Resa Blatman is a visual artist working in a variety of media, including installations, paintings, and drawings. Her exhibition Little Green premiered this past fall at the McCoy Art Gallery at the Rogers Center for the Arts here at Merrimack College.
For years, Blatman’s practice has centered around the shifting climate and the catastrophes caused by an overheating planet. The works presented in this exhibition continue those explorations, walking the delicate line between humankind’s ultimate place within a vast universe and the subtle, tiny influences that affect people’s everyday lives. It mourns the wounded Earth, while underscoring the idea that humanity’s own stubbornness may be its eventual fate.
Simultaneously loud, yet quiet, Little Green finds harmony in the two extremes. The forces at the heart of this exhibition are spirituality, the purpose in intangible things, our interconnectedness, the world we inhabit, and love.
By Liza Santerre
Resa Blatman is a visual artist working in a variety of media, including installations, paintings, and drawings. Her exhibition Little Green premiered this past fall at the McCoy Art Gallery at the Rogers Center for the Arts here at Merrimack College. The exhibition included paintings, installations, a living terrarium, and a collaborative sound piece with Dr. Andrew Cote (Assistant Professor of Music). Little Green ran from September 13th to November 8th, 2024. Hundreds of students, parents, faculty, and visitors to the campus had the opportunity to see it.
On October 18th, artist Resa Blatman gave a talk about her exhibition, where she expressed her process through her experience with a residency at Cambridge Cemetery. She spoke about a dying tree in the cemetery, bolted and wired together—forced to stay alive by humans. Resa related this experience to Little Green, stating that it was an exhibition about death. While death can be a miserable thing, Resa noted, “Without the dark, we don’t have light.” She conveyed this theme of beauty existing in death with human-less landscapes thriving with vibrant green moss and pink skies—an imagined universe after humanity’s extinction.
Over the course of the exhibition, I worked alongside Resa Blatman as her student intern at the Merrimack McCoy Gallery. As part of my role, I gained intimate, hands-on insight into her artwork and had the opportunity to interview her about her artistic background and creative process.
Liza Santerre: My first question was how you first settled on being an artist as a professional career.
Resa Blatman: That’s a big one because I think I’ve been an artist all my life. I was around four or so when some adult asked me “What do you want to be when you grow up?” and I said “I want to be a artist.” I didn’t say “an artist” I said “a artist,” and that story was repeated to me as I got older by my mother. So, it’s something I’ve always wanted to do and I just never thought of anything else that I would do. It’s funny ‘cause my husband and other people have told me they never knew what they wanted to do, and so I just assumed everyone felt like I did: they had a passion or a thing that they wanted to follow.
LS: Is there anything that inspired you along your journey to keep going?
RB: I don’t think there was any inspiration per se. I just felt a passion and a drive, so I followed that. It was sort of a natural calling and sometimes those things are the most inspirational. It’s funny that you ask this question because now that I’m much older and I’ve lived the majority of my life I often think I might choose a different profession if I live my life over again. I don’t know if I could choose a different profession ‘cause like I said, it’s this drive to make art, but it’s such a difficult profession and a lot of people think it’s just fun, but it isn’t just fun.
I mean it’s wonderful to make the work. Making the work is very exciting, but the rewards, you know, not getting paid and having an accumulation of artwork—and now that I’m older, what am I going to do with it all? We don’t have children so who am I going to pass it on to? So, there’s just different times I think I would have been an archaeologist or just something different. It’s nice to be able to take your career and travel with it. Like a writer can just pick up and go, and I can pick up and go too if I wanted, but I need all my supplies.
LS: That’s a really cool perspective. I appreciate you sharing that. I know you said you’ve been an artist all your life, but do you remember your first experience when you were like, “I’m a professional artist now. This is what I’m doing for a living”? Was there a first experience then at that point?
RB: I did commissions when I was younger–portraits and stuff, so that felt good, but to be honest I went back to school in my 30s and got my degree in graphic design, and that’s when I felt like a professional because I had a degree that allowed me to earn money. I also started teaching, so I felt like a professional as a graphic designer. It wasn’t until much later in life that I felt like a professional artist and that’s when I got big commissions to do public art installations or big paintings. Those made me feel professional—having a big studio made me feel professional.
But like I said, you can feel like a professional and know that you’re professional and still not having any clients because the art market is so wishy-washy. People don’t need art the way they need food and housing and other things. During Open Studios I noticed that people come in and they might spend $600 or $800 on something frivolous, like even going out to eat. But buying art they’re always sort of like hem and haw—“Oh that’s so expensive,” and you get to live with it the rest of your life. So, it’s funny how people value art as much lower than other things.
LS: I would love to hear more about your artistic process if you have one specifically. What does an artwork or exhibition look like from start to finish?
RB: I could actually use Merrimack College as an example—that show, Little Green. So, last summer 2023, I was in Maine, and I got a call from Dan Vlahos. He called and said that wanted to give me a show, and I hadn’t heard of Merrimack, and I was like, “Wow thank you,” so I accepted. Then I went back to the studio after my summer vacation, and I was still working on paintings—the moss paintings for my residency in Mount Auburn Cemetery—but I knew I would show them.
