Hailing from the Midwest, Laura moved to Arizona when she was 18 and completed her BFA at Arizona State University. She has exhibited work at numerous solo and group exhibitions in downtown Phoenix and completed several public murals across the Valley of the Sun. Best works mainly on found domestic objects such as silver platters, teacups, muffin trays, and old metal irons. In an interview with the Phoenix Art Museum, Best said, “I love reusing objects and giving them a new purpose and life. Found objects come to me with more history than a blank canvas.” Using these objects as the foundation for her work, the artist explores the complex and challenging relationship between the desert environment of the southwest, human impact on the landscape, and the emotions associated with addressing climate change.
Is there a specific person or school that influenced you to be an artist?
I knew I wanted to be an artist from about age ten. I discovered that I could draw well and started drawing from still lifes around the house. I filled up sketchbooks and drew portraits of friends and family. My mom has always been creative and leaned towards the arts, she recognized and encouraged my practice from an early age. I loved doing it and knew I wanted to be an artist when I grew up.
What was the inspiration for this piece?
This piece, “Trickle Down Ecologics”, represents a really important transition in my work. I have been working with oil paint on found objects for a long time, but this was the first time I went with the flow of the mirage in the desert landscape and broke out of the painting plane onto a separate object. It may seem like a small thing but it was a paradigm shift to my way of approaching my paintings. The inspiration came from the mirage, I had been playing with the idea of the inferior mirage for awhile, this is specifically the mirage we can see practically every day of the year on the paved roads in the Valley. It is an optical phenomenon, meaning you can see it and photograph it, but nobody else can see the mirage you see. It often appears to be water on the horizon, like a tantalizing promise of resources that you can run toward forever but never reach. That concept really resonates with me and I use it as a metaphor for climate change and looking at how resources are utilized in the Sonoran desert and southwest. In this image the melting point starts with the mirage at the horizon of the highway and the landscape then appears to turn liquid and melt from there until the imagery starts to lose detail and is reduced back to its original state of paint.
What drew you to the urban landscapes that you often use in your paintings?
I really started critically looking at the urban landscape about 18 years ago. I'd been out painting the natural landscape far away from the realities of the urban environment. When I came home I found myself analyzing the supposedly unsightly landmarks of a city landscape, like telephone poles and powerlines that project into our picturesque Southwest sunsets. I found that I would rather approach them unflinchingly and accept them into my everyday view of the landscape. Since then the urban landscape has provided endless challenges in my work, it has made me evaluate resources and what is valued most in a landscape.
How have your experiences as Exhibitions Manager at SMoCA affected your artwork?
I've been working in a museum for almost 15 years, and it's fair to say that my perception of space was altered since day one. As soon as I started to install other people's artwork I started to look at my own differently. I began to see my paintings less as individual objects and more as parts of larger installations. Now when I approach making new work for an exhibition I think beyond the process and subject matter and make it for its intended space. It's a good practice to think of the life of an artwork beyond the studio.
Have you noticed any changes in the local arts scene recently?
I've been connected to the local arts scene for almost 20 years now, it's always shifting and changing. I've been part of studio spaces and galleries that were artist-run, and seen the boom that followed a lot of individuals' efforts and commitments. The beautiful, painful irony of developers seeing the value of an arts district and the downturns that permanently closed spaces. There have been a lot of special spaces that are no longer around but are no less important. Each gallery or pop up may have had a fleeting time in the sun but those little creative factories still leave ripples in the local art scene. I think the local art scene always stands on the shoulders of artists, their passion, commitment and selflessness. For me it has become less about the arts district and more about experimental spaces. These can be anywhere, any gallery or pop up or outdoor venue can be the perfect setting for new work, I'm a firm believer in putting in what you want to get out of an exhibition, and sometimes the best people to manage these opportunities are artists themselves.
How does planning murals differ from planning smaller scale works? In what ways is the process similar?
I absolutely love switching between teeny tiny paintings to larger than life murals. It's funny, but the process feels very similar to me. The way I approach a detailed oil painting is similar to the way I execute a large mural. The relationship and proportion of brushstrokes and paint makes a lot of sense to me. I think it is a good exercise to shift scale in that way. When I'm stuck on a project in the studio the best way to get out of my head is to step out of my comfort zone into a mural that forces me to use my whole body to paint and recalibrate my way of thinking. I've come to consider murals as an important part of my practice, they invariably change the course of my work and signal a new direction that I will chase until the next one appears.