be a lot of donations taking place. And that is liberating.

But the one thing I cannot live without is my workspace. That is the place where I think, breath, exist at my most real. And when I lose that, I need to have a plan in place because my mind might not be able to take it ;)

So to begin the year strong and to have a reason to move forward, I am spending as long as necessary planning a great year. I am building myself a map that will show me where to go and what to do when I feel lost.

I have been living my dream for so many years that facing the possibility of having to find a "real job" is very scary and frustrating. So by having a plan for art, a survival plan to stay afloat, I hope to be able to save the "job" I have been doing for so long even if I have to take a different road for a while.

While I am not looking forward to taking the bus tomorrow with the snowstorm that is going on outside, I am looking forward to making this a great year for my work. That is my greatest intention and I will be working non-stop to make it my reality.

When I don't have a studio: I can do these tiny abstract paintings made with love, peace and joy to carry close to your heart. This one has amethyst beads and an adjustable leather necklace.

Have you seen my Magical Medallions? See some examples here: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10154858033932181.1073741854.689597180&type=1&l=e4156189a8

Mary Magdalene of the Roses is Back At Home

Mary Magdalene of the Roses, by Tanya Torres, Oil on Canvas, 60" x 40", 2010.

A few months ago, I received a call from a friend letting me know that Holy Rosary Church in East Harlem would be closing. This made me very sad, for many reasons, including that I didn't know what would happen to the painting Mary Magdalene of the Roses.

I had some time ago read about what happens to art when churches in New York City close, and for this reason I had asked my friend there to let me know if they finally decided to close the church. The Archdiocese of New York had been trying to close Holy Rosary for several years now, but the congregation was not happy about it. Many of them had attended that church their entire lives, and it held a lot of history and memories. I had only met my friends there a few years ago, but it hurt a great deal to learn the bad news. I was also afraid this painting would end up in a moldy basement. But thanks to my beloved friend, it is now safe at home.

Several people had asked over the years if they could purchase it, but it was something I made for Holy Rosary, and I was really happy that it was there. It was really sad news to hear the church would be closing, since I got to meet and love the people there, especially the group of ladies who nourished my soul with their love and kind words over the years. At Holy Rosary, I created and taught art, repaired saints, created poetry, helped paint the church, helped decorate the Santo Niño de Cebú shrine, and above all benefitted from the love of a community that didn't know me or expect anything from me. This was enormously healing.

But one day, the old priests were sent back to Spain (they were very old and in bad health), and a new pair of priests were borrowed from nearby Our Lady of Mount Carmel. They were not happy to be there, and it showed.

No more poetry, no more art. The environment got transformed so rudely and so suddenly that I could no longer get myself to show up. And I wondered what would happen to the painting, and If I would be able to smuggle it out of the building.

I had "donated" it, but no papers were signed, so it was technically mine. I didn't want to steel it back! But since nobody trusted the new management, I had to go with my intuition and as soon as my friend called, I was there to get it. My husband Juan and I covered it in black plastic bags and smuggled it out in the middle of the day from the dark church basement. The upper church had been closed for years now, and mass takes place in the lower level, which also means nobody was there to stop me.

I think the right place for it would be at another church. For now it is in my new studio at home, where the old Mixta Gallery used to be. And I am glad, because it is one of my favorites. If you would like to visit and see it in person, let me know! I will make you tea! (Remember "Tea with Tanya"? Coming back very soon…!) And if you know of a good, appropriate, responsible, respectful and loving spiritual place for it, also let me know!

But back to the painting. It also can be attributed a little miracle.

When I was getting ready to draw the canvas, I wanted to buy yellow roses to draw. But I looked all over my neighborhood, and no yellow roses were available.

When I first stepped into Holy Rosary for the funeral of my friend's mother, I had met a woman there who became my friend, someone who, together with the priest (who read the poem I wrote in honor my friend's mother during the mass, and who is also a poet), she and he held my hands and asked me if I could help them bring poetry to the church.

I grew up with a mix of Catholicism and Socialism, and for most of my life, I tried to stay away from churches, but at this point in my life, I could not say no to such a request. The Magdalene had brought me there, and I had to follow through.

For several years I created a poetry publication to publish in the church bulletin. Most of my Heaven and Earth drawings came out of that work.

But that was not the miracle. I looked and looked for yellow roses, and nothing. That same weekend the woman, Judy, visited me, and brought me a gift: very fresh, very beautiful, Yellow Roses. And she had no idea I was looking for yellow roses!

The roses lasted long enough to draw and paint them. And they live on in this images of Mary Magdalene, Our Lady of Lexington Avenue.