He initially said, “You can show whatever you want; it doesn’t have to be all new work if you want to do a retrospective,” but I tend to like to show new work. So, I decided I would add to my moss painting collection for Merrimack. I went to visit and met Jonathan [Latiano] and saw the space and that helped me figure out how much work I needed and what I should hang. Jonathan and I talked about it, and then I started to just make more moss paintings. If you remember from my talk the other day, seeing that big wall had been painted black, I wanted to paint it something else. I thought I just have to have a big painting there, and I went with that idea. I just worked spring into summer, making that big red, pink painting and a few others, and then the installation and the terrarium.
So it was just a little bit over a year, which sounds like a long time, but isn’t in the painting field because it’s so slow. I also, when I met with Jonathan, said “Oh I’ll make an installation and I’ll do terrarium,” and during all that time I thought oh my God why did I promise all this work. It’s so much and I don’t even know if I can get the painting done. But I managed. You know, sometimes you just are forced to push through, and I’m really pleased with the terrarium. If I had more time maybe I could have found a cover but it’s kind of cool that it’s open.
RB: The installation is good. I think if I were doing a big wall installation, I would have given it more time to experiment and see what came up but my priority was the paintings. So, the process for that is always just to work. My process is, I actually just sit here and look at images online of the things that I want to paint. Because I work through my imagination, I don’t sketch, but my way of sketching is taking images into Photoshop and making composition and then painting from that, but then I change it completely. So, I just spent a lot of time looking at photos and images and my brain starts to come up with an idea. And I spend a lot of time in my studio. Then what was the other part of the question besides the process? It was how it came to be a show, right?
For me it’s a lot of prep in the image research and then the work and then the installation and then there’s all the stuff in between “This sucks, I can’t hang this. Oh my God I have to cancel the show.” I really thought that when I was struggling with the painting, I better call Jonathan and cancel the show. So there’s self-doubt that creeps in, and I think this is true for most artists especially for a solo show. Group shows are different ‘cause you know you can bounce off the other artists and the spotlight is not only on you. And retrospective shows are also very easy because you just pick work that you already have made, but making new work for shows can be very daunting.
LS: You mentioned all these little inspirations like seeing the wall in the gallery and also online images and I was wondering if, when you begin a piece, do you have an idea of what you want it to represent or what you want it to look like in the beginning?
RB: Did I show you the big red painting in the beginning? Did you see how it was a lot of sky? The clouds I did first and then I started putting in the moss and it just felt like too many shapes. I was going to show that you know in the talk but at the last minute [Jonathan’s] like, no let’s just keep it casual. I think students tend to like to see what the process you know like this is what it started out as, and here’s what it ended up being. So, I had made this big photoshop montage of that similar painting and I was copying from it.
The thing is, I make these beautiful Photoshop things and then they’re done. And I think Well I’ll just copy that, and the problem is that the idea is executed in Photoshop. Then when I try to paint it, the inspiration to work on it is not there. But I seem to have to force myself to go through the process, and then once I have it all down, I can then go in and really start painting. So painting is a lot of taking away and adding, taking away and adding until I find the story in the painting.
LS: Is there an intention that you hope your audience to see when you display your work or do you hope they gain their own ideas of what it means for them, or maybe both?
RB: Yes, it’s both, because I can’t control what they feel and see and then, you were at the talk, and you heard that some people felt one way about one thing and others felt another way. So, there’s just no accounting for how people are going to feel about the work, but the goal is subtly, I hope that people will change their behavior around the climate and nature and the environment. I don’t have any illusions that my art is going to change the world, but if one person gets inspired and is moved by the work to do something different, maybe volunteer, or fly on a plane less, or recycle, or just use fewer resources, then that’s a good thing.
I also hope that people feel a sense of compassion when they see my paintings. I want them to feel something. Maybe walk away and feel something. It may not last but if they take that feeling with them that’s good if it’s a good feeling. Usually people have good feelings, I think, when they see my work. Someone saw my moss paintings at Open Studios last May and she’s a new friend, and she told another friend in my studio that my paintings seem sad and I had never heard that before, and it made me think that there may have been a sadness when I was making some of them because there is a kind of mourning for the Earth and what’s happening.
But I also see them as sort of triumphing, you know, the little mosses are surviving and triumphing over this very ominous sky and the changing temperature. So it’s both. You know there is a sadness, but life is the same for all humans. One day we can feel sadness but also feel grateful we can feel sorrow, and also joy all at the same time.
LS: That’s beautiful. You talk a lot about all these different ideas that go to work. Do you have any tips for aspiring artists or advice you would give them?
RB: In what aspect do you think?
LS: Making the work, I think.
RB: My advice would be “Have a backup plan.” [With] Making the work, I think you have to see a lot of art and look at a lot of art, and there’s so much to see. When I was a student, I was always going to the museums and galleries and so forth. I don’t go that much anymore, and I get sort of, not lectured, but shamed in a way by my friends, that I don’t go to more museums and such. But I feel like I’ve seen enough art, and I see a lot online, but I feel like I’ve seen enough art to know at this stage of my life what I want to make and what inspires me. And to be honest, I’d much rather be out in nature hiking, riding my bike, than going to a museum. That’s how I feel now. I loved being in nature always, but I would like “Oh yeah, I’ve got to go to this museum,” “Got to see this show,” and I just don’t care that much anymore.
