That Boob Creature Girl
San Francisco-based artist Emilie Dashe has crafted an entire world inhabited by Boobelahs, the surrealist creatures of her creation. Here, she discusses her artistic journey, her influences, and the ideas that inspired the birth of her Boobelahs.
How did you develop your distinctive artistic style?
Developing a creative style goes hand-in-hand with the willingness to try things with no finesse, make mistakes, and learn from them over time. I think my own style reflects my current abilities as well as my limitations as a painter. The painting itself becomes the tension between what I am able to see with my own eyes and what I can actually do with my hands.
Who, or what, are your creative influences?
In terms of artistic mentors, my two biggest influences are Lia Halloran and Micol Hebron, two brilliant artists and professors at Chapman University. Lia Halloran completely changed the way that I thought about painting by inviting me to break the traditions of paint. Micol Hebron helped develop the feminist concepts that I was thinking about in my art. Both encouraged me to make my own choices and lean into my own creative voice.
After graduating, the practice of getting inspired takes on a whole different and less obvious shape. In general, I am most influenced by intense emotional experiences. Sometimes that means responding to my own personal experiences and using art to work through them. Other times I get inspired by experiencing other people’s art, like seeing a really good art show, watching a good movie or TV show or music video, or listening to music in my studio. That’s the power of art: it can trigger memories and resurface your emotions.
Some of my biggest artistic influences are Hilma Af Klint, Philip Guston, Christina Quarles, and Louise Bonnett because they all make political and thought-provoking representations of the body. I also feel the need to mention that I am connected to Louise Bourgeois because she was the first artist I remember making a mark on me as a little girl.
Can you describe that initial encounter with Louise Bourgeois’s work? What was it about her work that left an impression on you?
When I first came across Louise Bourgeois’s work, I was in my middle school art class. I connected with her because she was French-American like I am, and she was also one of the first artists I encountered that was a woman. To my surprise, her work confronted a subject matter that wasn’t aiming to be objectively beautiful. That was a huge turning point in my childhood understanding of art because up until then I had thought that art was meant to fill you with desire. Her giant spider sculpture Maman instead filled me with fear and disgust. I was into it. I loved that I was allowed to feel something other than just admiration. I remember immediately thinking that was the scale of art I wanted to make because of its intimidating and unavoidable presence. Louise Bourgeois rejected the simplicity of empty beauty and it showed me that art didn’t have to be physically appealing because our experiences aren’t always appealing.
Can you explain the significance of the surrealist creatures that inhabit your work? How do they engage with representations of the female nude embedded in the art historical canon?
I call these creatures Boobelahs, which is inspired by a Yiddish word of endearment. Their purpose is to counteract the ways that women continue to be restricted and commodified. My Boobelahs came out of a desperate need to accept myself in a radical way. The process of sculpting helped me visualize a body that could exist freely without the pressure of fitting into a specific ideal. The Boobelahs abandon the passive gaze of the viewer and engage in their own expressive body language.
The imagery of nudes have been extensively used throughout the history of art not only to appropriate female sexuality, but also to perpetuate cultural beauty standards. That’s why my creatures are objectified in an obvious way; I’ve removed their heads and they subsequently see the world through their objectified body parts. I guess it’s a metaphor for the way I used to perceive myself through my own physical desirability. I haven’t glazed the surface of the clay so that when fired they have a slightly uneven tone. Their imperfections are a meaningful response to traditional representations of beauty by confronting the aesthetic standards that are placed on women and providing new meaning to our bodies.
You’ve depicted these creatures in various settings and rendered them in both painting and sculpture. The experience of viewing your body of work as a whole is almost like entering some sort of alternate yet parallel reality. Is the concept of world building something you consider when engaging in your artistic practice?
The world I’m creating didn’t start out as intentional – it kind of just happened. The more I confronted my insecurities about my own worth, the more I felt empowered. When I realized that there is nothing more satisfying for me than feeling power over men in the patriarchal culture of art, I was hooked on accepting myself through my practice of painting and sculpture. Art gave me a platform to confront the parts of myself of which I was taught to be afraid.
Once I made those sculptures as a response to my paintings, I found that one medium informed the other and I would never run out of things to make. I realized that other people were responding to them too and that’s how my world continues to take shape. I became known within Chapman’s small art department as “that boob creature girl,” a title that I have clearly embraced. The more I created my Boobelahs, the less I thought about myself in a harmful way. That’s what my universe is about: creating a space that nurtures bodily and intellectual freedom.
I’m particularly drawn to the figure huddled in the corner of Lady Space (2023) — their body language conveys shyness and insecurity, distinguishing them from the rest of their species who seem to revel in their nudity. What is the significance of the draped figure?
The draped figure huddled in the corner of my Lady Space painting is an important character because this Boobelah is expressing a rejection of norms in regards to their own nakedness. This reflects the shame that many women are made to feel about their bodies and the subsequent discomfort of being physically vulnerable, especially in a public setting. I think body image issues are extremely common and aren’t restricted to just women, however most women I’ve met have had some sort of eating disorder or engaged in compulsive dieting. It’s really important for me to represent the culture of female beauty standards and how they might show up within myself because I know they do have a hold on so many people. My Boobelahs are me and I am them. I try to think about anything I have ever felt about my body and how that has influenced some sort of interaction with myself and others.
Can you tell me about your experience transitioning from college to the professional world?
My experience of transitioning from college to the professional world has been kind of a whirlwind. I got a job teaching oil painting in San Francisco and I have also been making paintings and sculptures out of my own studio in Bayview. It’s definitely more of a responsibility to reach out and get your work out there – I am still working through the fears that I have over it. All I can say is that it does get easier the more you apply to things.
After being a student for so long, how does it feel to be the teacher?
After being a student for so long, being a teacher is an awkward adjustment. I definitely did not feel prepared to conduct a classroom full of students. The thing that gave me confidence is knowing that I know my own practice more than anyone else does. Sometimes they may know things that I don’t, and that’s a great opportunity for me to open myself up to new ideas. I realized that the job could teach me just as much as I was teaching them. I don’t need to know everything and can be open about my own limitations while still helping my students improve at their own practice. The most valuable thing is a new perspective because it gives you the opportunity to challenge what you know.
What advice do you have for budding creatives?
My advice for budding artists is to trust your own instincts and don’t be afraid to do something differently from what you are told. When you’re starting out, it can be difficult to make room for everyone’s opinions, but I’ve learned that people’s unprepared reactions to your art are critically insightful. I would say to trust the people that know who you are, but also don’t be afraid to disagree and take a leap of faith for yourself. Embrace your mistakes because those are often a lot more helpful than your successes.
What’s next for you?
I plan to eventually move back to LA to be in the art gallery scene, but as of now I feel very lucky with my job and my studio here in San Francisco, so I will be working continuously until I find another opportunity.
Originally published January 10, 2024
