By Dominique Hunter

AT the core of Esther Nankoo’s creative practice is an eagerness to cultivate healthy habits that facilitate the kind of self-awareness necessary for healing to occur. In fact, her commitment to personal growth in spite of all the challenges she has experienced, has been matched only by her desire to channel those emotions into works of art. And although she now has a clearer understanding of the “why” that drives the production of her work, she readily admits it wasn’t always so obvious.

During a recent interview, the former President’s College student explained that the environment there was not one that encouraged her to pursue art at the CXC level, and so she didn’t. Instead, with some positive reinforcement from her tutors, she opted to enroll at the E.R. Burrowes School of Art. Her lack of art training prior to her enrolment at the art school did little to dampen her spirit. Equipped with just a basic knowledge of art, she remained hopeful about what the new journey would offer.

“When I first entered the art school I was a very timid individual. I can say art school brought out the rebel in me. It changed my entire life and the way I looked at things. I grew mentally and emotionally because I was eventually exposed to introspection in my second year painting class. It was then that I started to have deep contemplations about myself.”

Like many others before her, Nankoo quickly learned that art entailed a lot more than drawing and painting. Much to the dismay of most students, they are met with a host of other subjects that are compulsory in order to complete the first year of the school’s programme. And in most cases, there’s almost always that one subject that elicits a little (or a lot) less enthusiasm than the others.

“I didn’t like still-life painting. It’s very rigid and you have to paint exactly what you see. I didn’t find that very creative because I like to be spontaneous with my work. When I’m about to paint I don’t plan what I want to paint. I usually meditate to figure out my mood and as the work starts to manifest I would gradually figure out how to enhance my composition.

But as much as I hated a lot of the technical courses they were essential. It was important to do them to get a better understanding of art because as much as art is about aesthetics, it’s about technicality too.”

After completing her first year at the art school, Nankoo was finally able to exercise her creativity in a way that felt true to her own personality. No longer confined to strict subject matters, she began to tap into her emotions and would often use them to direct the outcome of her work. When asked about her reliance on meditation as a fundamental part of her work, Nankoo stated that it has always been a natural part of her daily experience and, as a result, became organically intertwined with her creative practice.

“Prior to joining the art school I was a victim of bullying but I never really spoke out about it. Keeping it to myself for so many years got me to a point where I was depressed because I didn’t know how to deal with it. It lived with me for many years and festered, resulting in a lot of negative emotions.”

Nankoo explained that although there was some initial hesitation about using her painting sessions as, more or less, self-directed therapy sessions, she eventually felt encouraged to use the medium as a way of taking control and confronting all of the emotions she had worked so hard to suppress in the previous years.

“I was afraid to paint because I knew if I painted, what I felt inside would come out and I didn’t want people to know I was affected. I was ashamed because mental illness is stigmatised and people have a lot of misinformed ideologies about it.

If you take a look at my art, it’s very grotesque. I don’t express myself grotesquely for the fun of it. It’s my way of indirectly reaching out to people to show them that they’re not alone in this emotional battle. I know a lot of people go through a lot of things and they don’t tell anyone because they are afraid of being judged or shunned.

While I was doing research I found that both artists and non-artists have different ways of coping with their problems. Some people smoke or drink, some even self-harm. Who am I to tell someone how to cope with his or her problems? I’m not putting them down for what they do because I don’t know why they do what they do. But as much as I’m not putting it down, I’m not supporting it either. Instead, I’m showing them that art is a great alternative for expression.”

Reflecting on one of her proudest moments during the art school, Nankoo opened up about the tipping point that almost led to her journey at the institution being cut short.

“I was actually going to quit the art school a few months before my exam. I was very frustrated and I couldn’t take it anymore. I had my withdrawal letter ready and I was about to take it to the office.”

She went on to explain that despite her frustration at the time, she remained open to having a dialogue with the school’s administration about a way forward. After a few hours of negotiation, both parties were able to reach an agreement that included her completing the programme.

“I’m proud of myself for staying on and not leaving. I’m proud that I was mature enough to sit and listen to what they had to say, instead of just being angry.”

Nankoo recognises that hers is an ongoing journey and willingly admits that her intention is not to develop a rigid visual language but rather, one that continues to evolve and reflect her growth.

“I can’t credit one person because many persons have contributed to my growth. Although some might not have assisted me academically, many were there to support me emotionally and I’m thankful for that. My family, friends and tutors at the art school were all involved in this process, helping me to grow and discover myself.”