An Artist's Print

Profile of Angel Albie Anjos

As a 2019 Cal transfer, Angel Albie Anjos spent one of their only in-person semesters working towards an honors art practice show. Angel now resides in the Bay Area and continues to paint and sculpt in their studio in San Francisco while working at the De Young Fine Arts Museum. In this profile, Angel describes their journey to becoming an artist, as well as the meaning behind and legacy of their work. 

Reaching Art

The trajectory of my art career has been a turbulent one. I have been interested in art since I was a kid. I was always interested in expressing myself in artistic mediums. Growing up in a Brazilian-American household, there were expectations and a little bit of discouragement to pursuing art. I ended up going to architecture school for two years and earning an associates degree. 

I moved to California after a period of feeling lost. I didn’t enjoy that creative path. After three years, I went back to school with the intention of finding what I wanted to do. I allowed myself to dabble in different things to draw out my interest. I had a sociology professor at UC San Diego who saw my final project, a painting, and said, “Why aren’t you going to art school?”

At that moment, my inner child was awakened again. With that encouragement, I saw art as a choice again. I took a museum studies class that specifically helped community college students reach a museum profession. That class completely changed my perspective on art careers. I realized there was a funnel from college to museums and art collections; I learned that a career in art didn’t mean that I had to be a starving artist.

One door opened after another. I got internships at the San Diego Art Institute, an art-focused nonprofit, and more. When you finally allow opportunities to arise, you find them, and they find you. From there, I transferred to Berkeley as an art major.

These last two years have been a beautiful, chaotic mess. I have my days when I question everything. But I find moments where I say “No, this is the right thing.” Slowly and surely, I am finding that my passion is leading me in the right direction. I have found my community, and my parents are supportive. I graduated in December, and I’m walking in May.

The First Final Show

Being in a situation where COVID prevented me from being in person for the two-year duration of my transfer, I knew I needed to end my college career with a bang. I was set on getting into the honors program and completing the senior show. It was an opportunity to make use of resources, studio space, and mentors. All of a sudden, I had a key to my own space, and I was going to use it.

My process was very intentional in stimulating what I could do post-graduation, as well as pushing myself to see what I was capable of. I went from a place of painting myself to painting those who supported me – members of the queer and trans communities. I paint my friends in a way that is illustrative and sublime, showing a sense of confidence I don’t feel all the time. The process involves the community members themselves, allowing me to develop new organization and collaborative skills. After scheduling photoshoots and creating mood-boards, I used 3D animation software to build illusions around the photograph. Based on my friends’ inputs, the backgrounds show where they are the most confident. It was exciting to see how the creation unfolded with everyone involved.

In another series, Emancipation from Sin, I take religion and mythology and put a queer lens on it. A portrait of my friend Laura, for example, reimagines her as Medusa. I put in symbols of Laura’s queerness and Medusa’s origin story while illuminating ideas that question her villainhood. Another painting of my friend Niko portrays them as the martyr Saint Sebastian, who was shot with arrows due to his Christian faith. Saint Sebastian has also been used by the queer community to represent homoerotic desire. Niko depicts a trans Saint Sebastian who is unscathed by the arrows around him, challenging the traditional myth. With this series, I want to turn stories on their head and show, once again, the confidence and comfort of the queer community. 

Now, Then, and Tomorrow

I make this collection of ceramic hummingbirds because of what happens when you see one. When I see hummingbirds, I freeze. They force me to come to the present. For a split second, I’m completely entranced, and I forget any stress. It’s a symbol of enjoying the moment. The iridescent feathers, their tiny power – I relate to all of this. Someone could underestimate me, but here I am in the present. What I make will remain in this form for thousands of years. 

These are time stamps in a way of my art practice. It’s comforting and combats my moments of self-doubt. Physicality is an “a-ha” moment that lets me show others what I can do. Is that a legacy? I struggle allowing myself to think that I could leave a legacy. Artists have this responsibility to show the times they live in and be part of history. I guess I am in the process of making my legacy, then.

Interview: Anjika Pai

Photos: Montse Arantza