Hosanna Rubio

Making Meaning from Mayhem OR How to Over-Share at Parties

You know the people who you can tell have just had a “life”? Like, life with a capital L: Life. We smile till our cheeks hurt, but our eyes say we have seen some things. I am one of those people, whose casual anecdotes typically get one of two responses: “Wow, you should totally write a book”, or stunned silence followed by a slow escape. But if pop culture and a generalized knowledge of art history have taught me anything, it’s that I’ll never lack for experiences to draw from to make art.

If you have ever met me, chances are you know that I was raised in a Fundamentalist Pentecostal church. Our church leader had been prophesying the end of the world since the mid-seventies, and with every passing year the congregation became more emphatic that we were living in the end times. For as long as I can remember, I was taught not to fear death, but to welcome it. People would often tell me, always with a glow of religious fervor, “This isn’t our true life. Our true life comes after we die.” This constant discussion of death filled me with existential dread from such a young age that it drove me to seek out why something that was so reassuring to those around me could be so terrifying for me.

Morbid from a young age, I threw myself a funeral at age five. “Here lies Hosanna”

I developed a fascination with subjects that touched on the macabre, such as Vanitas paintings, which used imagery like bones and wilting flowers as reminders of man’s mortality. The word Vanitas was derived in part from Ecclesiastes 1:2, “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.” While the original Hebrew word “hevel” means a “breath,” or “vapor,” and symbolized fleetingness, later translations substituted the word vanity, which has Latin origins meaning empty, vain, and idle.

Hevel. Steel, sterling silver, copper, brass, enamel. 6” x 3.5” x 1”

In the Shadow of your Poison Tree. Steel, silver, copper, brass, bronze, laser etched enamel, tulle, acrylic, cigarettes, rubber. 18” x 6” x 2”

In Medieval Christianity, disease and death were seen as divine punishment, and it was common for individuals to examine their moral conduct to determine how they had brought illness upon themselves. In some form or another, this belief lives on today. I was never a healthy child. The other members of our church saw my constant injuries and afflictions as an indication of a moral failing on my part. This pressure to fear my pain and illness, to feel ashamed of it, drove me to try to find a way to redefine the situation for myself, to reclaim the beauty in the transience of life.

Keen Brooch Series: Shadow, Uphill, Void. X-ray, acrylic, paper, copper, brass, silver, steel, enamel, hair, wood. 7” x 3.5” x 1”

Prick. X-ray, acrylic, silver, copper, brass, bronze, rubber. 20” x 3.5” x 1”

Mourners. X-ray, acrylic, silver, steel, brass, rubber. 20” x 3.5” x 1”

This lecture and demonstration explores a body of work consisting of jewelry and sculptures that delve into personally significant issues such as mortality, religion, and gender, while also striving to push the boundaries on what constitutes expected jewelry materials and processes. I will share the techniques I have developed over the course of my studio practice, such as galvanic etching, which allows me to make my mark on the world just as it has left its mark on me.

We Came Together and We Came Apart. Cast silver and bronze, acrylic, X-ray. 2” x 1.5” x 1.5”

Creating layered, detailed pieces allows me to find balance in the chaotic, to attempt to exert control over the uncontrollable aspects of my life and in the world at large. While my experiences are not universal I hope to inspire an atmosphere of dialogue with my work to show that sometimes moments of pain and tragedy can offer us the greatest opportunities for beauty and transformation (And hey, it’s cheaper than therapy!)