Anna Abramzon (photo by Michelle Fielecan Photography)
Anna Abramzon is a visual artist based in California. She is known for her figurative expressionist paintings as well as her unique style of Judaica and ketubah art. Her work has been shown in Chicago, New York, Miami, St. Paul, Houston, Connecticut, Oakland, Jerusalem, Tel Aviv, and Haifa. She has a BFA from The School of the Art Institute of Chicago. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband and two daughters.
I met Anna by absolute chance. It was one Facebook group or another, I think. I don’t remember what it was we were bonding over, but it took me all but a couple of minutes of exploring her art online to fall in love. It’s rare that I am moved by a painting (I’m more of a performance art girl), but a few pieces in Anna’s most recent collection had me gutted in the most delightful of ways. I knew I needed one particular piece on my wall and even attempted to buy it. Of course, I was both too slow and too poor to get my hands on it, but I was lucky to get a limited edition print, instead. It’s like the image came from inside my mind by way of a different artist. The muse never reveals her trade secrets. Regardless, the feeling is indescribable. After corresponding a bit, Anna and I quickly realized that we share quite a bit in common and it’s the sweetest thing, if only a little eerie. Our experiences as children immigrants were very similar and left us both similarly scarred, though not necessarily negatively. Some scars make you, after all. I decided to ask Anna for an interview because I find both her art and her approach to life quite relatable as well as inspiring. Besides, she has no idea how much of the protagonist that I’ve been slowly developing over the past year I see in my favorite piece by her.
Marina Raydun: Although your medium is different than mine, I see your paintings as stories. And quite moving, profound ones, at that. You were born in the former Soviet Union, but moved to the United States at a very young age. You also lived in Israel. How many languages do you know? Which language lends itself better to your storytelling? What language does the muse use more often than not?
Anna Abramzon: I speak 3 languages (English, Russian, and Hebrew), and I have comprehensive Spanish, mostly because of my Argentine husband. Although it isn’t technically my native tongue, English is by far my strongest language.
But the language that lends itself to storytelling best for me is not comprised of words. I experience many parts of life in colors and shapes, and I have synesthesia, so even letters and numbers come attached to colors and sounds for me. It’s funny, because there are many times when someone will ask me “what were you thinking during….” And I can’t explain it because all I was “thinking” was colors and patterns.
You’re right that my paintings definitely tell stories, but it’s not nearly as concrete as written or spoken language – I don’t think of a specific story for each painting. In that way, I am different than an illustrator. Instead, my paintings are inspired by feelings, emotions, or fleeting memories and moments – and the story itself is different for each person viewing it. I am a natural empath, so I sense the emotions and moods of everyone around me – this is both a blessing and a curse in day to day life, but it is a huge asset in making art, particularly portraiture. This is what I love about visual art, it can tell many different stories and different viewers can appreciate and experience and relate to it in all different ways.
MR: What is the first experience you had when you learned that language had power?
AA: Language was an important part of my childhood. When I started school in America, not speaking any English, I quickly learned to read facial expressions, body language, and situations as their own language. It was intuitive, but it taught me to be much more observant of my surroundings and of other people – I guess you could say it was my first time “reading” the world, without any words. I think you can still see the lessons I learned during that time in my art.
MR: What affect do you feel growing up in family of immigrants had (and continues to have) on your creativity?
AA: I actually think it’s remarkable how much my immigrant childhood has shaped my life and my art. I am quite sentimental -- sometimes to a frustrating degree – and I get very attached to every place I live, and to people I cross paths with. I am that person who has to try not to cry whenever I’m saying good bye to my kids’ teachers at the end of the year (while my kids may be totally indifferent). I think this phenomenon is a direct descendant of the immigrant experience – I learned from a young age how fleeting life can be and so I try to hang on to every moment and experience. I think longing for connection and for permanence translates pretty clearly into my art.
My art also has a lot of Jewish themes and I make many Jewish ritual items. This, too, stems from the immigrant experience. My Jewish identity has always played a central role in how I understand myself and how I relate to the world around me, especially when I was younger, growing up as forever the “other”. As a child in the Soviet Union, it was always clear to me that my family and I were “different” and not accepted. My childhood was full of secrecy and mystery and subtle threat that I could not understand, but could sense nonetheless. It would be years before I would learn that my parents had been refuseniks, or what that word even means.
When we immigrated to America as refugees during Operation Exodus, suddenly I was introduced as “Russian” wherever I went. It was confusing and frustrating to me, as I had never been considered Russian in the Soviet Union (it would have been Ukrainian anyway, but my ethnicity was “Jew”, so I was neither Russian or Ukrainian). Then, when I moved to Israel as an adult, thinking this would finally reconcile my life-long identity confusion, I was suddenly called “American” by Israelis. This was another new development, as I had never quite felt “American” in America. As I have gotten older, those kind of identity labels have become less and less important to me, but Jewish tradition will always be something I cherish and celebrate and this is also obvious in my art.
MR: What is the most difficult part about your artistic process?
AA: I think the thing I struggle with most is my constant push and self-imposed pressure to grow and evolve– I guess that is something that we humans in general struggle with on all fronts. I am constantly trying to become a better artist. This means being as consistent as possible in my practice, but also pushing myself outside my comfort zone, experimenting and trying new things. This is really hard for me, but I keep doing it anyway because the goal is for every painting and every collection to be more challenging and more moving than the previous one for both my collectors and for me.
MR: What is your favorite genre to read?
AA: I love novels and naturally have a special soft spot for immigrant literature.
MR: Is there an illicit book you had to sneak growing up?
AA: This is so embarrassing because it’s total junk lit, but I definitely remember getting in big trouble as a kid for reading Flowers in the Attic.
MR: Are there any books you’ve read over and over again?
AA: Yes, quite a few! I have read Jonathan Franzen’s three most recent novels at least twice each. I have read The History of Love by Nicole Krauss many, many times. I have also re-read a few of Nathan Englander’s books and I have read Jhumpa Lahiri’s short stories and The Namesake several times. Oh, also Americanah by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie a couple times. Most recently I read Self Portrait with Boy by Rachel Lyons twice in a row. So clearly, I do this a lot.
MR: What are you currently reading?
AA: Right now I’m in the middle of Dave Eggers’ “A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius”.
MR: If you could have drinks with any person, living or dead, who would it be? Why?
AA: Oh wow, this is really a hard. I have so many artists and writers that inspire me. The first one who came to mind is Lucian Freud. But for living artists, I would say maybe writer Elizabeth Gilbert? She is such an incredibly wise and kind and talented person, I feel like being in her presence would be simultaneously illuminating and somehow also not as intimidating as some other people I can think of.
Also, I think you and I should get drinks next time we are on each other’s coast!
MR: What other artists are you friends with, and how do they help you become a better artist yourself?
AA: I am fortunate to have made many wonderful artist friends throughout my life, and I have learned so much from all of them. The first who comes to mind is my dear friend painter and yogi Joy Langer. She taught me all about generosity and how giving art can be. I have a small group of visual artist friends that I just recently started building since moving to Los Angeles, and these ladies are fierce and smart and creative and they inspire me to push through blocks and to make time for art no matter what. We meet once a month (now a days over Zoom, thanks Corona), but these coffee dates are the air I breathe. Also, my friend Inna Faliks is a classical pianist and I am completely awed by her talent, drive, creativity, risk-taking and discipline.
To learn more about Anna, visit:
Instagram.com/annaabramzonart
Facebook.com/annaabramzonstudio