The Next Generation – Alexandra Iosub

Travels Between Realms

Alexandra Iosub swims through universes when creating. One gets the feeling that the figures, scapes, and scenes which emerge layer by layer wherever the artist makes marks, are remnants from exploratory deep dives, brought to the surface. Based in North Idaho, the artist seemingly dips into different planes and worlds as often as possible. From the areas of woodworking, yarn-making, printing, music, and more, Iosub is not only always immersed in the artistic realm, but is constantly extracting from it images and artifacts of mystery and reflection. But more than merely extracting and collecting from each and every endeavor, the pinnacle of what the artist is most concerned with creating and exploring, is a personal world where no definitions or delineations are needed. Here, drawings are immortal. They morph to become part of one another while their imagery and patterns at first so filled with mystery are really interconnected. Like every world full of living things, Alexandra Iosub’s is made up of delicate and critical links. It’s a world with beautiful fundamentals and infinite ways to expand.

Part One: Who is Alexandra Iosub?

Question #1: Who are you?

I am a puzzle of art, making, crafting, and interstitial interests. I designed my life so I can continue to be an artist after 14 years of art school, by engaging in creative placemaking research, and learning new skills. Learning is my favorite pastime. I love the woods and ramen noodles, pretty grain and cotton paper. Potential is the most attractive feature of the world, and liminality is my home. I built a tiny house on wheels from scratch; that\’s where I\’ve been living and working for a few years. I do woodworking to pay the bills, and I spin wool into yarn as meditation. I love playing with precious metals and gems because I can\’t afford jewelry so I make it myself. I am currently learning how to build musical instruments and thinking about getting into bow-making. My spiritual needs are met by Buddhism, and my extensive childhood trauma gives me a lot of material to apply it to.

Question #2: Who are you as an artist?

I used to think of myself as wearing different (and separate) hats like artist, woodworker, educator, etc., but my intention is to build a lifestyle that lets the different aspects of my intellect flow seamlessly. I have a keen interest in neurobiology, with meditation as the access point to my own mind: I don\’t think the separations between subjects of learning is natural or beneficial. The brain has no fences, so why shouldn\’t we think about everything as interconnected? I am a trained printmaker, but life has pushed me to make do with other ways of mark-making, to question the nature of the mark, and so I am exploring the inbetween spaces of drawing and printmaking, while looking into the intersection between body and space, through relationships, rituals, and restrictions. My next project will be a book laying all this out.

Question #3: In terms of your artistic journey, why are you here and where are you going?

HERE is a result of an unpredictable course of events marked by a determination to keep my freedom as a maker. In fact, I intentionally refuse to be a consumer unless absolutely necessary. As an artist, I am trained to problem-solve, because making art is indeed a continuous stream of problem-creating-and-solving. So I am here because I refuse to take for granted the definition of life this culture insists upon, and I am following the advice Heidegger gives in his essay \”Building, dwelling, thinking\”. I am silently carving my own place in this world, towards the unknown.

Question #4: What do you absolutely need your audience to know about you or your work?

Everything is connected. My woodworking informs my drawings. My passion for wool informs my narrative sources of inspiration. Literature plays a big part in the word play that inspires imagery. Music is always playing when I work, and the textures made by the different instruments find their way in the way I layer my compositions. I use my whole brain when I create visual work. Sometimes is works. Sometimes it doesn\’t, but it\’s always interesting.

Question #5: What has the process of making art taught you or given you?

At first, art was a refuge. An outlet to pour forth grief. As the practice grew, it became therapy through movement and repetition, and the process became more important. The separate parts of making art (inspiration, medium, venue, presentation) lost their edges and became interchangeable and subservient to the conceptual process, while life and practice merged. Now the process of making art is a lifestyle. It\’s happening all the time in between specifics, avoiding the performative and focusing on the relational.
The art making process is first and foremost a problem solving process with art work as documentation. I think it works to heal the maker because it\’s meant to tackle bigger issues.

Question #6: What keeps you going?

Every single person in this world is trying to find the answer to this question because it is absolutely necessary for one\’s continued existence. It is the question behind every midlife crisis. Why am I here and why should I continue to be?
I have the sense that I am about to stumble upon something great if I continue on the path I have crafted for myself over these couple decades. It\’s a very new feeling. I don\’t know how it will manifest, but I will find a way to share it with the world. Right now, I have a book to look forward to.


Part Two: Bridges Between

How would you describe your work and practice?

My finished gallery pieces are generally a mix of drawing and printmaking. I often tear into old drawings to use as backgrounds, or layer fresh paper on unfinished work. The essential change is the context. The mark is codified into recognizable patterns, a portrait, a body, a space. The artwork is the bridge between concept and the real world using all the tools at my disposal, so – as a bridge – it is simply built to withstand the back and forth of meaning.

A very clear lesson form the past 5 years has been the exclusive relationship between safety and freedom. Both are absolutely needed for a fulfilling existence, but must be balanced out with each other. This piece is called \”…But Not Both\” and is about the control exerted on individual lives by established cultural and economic institutions. It asks the question: have you considered this?
The medium is old drawing, recontextualized lithograph, and pencil on mounted paper. 2020, 30\”x20\”
Another lesson from my \”Making Room\” tiny house project was keeping my mind open to unexpected outcomes. The imagery is pure metaphor: the milled wood sprouting new buds, from both framing wood and matches. The potential of dead things to bring new life into the world.
Titled \”Potential\”, 2020, 22\”x18\”, woodblock print, ink drawing, pencil.
2020 seems to have been a year of self-portraits. By October, the interstices that held humanity together felt like they were tearing apart between the fires, hurricanes, protests, and needless Covid deaths. The world screamed in pain and it was impossible to hold.
Titled \”October 2020\”, 30\”X20 new ink drawing and old woodblock prints on mounted paper, with old drawing layer.
Where/ How can Vacant Museum viewers see more of your work and where can they purchase it?
I have some work available on my website, http://www.alexandraiosub.com/shop
more images available on http://www.alexandraiosub.com/galleries
contact me for more information http://www.alexandraiosub.com/about