Q&A: How to Be Hot Pink with Emily Burkhead

Intermedia artist Emily Burkhead

Emily Burkhead—intermedia artist—is like really creative. Read the Q&A from our interview available on YouTube, Spotify, and Apple Podcasts.

ZACK ORSBORN:

So I am joined by Emily Burkhead. Emily is an amazing intermedia artist and filmmaker. I first met you—I hadn't met you yet, but I first met your art at the Ugly Art Co. gallery. We're both part of the Ugly Art Co. collective. And I was so amazed and impressed by, like, the searing pink.

The hot pink, which is one of my favorite colors. I'm very connected to that color, and it really connected to my inner femininity and this childhood sense of wonder. And I just had to have you on the show and talk to you about your creative process.

So one thing that stood out to me was your thesis, your “Trigger/Glimmer/Something Else” thesis.

It's a mixture of 3D printing, found material and surrealist video. What was the idea behind that? How did that come about?

EMILY BURKHEAD:

Yeah. So, that was definitely a sort of long—I’d say painful—process. Because I was pretty lost in grad school. Because—I don't know if you saw this—

I don't have a BFA—like, I have a social science degree in undergrad. So I went to my MFA without much artistic training. So when I was formulating the thesis, at this point, I was really intrigued by a lot of materials that I was seeing, even though I was from a film background. I can't paint. I’m not a painter, but I would go to thrift stores and see, like, you know, all these weird things.

Lansing, Michigan has an amazing thrifting scene. It's like right at the perfect point where there's enough of it and there's like no consignment stores. You can get whatever you want. And it’s not upcharge. So anyway at some point I found a 3D printing pen. And one of the ones for kids—like very crappy, for a lack of better word. And I sort of mixed that with some filament I already had—this sort of translucent hot pink filament with translucent hot pink marine vinyl. And then something sort of clicked. And so I sort of used those materials as a form of expression and just continued to play around with them. And allowed it to grow and develop.

ZO:

I was reading about more about that project, and a lot of it was about you connecting with your queer and neurodivergent childhood.

Which also, I really resonated with that because being both of those. What made you want to express that?

EB:

Well. Yeah. Feelings of difference. And even just while I was formulating, using those materials, using the hot pink—the feedback for critique I would get was “why pink?” and “why this material?” But people don’t ask that of painters, you know. And it was a valid question to accept.

I didn't quite know what it meant to that. But I realized it was a dopamine inducer—the pink. The pink felt forbidden in a way.

Because it feels—or I've been told or socialized to believe that it's childish. It's trashy. It’s garish.

ZO:

All three of my favorite things.

EB:

Yeah. Right. And that's like—that's very queer.

It's very queer. And so I realized I had to lean into it, and I had to explore it further and I had to figure out okay “why do I love this pink?” Even though I don't—I don't wear that.

Like that's not my fashion sense. People will talk to me about that all the time. They’re like, “you don’t dress like that.” And it’s like, no I don’t, but I needed to figure out why I was so attracted to it, and it was because of that. It was because of feeling weird and feeling different and allowing myself to go back into my childhood. And sort of reclaim some of those materials that maybe were too feminine or maybe I didn't appreciate them at the time or, you know, things like that, where I just felt othered. And this is a way to kind of put those materials and those textures and those colors into a different context.

ZO:

Yeah, I love that. And especially—”Trigger” and “Glimmer” is in the title. You know, that's surrounding neurodivergence. How does neurodivergence strengthen your work and how might it hinder it? If so.

EB:

Just to say, for those at home, the title comes from the things in the work that are yellow, usually, and kind of like—

I would say more traditionally boyish colors—are my sensory triggers. And so I have written phrases like, wet socks and contemporary Christian music and things that might make me cringe a bit.

ZO:

Ed fucking Sheeran. And I saw that one.

EB:

That that's everyone's favorite. Yeah, that's a good one.

And then the glimmers are things written in pink and those are things like weighted blankets. And my nephew’s laugh. And then “something else” is kind of all the other colors, all everything that brings it together. So I've kind of followed that visual language that I get from listening to my body, listening to the sort of reactions I get as a neurodivergent person and letting that guide me.

I think it's a strength as you were asking. Like, it's a strength, and it's kind of hard to explain to other people sometimes. And that's where it becomes a quote unquote weakness. When I was in graduate school, I would often get the feedback of like, “we don't know what this is trying to do. You're not good at talking about this work. You need to work on your artist's statement” and things like that. And that was really, really disheartening for me because it's like I was pouring myself out into this work and I was speaking visually. I was speaking, it's just others couldn't understand it.

ZO:

Yes, I can relate to that 100%.

It's hard for me to verbalize my feelings sometimes. And one of the reasons I wanted to do this is to get better at speaking and having better conversations. Sometimes it takes a while for things to process, like there's almost like a disconnect between my mind and my mouth. So I've always been better at expressing myself through writing fiction and poetry and colors.

So with that, is there a way that your art displays your feelings? Like how does your art display your feelings for you?

EB:

Yeah, that's a really good question.

