In "The Library of Babel," Jorge Luis Borges posits a library as infinitely complex as the universe. Libraries, with books alpha-numerically ordered on rows of shelves, suggest neat consensus and completeness, but as no physical library can replicate Borges' philosophical construct, a library is an ongoing, open conversation. Appropriately enough, the first two English language translations of "The Library of Babel" appeared almost simultaneously–real libraries are spaces of debate and possibility. Published since 1884, the Oxford English dictionary recently declared "post-truth" to be the international word of the year for 2016. Registering the weird irony that this vaunted compendium of knowledge should officially acknowledge the irrelevance of objectivity in public discourse, my most recent screen prints on paper are an interrogation of material culled from books and printed ephemera. These prints are not a validation of Trumpian, post-truth society but model an active engagement with arguments past and present. I aspire to make compositions that are stately but awkward, the arrangements of images suggestive of something temporary, tenuous, ready to come apart or be rearranged. The many halftone screens that comprise these images break down under closer scrutiny. The commercial printing of the source material confers a veneer of truth, like the order of a library, but the repurposing and recombination highlights the incompleteness and permeability of our knowledge base. The slight imperfections in registration that are a byproduct of hand-printing point to the flaws and gaps in any text or document. My prints are an attempt to enter into dialog with print culture, scanning and photographing old material, arranging and rearranging it on a computer screen and returning it to print through another screen, the mesh of a silk screen. I hope we will never be post-truth as long as the search for knowledge is viewed as an ongoing process, an ever open conversation stretching through time.


NINA GHANBARZADEH was born and raised in Tehran, Iran. She obtained her Bachelor of Science degree in chemistry from Pune University, India in 1989. She immigrated to the United States in 2001 and received her Bachelor of Fine Arts degree from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee with a focus in fine art and graphic design in 2013. She recently completed two years in RedLine Milwaukee’s artist in residency program. RedLine is an urban arts laboratory that seeks to nourish the individual practice of contemporary art and also provide access to art to diverse communities. She is also part of Material Studios and Gallery in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

Ghanbarzadeh has participated in a number of group shows in Wisconsin. She is the recipient of Mary L. Nohl Suitcase Export Fund, Student Silver ADDY and Fredric R. Layton Foundations Scholarship Awards. She is also a teaching artist and has been involved in many workshops, lectures, and presentations. | CV


Inspiration (Backstory)

The following questions are intended to provide insight into the artist's process, how they got started and what inspires them.

Was there a person or event that got you started creating your art? Does that person or event continue to influence the work that you do?

NG: No there was not any person or event that got me started. But when I was a student at UWM, my daughter had been a big inspiration for many of the ideas behind my works. I often ask her opinion on what I make.

EK: In 1992, when I was eight or nine years old, my dad got a giant copy machine for his home office, and I immediately started using it to photocopy my drawings. They were just ballpoint pen drawings I was copying, making them smaller or larger, and it wasn't until decades later, when I was an adult, that I realized how early I'd been set on the path to becoming a printmaker. I'm still trying to figure out what's so compelling about seeing an image reproduced, all the meaning that can be wrung out of these processes. The history of print is so rich and varied, from fine art to books to bus transfers, and maybe that's what makes it so inviting and welcoming, that a kid can unwittingly find himself making prints on a copy machine in the basement.

At what point did you consider yourself an artist?

NG: I was in the fifth grade that I realized how much I loved making art. I was too young then to decide if I wanted to be an artist or not. I just knew that I enjoyed making drawings and paintings. It wasn't after I graduated from high school that I decided to become an artist. But unfortunately I never had the opportunity to attend an art school. Instead I got a bachelor's degree in chemistry, but I never pursued it as my career.

EK: I think I finally considered myself an artist when I started selling and trading zines at festivals around the Midwest and mailing them around the globe. Zines are small, handmade books, and they can really be anything. They're cheap to make, but no one gets rich making them. You make something you want to see in the world, and people who read and make zines–they're often one and the same–understand the love and dedication that goes into them. It was a very welcoming community, and I was able to see myself as an artist in relation to this diverse community of people I considered artists as well.

Who or what inspires you and why?

NG: As I explained in question number one, my daughter was a big influence on my earlier works. The mother-in-me would make art at that time! But generally speaking, I get inspired by listening to music, looking at magazines or photographs. I often find ideas in the least expected places. Once I was attending one of the lecture series at UWM, which is on Wednesday evenings. The guest speaker was from the Netherlands and had a thick accent. As I was listening to her, I started thinking about my own challenges switching in between Farsi (my mother tongue) and English and trying to speak correctly. Then suddenly an idea sparked in my head and I immediately made a quick sketch and later worked on it in my studio. It was a well received drawing.

EK: Really broadly, I'm inspired by books and printed matter, the stuff and ideas around me. I always start working as a sort of conversation. Sometimes, I'm trying to process a text I'm reading, thinking about nature writers like Rachel Carson or Aldo Leopold, performing a kind of seance, trying to figure out what lessons they can still teach in the 21st century. Other times, current events feel much more pressing, but of course it's all connected. Our relationship to nature is a recurring thread, examining and critiquing the human drive to control, the hubris that often characterizes our movements on this planet. The earth seems limitless, but like our own lives, is fragile and finite. Our big brains are our best asset and greatest liability, and I hope my work points to better, less selfish ways of being.

What was the first piece of art you made? Do you remember why you made it? What materials did you use and why?

NG: I don’t remember what was my first art. I remember making a lot of crafts when I was younger. I did a lot of knitting, sewing, bead works, paper crafts but I would not call them art. Why I made them? I liked making things for myself and others. I remember enjoying designing and purchasing materials for my crafts.

EK: When I was very young, I wasn't precious about the art I made, so I made lots of it–stacks and stacks of drawings, never fancy. I think that's why books and works in series are still exciting to me, because no one image needs to have all the answers. You can go back and edit the mess later. One page or one picture is just part of a conversation.

Are there any programs or learning opportunities that you wish you had as a young artist?

NG: Yes. I wish that I would have taken some English and writing classes. I had no clue that good writing is crucial to the art practice. I would also take more photography and philosophy classes.

EK: The art programs and classes I attended when I was young were very focused on learning skills–teaching you to be a better drawer or painter or whatever. I wish I had found something more focused on fostering community and collaboration. The concept that you first need to learn a set of skills and then you can use them to express ideas is sort of strange and old-fashioned, I realize now. The ideas can totally come first.

What would you say to a young person to encourage their study and practice of art?

NG: Have regular studio hours and keep on making art. Never get rid of your early works. Make an archive of the art that you make regardless of their flaws or mistakes.

EK: If I could give one piece of advice to a young person who's excited about art, I would tell them to look for opportunities to share their work and their practice. They make art because it makes them happy, but you never know what it can do until you extend it beyond yourself. Share it online, make copies of it, give it away. Talk to people. Sign up for classes and workshops and look for ways to collaborate. This is good advice for anyone, myself included.