If you’re looking for American artist Shannon Rankin, she’s probably either cutting and folding maps, or she’s cutting and folding vellum. And if she’s not cutting or folding anything, that probably means that she is outside, taking long walks and breathing in the fresh air of Rangeley, Maine, where she now lives. In 1997, she received a bachelor of fine arts degree from Maine College of Art in Portland, Maine, and has gone on to create some stunning, large-scale cut-paper installations, along with a huge number of smaller pieces. She has exhibited nationally and internationally, and her work is included in private and public collections all over the world.
JC—Describe the first moment that you truly felt like an artist.
SR—About twelve years ago I made a conscious decision to dedicate my life to making artwork. I’ve always been creative, but it wasn’t until I began exhibiting my work that I truly felt like an artist.
JC—What was it that made you make that jump? How did you do it? Did you have a plan?
SR—I worked as a graphic designer for a few years following art school. After some time passed, I simply realized that I wanted to make my own work. I found an affordable studio and gave myself permission to make anything, without question. I experimented with various materials and just allowed myself to play. The only plan I had was to dedicate as much time as I possibly could to working in the studio.
JC—What keeps you motivated and making?
SR—There are many struggles being an artist, but I think the thing that keeps me going is the never-ending search for some glimpse of what I already know. For me, making art is a process of remembering, and I feel like I am slowly beginning to piece the puzzle together.
JC—Would you ever want to be anything other than an artist?
SR—Fortunately, as an artist I am able to explore my varied interests through the research for and making of my work. If I weren’t an artist I might be happy as an astronomer, psychologist, geologist, dancer, physical therapist, cartographer, herbalist, healer, farmer, or archeologist.
JC—Is there an artist that truly inspires you—who and why?
SR—The work of Cindy Sherman has always been a huge inspiration to me. I’m envious of what seems to be a kind of freedom she has with her work and process.
JC—Are you bothered by creative blocks?
SR—No. I savor when the creativity flows, and know that if I’m blocked, it will eventually pass. It’s important to keep pushing through, to keep working. If that doesn’t work, I get out of the studio for a while and take a walk.
JC—What do you do if you’re having trouble with a specific project?
SR—I have a large range of interests, but I have narrowed them down to a few bodies of work. I typically work in one direction or medium at a time, but if I’m stumped in one direction, I can easily switch to a new one. I prefer working with something immediate, if possible. I will often give myself a goal to finish a series, which can help take the preciousness out of the material and keep things moving. Occasionally I will continue to work even if I despise what I am making. I do this in hopes that something in the process will resurface and inform future work.
JC—So, do you always persevere on your projects?
SR—No, if I create something that doesn’t work for me, I usually toss it. If it’s reworkable or if I can use the parts in some fashion, I will. Otherwise, I don’t typically rework pieces. It either works or it doesn’t. Sometimes there are works in progress that are at an in-between stage. They are often set aside and looked at later after some time “stewing.”
JC—Do you ever equate your self-worth with your artistic successes?
SR—No. I know that my creativity is ever evolving. I just have to trust and be patient with the unfolding. . . . I think the key is to make what you love, and the successes will present themselves.
JC—Are you open to criticism?
SR—Constructive criticism is always welcome, even though I’ve been known to be a little sensitive. I love hearing different perspectives.
JC—What’s the best bit of constructive criticism that you’ve ever been given?
SR—I was told by an art critic to allow more chaos into my work. I’m trying to listen. . . .
JC—Do you ever hear your inner critic?
SR—Always! I try to remain open to taking risks in my work because I know that failure can often lead to something amazing. So, I remind myself to move through by quieting my mind. Yoga and meditation help.
JC—When do your best ideas come to you?
SR—Anytime! Nature walks always help, but often it’s late at night and I’m in the studio. I surround myself with all of my varied interests, words, and visuals. This helps trigger new ideas!
JC—How do you feel when your creativity is truly flowing—do you refer to it by name?
SR—These moments are what I live for! I call these “glimpses of insight and bliss” and “white moments.” It’s as if time stops when I’m “in the zone,” lost and fully immersed.
I try to remain open to taking risks in my work because I know that failure can often lead to something amazing.