For instance, today. It’s a beautiful day. My husband and I are going to go for a nice long bike ride to enjoy the real colors of the real leaves and the real trees and it’s wonderful to see the paintings because as a painter, I’m like “Wow how did they make that? How did they do that?” You know, some beautiful historic paintings are so amazing, and I admired that, and it stays with me, but being in nature is a far greater pleasure at this point in my life. I’ve read all kinds of studies about how immersing yourself in nature is good for your health. So even seeing photos, seeing images of nature is good for you, but it’s not as good as being there, so that’s my priority. So, you asked about aspiring artists. I would say look at a lot of work. As much as possible.
LS: Did you ever face a big challenge in your career as an artist, and if you did, how did you overcome that?
RB: Well yes, I faced a lot of big challenges throughout my career. I believe the most haunting was 2022. I really was depressed and wanted to give up my career, and I was going to just throw in the towel. Then, I apply for things all the time, like apply for public art projects, grants, and residencies, and stuff because it’s just so it’s part of my work process. I get up, do my applications, do my computer work, emails, and such. Anyway, I was really ready to give up, and then I got that cemetery residency at Mount Auburn Cemetery, which in a way saved my life. And the irony of a cemetery saving my life is really kind of funny.
Now looking back, I feel like the signs from, however you want to think of it—spiritually from the universe—were telling me it’s not time yet for you to give up. I was given another chance because, like I said, making art is wonderful to do, but if you’re doing it as your soul career motivator there has to be more than just making the art. I feel people have to want it, otherwise why am I making all this stuff? Because I don’t want to keep it all, but if other people don’t want it, then I should do something else with my life that serves other people or animals…So, that’s where I was. I was thinking What am I going to do? And I started volunteering at a farm. I started hospice volunteering. I did all these things to figure out what else I could do with my life and here I am back making art again so, go figure, I don’t know. I’m still doing hospice volunteering, but also, I want to spend more time hiking and biking and doing things in nature.
LS: So, the last big question I have is related to your exhibition statement. You refer to “spirituality, the purpose in intangible things, our interconnectedness, the world we inhabit, and love” as some of the ideas that are at the heart of your exhibition Little Green. Now that the show’s installed, are there any other takeaways you would like the audience to get from the exhibition that you didn’t initially consider?
RB: It’s hard to convey the spirituality part. I’m afraid of turning people off, ‘cause it’s not religion-based, but it’s really based in this belief that we’re connected to each other and the universe and that there’s a grander meaning out there than what we see here on Earth. But I’m not so good at talking about it. I mean, I’m not schooled in the spiritual practice that I understand how to talk about it very well. So I’m afraid that I sound like a kook if I start saying “Well the universe provided me with this answer and the spirits guided me in this direction.” But I really do think that there are other forces at work aside from our determination to do something.
There’s something else going on out there that you’re unaware of most of the time. So, that’s something that I hope transcends in the work without overstating it too much. I mean, I had the sound piece, and it’s only a portion. It really doesn’t go into what Eckhart Tolle teaches deeply, but it touches on it vaguely. I don’t know without becoming a spiritual teacher, how else I could really get the message out there. But I try to through the way I title the pieces and how I talk about some of the pieces.
LS: That’s really fascinating. I think your pieces do a great job of signifying that in my opinion.
RB: What do you get from it, Liza? What did you get from the show overall?
LS: I feel like looking into all those paintings there is a sort of vastness that communicated what you were just saying about being external forces that we don’t really see, but we can feel. And I felt them through your paintings because, like I said, the vastness in them, it exemplified that there’s this other force that’s affecting everything else.
RB: Have you talked to any other students about the work? Has anyone said anything to you about it?
LS: I’ve talked to some people for sure I’m trying to think of I can’t remember who I’ve talked to. I think it was with my dad. We mentioned he was color blind, so when he was looking at the paintings, he was seeing the shapes more than the colors and seeing how “the shape looks sort of like this,” and “I wonder what this shape is. Is it supposed to look like something or is it just a shape that’s like making you feel something?”
RB: That’s interesting. I wish I had more time to talk to him. When he showed me on the phone what he sees, it kind of made me sad because everything is so great black and white. I mean, there’s a little bit of color there, but not very much.
LS: No. I can’t imagine living without all those colors. I tell him all the time but he’s like “I don’t really know what it looks like so there’s nothing to miss out on.” He sees things from a whole other point of view that people sometimes don’t even consider.
RB: I mean there must be a reason for color blindness that gives him a strength that we don’t have—an insight that we don’t have. You know maybe in early human times, when there were color blind people, they were used to do certain hunting or whatever, you know ‘cause they could see shapes that other people couldn’t see, or they could detect. Their other senses may have been a little stronger, maybe hearing senses or whatever. So yeah, maybe he has a sense and a strength that we lack. But yes, as people who appreciate color, it’s so sad.
Graphic Design undergraduate students complete designs over summer.