For this edition of Artfully Bound, I got to interview Latinx illustrator and Musician Cristy Road Carrera. We discussed Cristy’s inspiration for their art and the reason they rock.
Uzomah: How does your music inspire your art, and how does your art inspire your music?
Cristy: I think my love for both disciplines started at such an early age with so much synchronicity, It always felt inevitable — whether I was relating Cuban art to Cuban music, or rock bands to their album covers. When I got into punk in the early 90’s, the art that was coming from the scene I was drawn to was so beautiful and inspiring to me — the album covers, as well as zines that had art. So that merge of art and music that was so natural in punk really inspired me to blur the lines between the two.
U: Can you talk a little bit about your involvement in the LOUD + CLEAR UK Exhibit!
C: The curator, Nadia Buyse, is an amazing artist and musician who I knew from the punk scene. She curated this show to highlight women and queer artists working on the axis of visual art and music. There was events at the space during the exhibit with music performances and readings, and all of the pieces were different mediums. I got to premiere my current in-progress project, The Rock N Roll Hall of Femme. It was great to be out there, so I booked a few additional shows around the event itself.
U: Do you play music while you create visually?
C: Do you mean play music in the background or my own music? I play music sometimes, I listen to a lot of Cuban Jazz at home… I get overwhelmed when I listen to too much rock music, specifically punk because its so close to home — so I kind of like to be removed from my reality when I work. I watch movies sometimes, other times I go to cafes or parks — Its always important for me to have some kind of element of surprise around me if that makes sense. I can also just look out a window while I work too.
U: What are some tips you can give to future multi-disciplined artists?
C: I think it’s important to give everything you want to do some of your time, in order to truly figure out what you really love Vs what you can capitalize off of, so you can make wise choices and compromises. Making art and starting my career in the 90s really pushed me to choose between punk and shooting for mainstream or financial success on purpose — as opposed to it happening on accident because someone discovers you. The values I gained from punk made me focus on building community and educating through art, and making it because I need to share something, whether its art or music. In punk, writing, and illustrating a zine while also writing songs was a pretty common way of expressing yourself — I represented a specific movement as opposed to one craft. But as I grew, I loved being able to access different people and worlds; and its always an honor to make money off my work; but I found that in order to make more money, I need to either hone the one craft that’s selling the most, and do more stuff like it, at risk of totally change my style or vision. I can't do that — for example, I need to make music even though my tarot deck is much more popular, you know? My music does have success and support, but it just feels like another voice that I can’t live without; even if it’s not paying my bills the way my art does. I think if focusing on marketability works for folks, then do it!! Just never lose sight of the other creative outlets you have.
U: What do you think of how the art and music world addresses and helps to represent LGBTQIA and QTPOC artists?
C: For me, it was vital to have art and music in order to survive. I found every potentially queer or radical voice in art and music, and that’s the stuff that kept me from wanting to disappear or conform. I think the mainstream was struggling for a long time and still is, but there are so many platforms now that offer opinions that can benefit queer people on the margins who are looking for inspiration, or even their own outlet. I think punk was important to me because it was the only place, I felt safe to come out or even question my identity — but the times have changed! There really is a lot of alternative cultures out there, and while I still find it hard as hell to find TRUE connection and community, I also think it's important to find that safety on a smaller scale — in one song or piece of art that inspires you to find that safety in the first place.
U: What are some challenges you have faced as an artist?
C: As I mentioned earlier, I chose punk as my world and where I created because it was the only place I felt like I could be true — but at the same time, it, like any other industry/scene, has displayed the general lack of interest in the narratives of queer women of color, and also abuse survivors. I think when my story got real is when I realized what parts of “punk” were going to hold me, as well as what institutions were going to hold me. I found it so important to value the work and connections I was getting — academic, anarchist punk, feminist, queer, — and not mourn the fact that many clients/publishers/labels were hiring me and dropping me left and right because my art “was so cool but too in line with controversial ideas that would cut their funding”; or just difficult for straight white men to digest — to be real. That is a challenge, but it only pushed me to keep it real and genuine. Whether or not the part time jobs were stressful or grounding, I need to be grateful for the artistic success I do have and have generated by holding onto my vision. I navigate a lot of racism, sexism, homophobia, and general unfair BS when releasing projects or touring — but I think it’s important for me to hold on to the reason why I choose to take up space that may be harmful or complicated — because there is always someone there looking for art by survivors or women or Latinas or queers or depressed people and I am there for them.
U: What are you working on next?
C: I’m always writing new songs, and I have been working on a painting series — The Rock N Roll Hall of Femme — highlighting rock musicians who’ve brought femme queer representation to the forefront, like Freddy Mercury and Grace Jones. I always have a few things under my belt, and then one gets released as the big project (I’m a Gemini) — I have a secret graphic novel I’ve been working on for a while, but not sure what will get finished first!
U: How have the arts helped you understand political and societal issues?
C: Most of the foundations to larger, cultural ideas have been introduced to me through art and music. I will never forget reading Doris Zine by Cindy Crabb in around 2002 and realizing that telling stories about sexual trauma and mental health could be angry and unabashed and honest, and this inspired me to tell my own. My entire connection to punk started with Green Day and their album Dookie, that had songs like Coming Clean and Basket Case — the first songs about mental health and sexuality that I had ever heard that were so raw and honest and not conceptualized or simple. Art and music have always been a cycle of inspiration and resilience.
U: What are some of your favorite punk bands? What are you listening to now?
