PROFILE
Jessica Dorizac’s many-layered paper pieces and the patterns they won’t give away
“My experimentation with shapes and forms has become more intense and layered, reflective of the environment and probably my own mental scape,” the artist says of her geometric works that resist pattern-finding
Interview by by SEPTEMBER GRACE MAHINO Photos by JOSEPH PASCUAL
Interview by by SEPTEMBER GRACE MAHINO
Photos by JOSEPH PASCUAL
Artist Jessica Dorizac was preparing for her return to Brisbane, Australia when we caught up with her for this feature. She hasn’t been home in four years. As she packs for another country, one would hardly suspect the move is happening. For one, she has two ongoing shows: a group show at Project Space Pilipinas, a gallery in Lucban, Quezon run by artist Leslie de Chavez, and a solo show at the cafe/exhibition space in Escolta called The Den. Much like her husband and artist in-laws, Dorizac’s work explores the possibilities of material art, particularly wood in its various forms; raw wood, plywood, wood shavings, along with construction paper, cardboard, and corrugated board.
In both spaces, Dorizac’s works command attention through a cacophony of colors, shapes, and textures; collages, if you may call them, that defy the basic human instinct to seek patterns in the unfamiliar.
Assemblage is not foreign to the artist, who, prior to returning to Australia to finish her degree in fine arts, resided in Los Baños, Laguna. There at the Fruit Juice Factory, with her husband, artist Miguel Aquilizan, her artist in-laws Isabel and Alfredo Aquilizan, and eight dogs, she toyed with the possibilities of materials in art. It is, after all, a family signature, from Isabel and Alfredo’s wings of sickles to Miguel’s wood and metal sculptures, and to Dorizac’s own colorful layers of cutout paper pieces.
In this interview, we talked to the artist after she touched down in the Land Down Under, where she says she’s experiencing a kind of culture shock coming back. She jokes that her Australian accent is gone and that she’s now full Pinay. When asked about plans to return to Laguna, Dorizac says she’ll go back and forth between her two homes. In both spaces, Dorizac’s works command attention through a cacophony of colors, shapes, and textures; collages, if you may call them, that defy the basic human instinct to seek patterns in the unfamiliar.
Assemblage is not foreign to the artist, who, prior to returning to Australia to finish her degree in fine arts, resided in Los Baños, Laguna. There at the Fruit Juice Factory, with her husband, artist Miguel Aquilizan, her artist in-laws Isabel and Alfredo Aquilizan, and eight dogs, she toyed with the possibilities of materials in art. It is, after all, a family signature, from Isabel and Alfredo’s wings of sickles to Miguel’s wood and metal sculptures, and to Dorizac’s own colorful layers of cutout paper pieces.
In this interview, we talked to the artist after she touched down in the Land Down Under, where she says she’s experiencing a kind of culture shock coming back. She jokes that her Australian accent is gone and that she’s now full Pinay. When asked about plans to return to Laguna, Dorizac says she’ll go back and forth between her two homes.
This interview was edited for clarity and brevity.“My experimentation with shapes and forms has become more intense and layered, reflective of the environment and probably my own mental scape, as one turns inwards during isolated periods.”
Dorizac was born in Brisbane, Australia but hasn’t been there in four years. Her body of work is informed by historical and urban decorative patterns and ornaments, especially those found in the architecture in the Philippines.
You were born in Brisbane, Australia, and until recently were based in Los Baños, Laguna. Could you share your journey from Australia to the Philippines? When and under what circumstances did you make your move?
Born and raised in the sunshine state of Australia. Deep in suburbia, amongst the landscape of Queenslander houses and the unique flora and fauna of Australia. My parents are both migrants, my mother from the Philippines and my father from New Zealand (Aotearoa).
Love was the circumstance under which I made the move to the Philippines. I met my husband Miguel in 2015, we wed in 2016, and decided Philippines would be the place where we would begin to build our lives together, working alongside each other. With the support of Miguel’s parents, we were able to make the move in 2018 and have been there since. It’s been a wonderful but challenging journey, learning about contemporary Philippine culture and society, and deepening the relationship with my Pinoy side.
The world is now into its third year of living in a pandemic. Have you noticed a clear demarcation in your creative/artistic process between the “before” and “after” relative to the pandemic? In particular, has the pandemic affected your view of productivity as an artist?
The pandemic marked the end of an era. It gave the opportunity to focus deeply on practice without the distractions of the outside world, which is ironic considering the situation.
My work before and after the pandemic is evidently different through exploration of wood in its various forms; raw wood, plywood, wood shavings, construction paper, cardboard, corrugated board. My experimentation with shapes and forms has become more intense and layered, reflective of the environment and probably my own mental scape, as one turns inwards during isolated periods.
Dorizac was born in Brisbane, Australia but hasn’t been there in four years. Her body of work is informed by historical and urban decorative patterns and ornaments, especially those found in the architecture in the Philippines.
You were born in Brisbane, Australia, and until recently were based in Los Baños, Laguna. Could you share your journey from Australia to the Philippines? When and under what circumstances did you make your move?
Born and raised in the sunshine state of Australia. Deep in suburbia, amongst the landscape of Queenslander houses and the unique flora and fauna of Australia. My parents are both migrants, my mother from the Philippines and my father from New Zealand (Aotearoa).
Love was the circumstance under which I made the move to the Philippines. I met my husband Miguel in 2015, we wed in 2016, and decided Philippines would be the place where we would begin to build our lives together, working alongside each other. With the support of Miguel’s parents, we were able to make the move in 2018 and have been there since. It’s been a wonderful but challenging journey, learning about contemporary Philippine culture and society, and deepening the relationship with my Pinoy side.
