

Today we’d like to introduce you to Reva Santo.
Every artist has a unique story. Can you briefly walk us through yours?
I come from a family of artists and activists, so I was fortunate to be surrounded by music, dance, visual art and creativity from a young age. My parents always encouraged us to be experimental, whether that be painting on our own bodies, creating houses out of cardboard boxes, or turning file folders into spy computers. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t surrounded by creativity, and I’m grateful that I was nurtured in an environment that encouraged me to see art as a mode of life, rather than anything about competition or success. My first real love was probably photography. I remember a family friend gifting me a small polaroid that would print rectangular photo stickers. As I grew up, I was able to cultivate my multi-media creative curiosities in classroom settings. In high school, I started writing screenplays to keep me busy when I was bored in class. I decided that I was curious about filmmaking because it seemed like the best way to combine all of the different things that I liked into one medium. When I actually got to college, I was scared to commit to the field because people kept telling me how cutthroat the industry was, so I briefly thought about going into something “practical” like law instead. I remember my mom asking me, “what do you do when you have nothing else to do?” She basically told me to pay attention to my creative impulses, and I’m grateful for that encouragement. I ended up majoring in Film Studies where I got to nerd out about obscure films for homework, it was great. I consider myself a multi-media artist because I believe that art is about following those impulses, and would prefer not to limit myself to form just because other folks find it more digestible. Ultimately, I’ve realized that no one has the map to anyone else’s journey, and have tried to block other people’s projections from influencing the decisions that I make for my own life.
Please tell us about your artwork.
Growing up a child of immigrants, I have always felt a connection to my ancestors across the globe. Their stories and memories live in my body and are the basis for much of my artistic inquiry. My roots also connect me to an awareness of globalized inequality based on race, gender, sexuality, class, disability, citizenship, and so forth. As such, I aim to create art that engages these issues by addressing the underlying energetic and historical legacies that sustain them.
Much of my work has sought that which gets lost in the in-between. In transit, across oceans, throughout time, many of my ancestral stories lie in the shadows waiting to be heard and interpreted. This is what I listen for. I research and delve deeper into those unseen spaces and I seek similarities and intersections across the diaspora.
My art-making practice is a constant ritual of unearthing, listening, and interpreting. My goal is to create radical counter-memories to dominant narratives. As my practice evolves, I find myself increasingly drawn to places of discomfort. As I draw deeper into my own fear, and into ancestral and intimate trauma, I also find more space for healing. Art is the vehicle through which I am best able to do so—for myself, for my family, for my communities.
What do you think is the biggest challenge facing artists today?
All of the artists I know struggle with two main things: 1. Finding financial stability. 2. Maintaining a sense of authenticity in a world that is so interested in clout. In order to achieve the former sometimes requires artists to sell themselves or promote themselves in ways that don’t always feel great. Our society isn’t set up to support artists, and because the hustle is so real we end up pitting ourselves against one another because we are afraid that there isn’t room for all of us to be successful. We get stuck in a scarcity mindset, and I think it impacts our ability to create the things that might matter most. Not to mention, the struggle to find financial stability can prevent us from creating anything at all. Many of us are working full time as artists for no pay. We’re our own managers, our own agents, our own publicity team (I’m referencing this great Spongebob meme I saw the other day) and on top of that, we’re working part-time or full time on the side just to pay the bills. So, we’re burnt out and exhausted and hard on ourselves when we’re not able to create the way that we want to. It’s a real struggle.
How or where can people see your work? How can people support your work?
People can check out my work at www.revasanto.com, and sign up there for my newsletter to stay up to date on upcoming projects and exhibitions. You can follow me on IG @revasanto or on twitter @reva_spirit. Im the founder of honey & smoke, a global artist community and hub (which I run with my badass business partner and fellow artist Eilen Itzel Mena)— you can find us @_honeyandsmoke_
I’m also currently developing a short film called Trust Issues so you can support my current creative endeavor by following us @trustissuesmovie on Instagram and/or donating to the campaign through the link in our bio!
I have some written pieces currently published through syla.studio, Honey and Smoke, and TOAN Mag. Shouts out to these emerging creative spaces trying to cultivate community!
People can support my work by reposting my stories/art on social media (with a tag of course) or by purchasing my art through my website. I also am a great public speaker, so if you want to get me on your panels about art-making or healing practices, please reach out!
Contact Info:
- Website: www.revasanto.com
- Instagram: revasanto
- Twitter: reva_spirit
- Other: IG : @trustissuesmovie
Image Credit:
Portrait of the artist by Nina Bracey, BTS shot by Erin Ramirez
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