Today we’d like to introduce you to B. Justine Jaime.
Alright, so thank you so much for sharing your story and insight with our readers. To kick things off, can you tell us a bit about how you got started?
I’m a native Angeleno—my family has been here for three/ four generations. I grew up all over LA County until my parents moved us to Long Beach just before I started third grade. Long Beach is an incredibly diverse and culturally rich city, with a unique art and music scene. When we first landed there in the mid-to-late ’90s, we moved into a house just off 4th Street, near Retro Row. Every day, I’d see the coolest looking people walking around—all creatives of some sort—and from a young age I just intrinsically knew that I was an artist.
I threw myself into everything creative— dance, drawing, painting, singing. I was the type of kid who didn’t shy away from trying new things, and took any opportunity to stand out. I loved both performance and visual art, and was lucky to have teachers that encouraged self expression and valued art education. In fifth grade I took my first real photography class and locked in. I already felt ahead of the other students because, for as far back as I can remember, I’ve always been encouraged to take photographs. Some of my earliest memories are of my mom giving me a Minnie Mouse 35mm point and shoot when I was around four years old, and my grandparents putting a vintage Canon A-E1 in my hands at age eight.
Although my parents acknowledged I was talented, they weren’t on board with me attending the 7th-12th grade school of arts that I so desperately wanted to go to, nor did they support pursuing art school right after high school. I really had to figure out my own path, so I enrolled at Long Beach City College with the intention of transferring. I was amazed to discover their expansive photography department, spread across two campuses, with separate darkrooms for black and white as well as color. I was all in. I took just about every photo class they offered, started building my portfolio, and developed my aesthetic.
In the beginning, I was a film purist. I loved the whole process—choosing film stock, camera formats, developing negatives, and the many methods of printing by hand. I found one instructor in particular who really resonated with me. He was a conceptual photographer whose work explored themes of cultural identity, family, immigration, and politics. He became my first mentor and encouraged me to apply to art school and pursue a BFA in photography.
I fell in love with storytelling through imagery. At the time, I was drawn to the dreamy visuals of Sofia Coppola films, the rawness of photographic works by Nan Goldin, and Francesca Woodman’s eerily surreal self portraits. Coming-of-age narratives and existential themes spoke to me. I developed a style rooted in obscure portraiture, established a color palette, and used the human form and chiaroscuro to tell stories that were dramatic, melancholic, and hauntingly beautiful.
What’s interesting is, when you make art long enough—when you really build a practice around it— your work will reveal things about yourself that you might not fully understand until much later.
At some point, I learned about CalArts, and my mentor recommended I check it out. I brought a selection of prints to portfolio review day and stood in line to have my work critiqued by instructors from various institutions. I was encouraged to apply to several schools, and thought okay, I’m really going to do this! I visited schools in Portland, New York, and Boston, but ultimately, there was only one that truly felt right: CalArts. I applied, was accepted, and my whole life basically changed from there. I truly thrived in that environment—I was challenged, humbled, inspired, and energized. CalArts is a highly experimental and interdisciplinary school, which allowed me to immerse myself in many different modalities of art-making. I took classes in film, poetry, psychoanalysis, philosophy, and art history. I learned about theory, critical thinking, subverting the male gaze, intersectional feminism, and activism. I studied under and befriended some of the most inspirational artists I’ve ever met. I learned how to observe from perspectives beyond my own, and how to apply all of these concepts to inform a creative practice that does so much more than just look good. I took classes like Xicana Feminism, where I learned words and concepts I hadn’t previously known—terms and stories that described experiences I’d had growing up as a Mexican American, which helped connect so many dots around family dynamics and larger socio-political issues.
By the end of my time there, I had built an art practice and thesis that intersected still and moving images, sound, functional sculpture, and immersive exhibition. In January 2015, at the start of my final semester, I teamed up with a friend—a visual artist from the East Coast—and together we co-founded Future Tongue, an art collective and digital publication. Our goal was to demystify the art world by offering an inside look into the studio practices of established, professional artists. This quickly evolved into exhibitions. We wanted to create spaces for us to show our own work as well as feature the artists we interviewed, such as Shepard Fairey, Harry Gamboa Jr, and Maja Ruznic.
We curated our first group show later that year and began building a following—a creative community of people from all backgrounds. We expanded into immersive exhibitions and artists workshops, collaborating with actors, musicians, poets, writers, educators, and activists. Future Tongue was featured in publications like Artsy, The LA Times, and Hypebeast, we were interviewed on podcasts and showed work internationally. It was an incredibly empowering experience, especially coming fresh out of art school.
It was during this time that my love for producing events really began to blossom. I enjoyed the challenge of bringing together my varied skill sets to create meaningful experiences for large audiences. A few years—and a pandemic—later, I began producing events and brand activations for clients like HBO Max. I’ve had some real pinch-me moments, like curating and producing an art show and series of activations at Art Basel Miami. I also produced a series of Pride events in LA, Miami, and New York. Creating events on that scale has been both exhilarating and deeply rewarding.
Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
The path of pursuing a career in the arts is filled with many challenges, crossroads, hard decisions, sacrifices, and inevitable rejection. Over the past decade since graduating, I’ve worked as a Photographer, Video Editor, Graphic Designer, Creative Producer, and have learned the ins and outs of film making, marketing, and event production. Because I genuinely like working on so many different kinds of projects, it’s been both a blessing and a contentious factor in my career thus far. It’s very competitive living and working in Los Angeles, but having roots here has definitely helped. I’m also hyper aware of the particular walls I come up against being a Queer, Indigenous Woman in these spaces. But I’m an optimistic and resilient Chingona, and will never let stereotypes or set backs detour me from following my dreams, creating the life I want to live, and the legacy I intend to leave behind.
Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
I’m often referred to as a Creative Chameleon. Professionally, I’m mostly known as a Photographer, specializing in conceptual portraiture and documentary work featuring artists, musicians and actors. If you’ve seen any of my personal work, you’re familiar with my vibrant, large scale photographic collages and mixed media pieces.
As a close second, I’m also known as an Event Producer. I think of these as various methods of storytelling. My guiding mantra has been ‘the medium is secondary to the story,’ and I intend to keep creating art and experiences that move people, spark inspiration, and elevate consciousness.
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the fact that I’m also known for my hats! I’ve loved wearing them for years, and in 2023 I finally decided to learn the art of Millinery (hat making) and started my own line.
Is there any advice you’d like to share with our readers who might just be starting out?
Just go for it. Don’t worry about having the latest and greatest anything. As long as you keep going, the opportunities will present themselves- and when they don’t, just DYI. Money comes ands goes, so if you’re sole motive is making it rain, you’ll likely burn out. And as cliche as it might sound- don’t give up. It’s okay to take a break, but if you’re passionate about something, keep coming back to it. It’s okay to say no, it’s okay to have a different opinion or perspective. Honor your intuition, and always make space for learning new things. Some of our (seemingly) biggest failures end up being the jumping off point of something far greater than we could have imagined. Surround yourself with people that encourage, motivate and uplift you, especially when you’re feeling down or have nothing new to show for. Community is medicine, stay hydrated, breathe deep and keep moving. You got this.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.bjustinejaime.com
- Instagram: @bjustinejaime
- LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/bjustinejaime
- Other: https://www.jvimehats.com