***

Here is the poem that began this adventure:

I Was

I was a woman,

who loved.

Now I am love.

I was a woman,

who looked up to the sky, and wished to fly.

Now I am flight.

I was a mother,

and today I am creation.

I was voice, warmth

and the resounding flow of blood

within the borders of my body.

Now I am silence that rests

in the coming and going

of my beloved hearts.

I was that which reflected a shadow,

Now, I am intense light,

in the infinite space of my being.

I was a limit in time,

but today, wholeness embraces me, 

and I embrace wholeness.

I was many things that come to an end.

Now I am infinite eternity,

Within each new and small sprouting of life.

I still am who I always have been.

Song of the Magdalene: Mary Magdalene of the Roses

Mary Magdalene of the Roses, 40" x 60", Oil on Canvas, 2010. Formerly at Holy Rosary Church (now closed) in East Harlem. Now back in my home.

In 2007, I decided to change my life. I accepted a mural commission that providentially was offered to me when I made this decision, and ever since I have been a full time artist, even if this sometimes means having the greatest faith imaginable that all will be well and that my ability to survive, as well as retain my integrity as an artist, will be long-lasting. One of the reasons I made this decision was that I wanted to paint Magdalenes, and see them within the context of the larger world outside my studio. I wanted one of my Mary Magdalenes to be in a church.

In 2009, I attended a Catholic funeral mass for my friend's mother. I had written a poem for my friend and her mom as a way to express my condolences, and they were going to read it in the mass, so she invited me to attend. I had already spent more than a year visiting churches and spiritual centers "by chance", but I had not even once gone into a Catholic church, the church of my childhood, where my grandmother would take me every Sunday. Just the week before I had had an experience that indicated that I should go to a Catholic church, so receiving the invitation to the funeral mass was, well, opportune. I was there early enough to find a place to seat in the tiny and crowded chapel. The priest said that we should begin by reading the poem. And he did, and he continued with the mass, and continued with the poem as well. In fact, he kept interrupting the mass to read verses, and I wanted to hide under the rug because he kept asking me to come to bring poetry to the Church. Dios mío, that must have been one of the most embarrassing moments of my life, and you can't really lie to a priest during Mass! But how do you say no?! He waited for me at the end of the mass, held my hand, and took me to his office, where he an his friend Judy convinced me to help them out...

The story continues, but the point is that this is how my wish of having a Magdalene in a church came to be. Father Gilbert and I became good friends, and I met all the Puerto Rican ladies who take care of the church. They kind of immediately adopted me. I adopted them too. I began L.I.F.E., Art and Letters, and this Magdalene, the biggest painting I have ever painted.

Because it was always meant to be in a church, this Magdalene holds the customary alabaster jar and has no Vesica Venus... It also brings together all the other elements I strive for: the iconic face; the color red in all its shades; the great bright yellow halo that could be the Sun or the light of the Christ; the flowing folds of the dress like a river of passion that envelops the Magdalene; the dove of the Holy Spirit always near her, Sophia present in her presence; just a little bit of darkness under the dress. And yellow roses. For this one, I wanted yellow roses.

One of Raquel's songs in her CD Las 7 Salves de La Magdalena mentions "Yellow flowers for the Magdalene". I believe in her prophetic vision, and in being a faithful contributor to our mythology in the works, so I wanted to give the Magdalene yellow roses. I went to all the flower shops in my neighborhood and beyond, looking for affordable yellow roses. I could not find any, so I went home empty handed. Soon, however, Judy, the woman I met at Father Gilbert's office the day he kidnapped me, came to visit me with a gift: a big bunch of yellow roses. I had not told her I needed yellow roses! Does this qualify as a miracle?

The roses lasted long enough for me to paint them, actually, longer than any bunch of roses I have ever held in my hands. I had never painted roses, but drawing and painting have one trick that, if you learn it, helps you paint anything: seeing in terms of value and shape. You need to stop looking at a rose as a rose, and just see the lightness and darkness, the shape, the lines that make up the shapes. The roses came out pretty well!

I am very partial to this Magdalene. It might be because it took more than six months to paint it and because I worked and reworked it until it was time to let her go. She is now a bright presence in a very depressed environment. The material poverty of my neighborhood reflects itself faithfully in this church. So my Mary Magdalene is there and I think she is telling all of us to brighten up! Life is beautiful! Roses have thorns, and last such a short time, but would we want to stop loving and enjoying them just because of that?

***

If you would like to commission a Magdalene, Email me!

For reproductions or greeting cards, visit my store!