C: Well, My all time favorite band is Green Day — all of their albums speak to a really important era of my life, and their new album is so diverse and beyond. I also love all of the new releases Billie Joe (The frontman) has done since the world has been on lockdown. As far as all-time, favorite punk bands, I love Crimpsrhine, Bikini Kill, Against Me!, Discount, X Ray Spex, Elvis Costello, Generation X, The Selecter — but I listen to so much more! I listen to a lot of Celia Cruz, Shirelles, Beatles, and obscure 70s powerpop ….. a lot of Latinx music I grew up with, as well as new stuff like Bomba Estereo and Mon Laferte … A lot of old Shakira shows up in my songwriting and I’ve been revisiting a lot of 80s and 90s Latinx pop rock.
U: When did you know making art and music was going to be what you wanted to do for a living?
C: I guess when I was about 15 and punk rock and my zine had become this force, and this gift. It became my voice in such a powerful way, I could not imagine going back to any past dreams I had of Marine Biology and acting. I really liked nature growing up, but as soon as I was about 10/11, I realized I loved performing on front of people and telling jokes, or being ridiculous. To me that translated as acting, but after getting into the punk scene and creating with whatever tools I loved (drawing and songwriting on guitar) — I realized my “performance” could be valued as my personality, who I am when I’m playing music, doing a reading, or selling merchandise at a festival — but also just in life. The themes I love to write about (even in the early issues of my zine from the 90s, the Greenzine) are so dark and intense — I still struggle with having this personality that doesn’t always “match” my writing — it's alright — still a gemini. Still love acting though! After doing the last music video with my band, Choked Up — I remembered how much I loved acting and being really over the top with my facial expressions. It's nice to feel less pressure though — maybe just inspired to integrate more video stuff into my work, whether it’s just documented performances, live tarot readings, etc. This whole quarantine that is affecting the entire world is really pushing me to do what I do on tour, but online.
U: What made you want to be in Illustration?
C: I loved drawing as a kid, my sister did too- we did all kinds of “fan fiction” for most of our childhood. Our dad is a painter — he wasn’t present in our lives as kids, but I remembered his work and always had that internal affinity and handed down skill. I didn’t think about doing it as my job at first because acting (and marine biology) seemed so much more fun — But then when my zine became my platform, I knew that illustrating my stories was a huge part of me, beyond fan fiction or illustrating for fun. I loved making art, but specifically illustration; for the details and its ability to tell a story that without being too subjective, but inclusive and witty. I love dynamic poses and shooting my own references to get the best angles — I think it’s just the kind of visual art that makes me feel the most.
U: In 2008, Bad Habits (Soft Skull Press), was released, how did you come about the idea to present healing from abuse as an illustrated one?
C: At that point, illustrating my stories was just what I did — so illustrating that story made sense. I had written about healing from sexual trauma a lot already in my zine — the last 2 issues were documenting the situations, as well as the community response. This book rounded out the situation I had sort of romanticized in an older issue of the zine; with more of a conclusion, and a reclamation of myself. I idealized what healing could be a lot, so I needed to write a book about the raw trauma that is literally feeling disconnected from your body without drugs or nameless sex. It actually has a lot less illustration than my later work — Spit and Passion and Next World Tarot. It is text-heavy, but like everything I’ve done, the drawings are vital and important to me. I really wanted to document these situations that actually happened with characters who are based off the actual people they portray (my roommates at the time) — although the book is released as autobiographical fiction; its because all the names of people and places are changed, and there’s 1 smaller situation that was fun and cool, but definitely not one of the main narratives — those are all true. I wanted the art to make sure that showed that.
U: How important is it to use your arts and music to present Latinos/Latinas in a positive narrative?
C: It’s important because so much of my healing has been about reconnecting with family and ancestral magic — but with everything I want to be realistic — I think that seeing the Latinx community in a negative light is harmful, but I also find it important to call out the problems in our community, like classism and racism that takes place in even working class communities — the anti-blackness that exists in our community is worth discussing and calling out in order to have healthy pride and resilience. I also find it important in my stories to also elevate the things that make us powerful — our magic, our food, our culture, our resilience. As a first generation Cuban-American, I dealt with a lot of classism and racism, but also a lot of reclamation of the ideas present on the island, and not just the immigrant community. I remember being a kid and my abuela telling us EN ESTA CASA SE HABLA ESPAÑOL! — it was really powerful to grow up isolated to our culture in Miami, without much American influence outside of Television (and not even so much because we blasted el canal 23 all through my childhood, before and after it was bought by Univision! )
U: Can you talk about your time protesting the representation of gender and race in art? How important is using art as a form of protest in these times?
C: I think art is one of the few forms of communication that feel accessible and tangible, therefore necessary — art and music are a vessel for social change and education. I think that the less filter we have, the more we can change the world. My work has always just been that — protesting the representation of gender and race in art. My graphic novels are about surviving trauma, my zines discussed internalized racism and existing in the community — existing as a woman telling her story and complaining about the sexism and racism in both industries and communities is pretty much a protest. Iven been reconnecting to the stuff I wrote about before my narrative became politicized — rock n roll, humor, sex — just to see how it manifests with my current post-traumatic, post Saturn return mind.
U: Green’Zine was a fanzine you started, which turned into a literary beauty about your experience as a queer Latinx abuse survivor and your journey towards self-acceptance. How important are Zines and magazines like that to others going through the same thing?
C: I think they are so important to the growth and power of folks looking for their own survival. There’re so many formats now — online and self-published zines — and there’s so many voices and subcultures contributing to the conversation on healing from violence, as well as dealing with any other oppression. I think it’s important to maintain independent media sources, zines, personal blogs, cheap printing resources — I grew up with Kinkos scams, but now we have the internet. Despite generation, we all have our own drive to create, and it’s amazing without the bureaucracy or approval of a larger outlet or news source…. It’s the only way these “controversial” narratives will trailblaze for future creators.
