You don’t see physical comics today as often as you would have even a decade ago, yet cartoons by the grandfather of visual arts alum Bella Briganti ’23 were a monumental factor in her decision to pursue professional artistry—along with a little classic sibling competition. Familial motivations and arts education through high school led Briganti to CAM, where she brought forth a diverse portfolio comprised of realistic oil paintings, biological illustrations, and postcards annexed by 80s adages like “tubular”. Rad on-campus work opportunities with the Emmanuel Art Gallery offered Briganti the chance to curate exhibitions and volunteer as a performer for a contemporary performance artist. Last summer, Briganti interned at the Museum of Contemporary Art (MCA) and expanded her connections in Denver’s creative world. The internship also put her in front of the museum’s board of donors. Though life has been mellow lately, a grant from the board will soon enable her to complete a series with the Oracle Dance Ensemble based on her human-form-entwining BFA thesis, “Carrier Pigeons.

1. Where do you tend to find inspiration for a new series?

My work is a way to visually and physically contend with my thoughts and struggles. Most of my visuals come from various other media I consume like music videos, movies, or comics, but more conceptual ideas come from revelations I have in and out of therapy sessions. From those, I’ll create a mind map on a sketchbook page and make snap associations to form a web of concepts or visuals to draw upon for the composition. Even if the concept gets obscured by the visual, I don’t mind. It leaves the work up to further interpretation for the viewer and won’t end up cliché. 

2. How do you prepare when exploring new subjects or mediums? Which of your skills has transferred best between them?

Typically, when I try something new, I’ll do some research on the medium and its history—nothing extensive, just the basics. I’ll write some notes on it and how it could correlate with my idea before moving on to make some mood boards through Pinterest, as silly as that might seem. Sometimes I’ll do tests in my sketchbook with the new medium to help me get a foothold and prevent mistakes later when I make the actual piece. 
I’ve found my ability to “flatten space” has transferred best. When I step back, squint, or take off my glasses, it’s much easier to translate what I’m trying to put on the canvas. It’s easy to get caught up in the finer details of manipulating the medium when you’re using a reference image, so it’s helpful to remind yourself: What are its simplest forms? Where is the light hitting strongest? Where are the darkest shadows.

3. What did you look for when curating an exhibit covering the work of car designer and graphic artist Ed Roth? 

The pieces we chose were mostly from the official Ed Roth Museum in Manti, Utah. Our overall goal was to display how Roth’s work informed pop culture as we know it today, from graphic t-shirts to underground comics to custom car culture. We tried to include a wide range of objects that embody this evolution in tandem with Roth’s works so viewers could see the dialogue between them. I personally looked for items that were thematically and visually traceable to other works I knew would be in the show. A good example would be the t-shirt wall, where we had shirts with Roth’s ‘Rat Fink’ designs next to shirts from bands and skateboard brands. The designs had similar motifs but still showed how the ideas shifted and evolved to become what we are more familiar with now. 

4. When you volunteered for performance artist Oliver Herring, were there parts of his process that struck you as a more traditional visual artist?

The project with Oliver was one of the first experiences I’ve had working with an active, successful contemporary artist. From my perspective, his process was very intuitive, gestural, and focused on the movement of the human body; all concepts I rely on in my own process. Though I still plan things out, I try not to hold myself to any set outcome to keep the work fluid and genuine. I distinctly remember eating lunch with Oliver and talking about what makes visual art important throughout its meaning and production. He said that creating visual work without meaning is just design aesthetics—a form of art in its own right, but different from what Herring makes. 
I don’t know if Oliver would agree with me on my interpretations of his process, but I felt like the bottom line was to keep things expressive and to allow your work to evolve as you create it. Something cool will happen eventually. 

5. How did your MCA internship help you gain understanding of the art world at large?

It was definitely an eye opener. I was already familiar with the idea that ‘it’s not what you do, it’s who you know,’ but the internship really solidified this for me. Networking is a necessity, as unfortunate as that is for those of us who are uncomfortable with meeting new people sometimes. The best way to approach it is to not treat it like networking, but rather as making new friends. It’s important to note you shouldn’t be fake about it or have the sole intention of getting something personally beneficial out of them. The friendships formed should be genuine, and anything past that is just a bonus. For example, I’m now collaborating with my friend Ha Pham, who I met through the MCA internship, for her magazine, Girl Pervert. I didn’t approach my friendship with Ha intending to get work. I was just interested in her as a person. 
Putting yourself out there is tough, but it’s imperative to being seen and the connections you’ll form are well worth it.