I think what people see first is color, and that's definitely there.

Color is always there. It's really important. I'm sure it is for basically every artist. Obviously for me too, but I think also texture.

I had a peer back in grad school who talked about touching with the eyes. That is something I think about a lot. Because even if we can't touch the work—which, I have in the past allowed people to touch the work depending on what piece it is and how fragile it is, but the multi-sensory sort of experience is important. And I think that texture, going back to the question is, it's very raw. Like, I want that rawness to be expressed through the work because It's just the richest in my opinion for my work when it comes from that place.

ZO:

Yeah. And that can be hard to verbalize sometimes, that rawness. Another thing that really impressed me was that you incorporate video and film. And you created this character, Miss Bubblegum.

I want to hear more about Miss Bubblegum. What gave you that idea and what was the process of creating Miss Bubblegum?

EB:

Oh man. Yeah.

As I said before, I went into graduate school with a film portfolio. Basically I was doing film, but then towards the end of the three years I went towards mixed media, and so I knew I needed to film in my thesis. I just knew I needed it. And so, over the three years I've been introduced to more feminist filmmakers like Mika Rottenberg, Maya Deren—but Mika Rottenberg especially. For those who don't know, she's like a social surrealist filmmaker where she does these short films that are kind of like reality, but not quite.

And they comment on capitalism and labor and bodies and especially gendered spaces and bodies. She uses weird props in really weird circumstances. I really like that. And so I knew I wanted it to be that sort of social surrealist space, because that's kind of what being neurodivergent feels like. That's kind of what feeling othered feels like in a very, homogenous space.

Or a very oppressive space—is you're kind of having this weird experience where everyone is speaking a different language. Or they have these expectations of you that you don't know where they're coming from or why. And so I was racking my brain. I just kind of sat down and wrote a short script and it just—I think it came from this childlike place of reading a story to an audience because it's almost like I feel like I have to dumb myself down a lot of the time for other people. I have to make my thoughts and feelings palatable in some way for others. And so I think that creating that sort of type of communication with the audience is what I was going for.

I don't know how to explain it, but the words just flowed—like it was a very short script.

It was more like a treatment, to be honest. And I knew she had to be weird. She had to have—like, I dyed my hair pink. I don't normally dye my hair. And I had on press on nails and things like that. That film got made in like 48 hours. And so much of the credit goes to my partner Henry, because he's—

I have professional film experience, but, Henry actually got a degree in it. It's so nice because I can just only focus on what I need to focus on. And he's doing camera, and he's doing the DPing and it just looks phenomenal. But then I also got to do a lot of improvization with the lines and stuff like that and the break down.

ZO:

You were talking about Henry. What is it like having a partner that's also creative? Do yall fuel each other? What's that like?

EB:

Yeah. I'm glad you asked that because it's something I think more people should know or talk about because it’s a complex experience.

When I was in graduate school, there were quite a few, like power couples, like professor power couples that kind of get interesting. Like, honestly, it would be a little stressful because you would be scared, like, okay, if I'm on bad terms with this professor, am I'm going ot be on bad terms with their spouse. Honestly. And so I think Henry and I have always been like worried about that.

You know, if I become a professor one day or in some other position of power and so does he. But, he and I have had to really work on that in our relationship where he's a very highly motivated individual. He's a lot more outgoing than me. And I have a lot of imposter syndrome.

People talk about that a lot. But it's real. It's true. And so we've had to learn to walk the line of him really being my advocate and cheerleader while not feeling like he's trying to take it all over. At the same time, I've had to learn to walk the line of letting him in and not shutting him out.

Because he's incredibly helpful. Like networking. I'm so bad at it.

Like even how I got into Ugly was like, I probably wouldn't have done that without him because I needed the courage to go into that gallery and talk to Anderson. He was there behind me and so it's definitely a push and a pull.

And we haven't really collaborated right out on anything yet. It's more like so far one of us serves as like an assistant to the other based on whatever project it is. And that's been working well so far because we have so much less of an emotional attachment to the project, but can hold more of an objective view while the other person is really in the weeds trying to get it done.

But yeah, it's something that I think people should, if they're in a similar position or could be in a similar position, should think about because not everyone can do that. You know some people they're going to put art first and their career first no matter what.

ZO:

Yep. The Art Monster. There's a book about that by Jenny Offil.

And it's about like, artists, two artists in a relationship, and art takes over the other person's life, and she calls it the Art Monster. Because art can be very consuming, especially when you get an idea and you get like—I don't know about you—but I get very hyper focused on the idea, and it can take time to see a project through.

And it took you a year to do your thesis. Was there anything going on in your life that kind of got in the way of that? Or maybe enhanced it?

EB:

Yes. It was very, very difficult. The time in between my second year and my third year was one of the hardest years of my life. I almost left the program. I almost didn't finish. I had to change advisors. That was a good thing that I did do it. But the fact that I had to do it was incredibly challenging because I already felt like a fish out of water.

But I got through it and it does take a hell of a lot of discipline. Like it's getting in the studio, staring at the wall for hours, like at what you've done to figure out what it means. And that does something. Like that's work. It's not time wasted that I've learned.

