Art Convo with Moises Salazar: Softness as Liberation

Moises Salazar, Glamorous, 2021, glitter on board, faux fur, yarn. Courtesy of artist & Mindy Solomon Gallery.

In Moises Salazar’s (they/them) recent exhibit at Mindy Solomon, Puto El Último, the beautiful brown figures depicted in their vibrant mixed media works resist masculinity. The subjects exist as femme and carefree, finding joy in rest. Puto El Último marks Salazar’s debut show with the Miami-based gallery, where they unpacked the multiplicty of their identities — being queer, non-binary, first-gen, and Mexicanx — thoughtfully on the canvas. The show’s name, Puto El Último, reveals its homophobic connotation within Mexican and larger Latinx culture. Because, all too often, toxic machismo is familiar territory for those of us raised in Latinx communities. The phrase is meant to taunt “men'' who aren’t “macho” enough, and ostracizes their perceived “weakness.” Salazar, a Chicago-raised artist who grew up in a Mexican immigrant household, both celebrates and investigates their otherness. The ways in which they were othered in a cis-hetero Latinx family and as a brown, queer non-binary person othered in white, cis-hetero power structures in the U.S.

In Puto El Último, the School of the Art Institute of Chicago alum (‘20), incorporates flashy elements like glitter, faux fur, and yarn in the 10 mixed media works. And it’s very visually seductive. In Murió la Flor (2021), the single figure feels romantic in their solitude, adorned with red roses. In Que Calor (2021), a brown nude figure indulges in the fullness of their body and in nature. There’s a visual rhythm present in Salazar’s work, it flows from the sensorial, to the sensual, and praises softness. There’s a very pretty softness found in the tactility of the pieces, and Salazar’s gorgeous queer subjects embrace softness as liberation. In a generous and candid conversation, Salazar shares how they’re leaning into healing, the pleasure in being a maximalist with their art practice, and why anyone can find themselves in their faceless colorful subjects.

Jasmin Hernandez: How’s your summer going? And what self-care practices have helped you remain focused and present with your art?

Moises Salazar: My summer has been great! I’m very lucky to have several opportunities to showcase my work, so I've been busy in my studio. I actually fractured my ankle last August and had to get surgery. So, I've been in a self-care mindset for the past year. I was in and out of physical therapy for months. It was a strange time to experience that time of the year while being bedridden. It allowed me to just focus on healing. After I learned to walk again, I was ready to just get back to work. I think that I appreciate being able to work in my studio because I wasn’t able to do it before.

Moises Salazar, Que Calor, 2021, glitter on board, faux fur. Courtesy of artist & Mindy Solomon Gallery.

JH: Your brown queer figures are faceless and are depicted with tender gestures and poses. How do you feel that you address safety and intimacy in your work?

MS: My figures are faceless because I want folks to identify with my work. I depict images of intimacy, tenderness, and safety because we should all be open to talk about our needs and how we expect to be treated by people around us. I didn’t feel like I could express my needs when I was younger, and it landed me in tough situations. I ended up experiencing abuse and trauma in past relationships because I didn’t know I could ask for what I wanted. For that reason, I address consent, intimacy, tenderness and safety in my work as a way to advocate for it.

JH: Your aesthetic is fantastical and very vibrant, and you use materials such as clay, paper mache, glitter and crochet. What freedom do you find in these tools combined with your bright color palette?

MS: I used to overthink my practice all the time. I think because now I use things like glitter, yarn, paper mache and clay, I don’t anymore. I let the material exist and I love all the textures that these materials can produce. When I step back and look at the pieces all together, I think “this is fabulous!” I don’t worry too much how the work is going to end up because I’m having fun making it. I’m honestly obsessed with the materials and colors I use.

Moises Salazar, Llévame contigo, 2021, glitter on canvas, yarn. Courtesy of artist & Mindy Solomon Gallery.

JH: In Puto El Último, you unapologetically show brown queer figures resisting masculinity and investing in rest and femme expression. Why was this critical to show?

MS: I keep wanting to make work for my younger self. I keep wanting to tell my younger self that it’s okay and that you don’t have to change for the people around you. I’ve been reflecting so much these past few months about family and my childhood, so it felt natural to make this exhibition. My family no longer says “puto” around me because I put my foot down, but I keep thinking about all the other Latinx children growing up hearing these things and feeling like there’s something wrong with them. I now understand that it’s okay to be femme, and it’s okay to not listen to your uncles, cousins, siblings, and parents.

JH: Also, in Puto El Último, there are so many auto-biographical elements at play, your queer and non-binary identity, being first-gen, your Mexicanness, and Brownness. How did you navigate in deciding what parts of yourself you decided to share?

MS: I’m a person that needs to talk about my challenges as I’m experiencing them. As I reflect on things then it naturally shows up in my work. I’m the kind of person that puts it all on the table. I sometimes make separate bodies of work that explore a specific aspect of my identity because I want to be an artist that can participate in a broad range of conversations.

Moises Salazar, Murió la Flor, 2021, tufted carpet, yarn. Courtesy of artist & Mindy Solomon Gallery.

JH: The mixed-media pieces in Puto El Último use glitter, faux fur, and yarn. Works like Dumped (2021) and Glamorous (2021) feel tactile, soft, and inviting for the viewer. Can you talk about creating this soothing visual experience?

MS: I love feeling glamorous and I think that’s something universal. Regardless of gender, age, and sexual expression, we all love feeling our best and that’s what I’m trying to express in my work. As children I think we’re taught to not stand out or cause attention to ourselves, but I think we should do the opposite. That’s why I put so much emphasis on creating a tactile experience. I want my work to stand out and I pull out all the stunts to do it. I’m a person that if I’m asked, “don’t you think that's too much?”, I add twenty new things.

JH: In another series, Cuerpos Desechables, you portray Mexican and other Latinx immigrants’ inhumane conditions in U.S. detention centers. The brown figures are portrayed as piñatas, which really illustrates the ferocious harm Latinx immigrants and separated families face. Can you expand on this series?

MS: In Cuerpos Desechables, the bodies I represent are immigrant bodies in detention centers. They’re installed in a way that’s representative of the poor living conditions people face when they’re detained. I chose to represent children because of the surge of unaccompanied minors found at the border. Universally, we accept that children are innocent, and we have a moral obligation to protect them, yet they’re treated as criminals and left to suffer in our detention centers. I use piñatas because we socially accept that they must go through an action of violence, and I find similar parallels to the immigrant experience. None of my piñatas will ever be destroyed because I want to combat the narrative of the expectation of violence.

JH: What’s next for 2021 that you’re excited to share?
MS: In August, I’ll be in a show at Co-Prosperity in Chicago about quinceañeras, and an upcoming presentation at Soho Beach House in September. In October, I will also be in a two-person show at REGULARNORMAL in New York. I’m so excited!!!

This interview originally appeared on The Latinx Project’s Intervenxions in August 2021.