The world is now into its third year of living in a pandemic. Have you noticed a clear demarcation in your creative/artistic process between the “before” and “after” relative to the pandemic? In particular, has the pandemic affected your view of productivity as an artist?
The pandemic marked the end of an era. It gave the opportunity to focus deeply on practice without the distractions of the outside world, which is ironic considering the situation.
My work before and after the pandemic is evidently different through exploration of wood in its various forms; raw wood, plywood, wood shavings, construction paper, cardboard, corrugated board. My experimentation with shapes and forms has become more intense and layered, reflective of the environment and probably my own mental scape, as one turns inwards during isolated periods.
“I don’t work from a singular idea; I work from a continuation in practice.”
“Decorative Disposition” is a group show at Project Space Pilipinas, a gallery in Lucban, Quezon run by artist Leslie de Chavez
Your current show at Project Space Pilipinas is part of the art initiative/platform’s celebration of Women’s Month. Could you share the idea behind “Decorative Disposition”? How long did it take for you to create all the pieces that became part of the exhibit?
The works shown in “Decorative Disposition” were made from 2018 through to 2022. They are the totality of my time spent here in the Philippines. Project Space Pilipinas does the necessary work to bring art to the people. Nestled in the small town of Lucban, PSP prides itself on bringing high-quality exhibitions, without the showbiz, to the citizens. Their program for 2022 is dedicated to female artists, cultural workers, and arts professionals. I am very grateful to have been invited to share my work with the support of PSP.
Your art is also on show at The Den. Can you describe as well the idea behind “Assorted Ornaments”?
The title “Assorted Ornaments” is a poke at artworks being purely ornamental.
I don’t work from a singular idea; I work from a continuation in practice. But the choice of words for the title is a [pondering] on artworks purely consumed as ornamental wall pieces. And I do think about that a lot, especially because of the deep relationship the art community has with the art market. “Decorative Disposition” is a group show at Project Space Pilipinas, a gallery in Lucban, Quezon run by artist Leslie de Chavez.
“Patterns and shapes are universal and it’s interesting to see their application over the documented human history, and more interesting to see them in an unexpected arrangement that makes space for new conversations.”
“Evening in Floor Plans”
Paper, wooden frame
68cm x 61cm
2022
On display at The Den in Escolta for “Assorted Ornaments” until April 12 and online at thedenmanila.com“Evening in Floor Plans” | Paper, wooden frame | 68cm x 61cm | 2022
On display at The Den in Escolta for “Assorted Ornaments” until April 12 and online at thedenmanila.comWhat attracts you to using collage and assemblage to express your ideas? Has this been a medium that you’ve always used and been interested in or have there been others that you’ve explored before? In any case, what does the use of this media draw out from you?
I gravitate to collage and assemblage because I enjoy the meditative process of it. The collecting, deconstructing, and organizing.
Your exhibit notes for “Assorted Ornaments” cite your current fascination with historical and urban decorative patterns and ornaments in architecture. Patterns are usually deceptively simplistic regardless of their level of intricacy, meaning they were designed to evoke a sense of reliability and even safety in their predictability. Speaking as someone viewing your pieces, your art, however, bucks that sense of predictability with the layered elements that disrupt the order of the previously set motifs and set off another pattern (though less immediately discernible) on their own. Is that an intentional decision on your part?
It’s both subconscious and conscious; the decisions of the layered elements that disrupt the order of one layer to begin the next. The nature of how I approach my work is quite painterly, many-layered. “I gravitate to collage and assemblage because I enjoy the meditative process of it. The collecting, deconstructing, and organizing,” the artist says.
Given the very human tendency to look for patterns, what do you enjoy (if any) about jolting the audience out of their complacency, at least in the visual sense?
Patterns and shapes are universal and it’s interesting to see their application over the documented human history, and more interesting to see them in an unexpected arrangement that makes space for new conversations.
I am drawn particularly to accidental, painterly compositions found in my immediate environment where various patterns, motifs, colors, textures, and lines are found amongst each other. There is a lot of this play found in the process of interior decoration, too.
As a woman in the arts, how does your womanhood help define or inform your art? And what challenges do you still see women artists face despite their tremendous contribution to the art world, not just in terms of creative output and ideas but also invisible/emotional labor?
I experience life through the lens of being a woman. As I’ve grown into an adult and seen, read, and listened to other women, and their herstory. I’ve realized the first step to protect, defend, and support women is to be active and aware of the many varied challenges that we women face in everyday life, politically, socially, emotionally, spiritually, and professionally. That in itself is invisible labor that we are doing and [I] hope everyone can join us in listening to these conversations.
What can we look forward to from you after your two current exhibits?
I have two upcoming exhibits, one is on April 9 for the Libris Awards: The Australian Artists’ Book Prize exhibition at Artspace Mackay here in Australia. The other will be on April 23 in the Philippines. It’s called “Pilgrimage”, a duo show with Miguel at Modeka in Makati. ●> Part II of III of Nolisoli.ph’s Women’s Month SpecialFor Women’s Month 2022, we interviewed three artists whose works explore the intersection and possibilities of gender and creativity: Marita Ganse on the artistic value of “women’s work;” Jessica Dorizac on juxtaposing forms, layering meaning; and Shireen Seno on mapping the self through filmmaking.
Interview by September Grace Mahino
Cover photography by Joseph Pascual
Creative direction by Nimu Muallam
Art direction by Levenspeil Sangalang