It's okay to do that.

ZO:

Thinking—who would have thought? I did this like habit building app in 2020. And one of the habits that it gave me was to sit for 30 minutes and just think, to not write anything down. Not be distracted. To just think. And man, ideas would just pop.

You know, it's like you have to give yourself that silence for things to rise up out of the well. And it's hard to do that when there's so many distractions.

You were talking about how you almost quit. What brought you back to art? What made you want to be like, all right. I'm back in it.

EB:

Other than the sheer, I need to finish the degree otherwise I'm gonna be pissed at myself. Other than that, once I got over that hump, it was community, honestly. Like, things started to click when I started asking my peers for their opinions on the art as opposed to just my professors.

My professors and mentors. Like, asking my friends who are not artists but have similar identities to me—like they got it. So I was like, oh, wait a second, this is what's happening is I'm just not speaking their language. Like I'm not speaking Professor So-and-So's language. Who doesn't have nearly the same experience as I do, but I am speaking my friend Tracy's language.

ZO:

Shout out to Tracy.

EB:

Oh yeah, she’d love this. And like these other friends I have where I was like, oh, wait a second. I'm actually potentially starting a new conversation or not starting a new conversation, but continuing one that is not as acknowledged by the greater fine arts world. That being neurodivergence, I would say is, I think, the biggest thread related to that.

ZO:

Are there any other projects you're working on right now? Are there any new themes you're exploring?

EB:

I am trying to figure that out. I'm actually still doing some of the similar work I'm doing—like the mixed media with the pink because it can just keep flowing. But I have semblances of smaller things on the side to see what's going to happen.

I would say right now they have a lot to do with more so with the nostalgia of growing up in the early 2000. Things to do with like dreams that have to do with my childhood and cartoons, kids pics and stuff like that.

ZO:

What do you think draws you to connecting with your childhood?

What about that like really makes you want to create something based around that?

EB:

I think because it's so complex. People's childhoods. Like everyone's childhood is complex. And art is like one of the only things that can synthesize childhood, because it can adopt all of those nuances. And kind of like I said before, I think I make best when I’m doing it personally, you know.

Which is something that's a double edged sword because then in a way, I'm opening up myself for criticism instead of the work only.

ZO:

Scary. Very scary.

EB:

I don't know—detaching myself from the work—I don't know how people do it. You know, like making a painting about, the river or something.

I don't know, something that's so much more external, like it just seems so difficult to me. When something as intimate as my childhood is something I just know.

ZO:

Childhood is definitely a big inspiration for my art. When I was getting back into visual arts, I would pretend that I was a five year old.

I feel like when you're five, that's your true self. That's my theory, at least, because that's before you enter into the educational system. It’s before you're told what to do by peers, teachers, parents. And so just like reconnecting with little five year old Zack, like, I have pictures of him around the house and just to honor him and it's always a fount of inspiration and it gets me back to childlike wonder, which I think is just magic.

Are there any other ways that you gain inspiration? Like what do you consume or what kind of habits do you do to keep it going?

EB:

Yeah. I knew you were going to ask something along that.

I definitely go in waves, which is like why it's a tough question. So I'm very much in a rut right now not having a studio space anymore, being in my parents’ house. I would say, what I do do is *both laugh*

—I always try not to laugh—so I'm glad you laugh.

What I often do when I get an idea, I immediately write it down in my phone. And a lot of the times, those ideas will come when I'm falling asleep. I just have to wake up and write it down. But it often times it's the money idea.

And then I think also when I'm actually in the studio creating, I gotta have a comfort show. Podcast or music and then some sort of nourishment which is usually tea or coffee or something.

ZO:

Nice. I love that. I definitely have to have something going on when I'm painting, but when I'm writing it has to be like completely silent.

It's interesting—if I get too overstimulated while I'm writing, I can't think, but like I have to have something going on when I'm doing something with my hands. I just love that. So last question. If you had all the resources in the world, what would be your dream project?

EB:

Oh, I know—making really cool short films. Like, I have this one film idea that I really want to make, and I think when we eventually move to LA, there's always just so much filmmaking resources around. You trade labor is what I've been told. You know, I'll help you with your film if you help me with mine type of thing.

And so I'm hoping when I get there, I have this one film script in mind that is about queerness about masking queerness and safe queer spaces versus not. Things like that that I would really love to produce that film.

So I think, yeah, being able to produce high quality films and not just like me struggling on the video camera by myself. That's the dream.

ZO:

Will Miss Bubblegum ever make an appearance again?

EB:

I hope so.

ZO:

Me too. I would love that. Maybe she can get her own podcast.

EB:

That’s an idea.

ZO:

Yeah, that would be fun. I would listen to that.

Well, thank you so much, Emily, for coming. I can't wait to see what you do. And see all your dreams come to fruition in Los Angeles. I think you'll fit in perfectly there. And, you know, paint the town hot pink.

Where to find Emily

Instagram: @ejankburk

Website: www.emilyburkhead.com