Balancing East And West With Tala Worrell

Art

Tala Worrell’s latest show Down the Line at COMA Gallery exhibits at what seems like just the right time amidst all of the unrest in the middle east.

 An artist known for her abstract and gestural style encapsulating the relationship between East and West, religious and secular, her art serves as a reminder that polarities can exist harmoniously. Tala is an Arabian and American woman, and while the complexity of her half half heritage is evident in her works, she is also an avid horse rider, and since the move to LA, now a surfer. Someone who actively seeks challenges and experiences that anchor her to a physical place because perhaps the world is a little scarier without that. No, not just an Arabian and American woman. A fully complex human being who shares her lived experiences through art of which we are all better off for it. Now I cannot pretend to know too much about the semantics of art. All I know is that it exists as a vessel to better understand another perspective. If we look a little closer, take the time, ask the questions. I learnt a lot about art and the world and seeing things in different light from a conversation with Tala and by appreciating her art. I hope you do too.

Give yourself an introduction. Who you are in a nutshell.

My name is Tala Worrell. I’m Lebanese/ American. I grew up in Abu Dhabi and moved around a lot but now I’m living in Los Angeles. I’m a painter.

Is this your first time out to Australia?

Yeah. This is actually my first international show. I didn’t realise until I was here and then was like ‘wait I’ve never done this before.’

So cool, congratulations. And where do you consider home?

Right now LA, but all of them. Lebanon feels like home, New York feels like home, Abu Dhabi feels like home. I think when you live somewhere long enough and you make friends and maintain relationships it feels like home.

For sure. I relate to moving around Australia a lot myself. Lucky enough to call a lot of pockets home now. And how would you describe your art style? I’m sure there’s a more technical term for style. Is there?

I think style is good. A lot of people say practice though.

Oh practice, yes. Your practice?

I’ll take style (laughs). I primarily work in abstraction. It’s some kind of gestural abstraction. In this body of work there’s some geometric abstraction and lots of colour, always. Pretty graphic use of colour. I don’t like mixing my colours, I’d rather find the colour that I want. I use a lot of different types of paint. Oil paint represents a certain point in time because it can only be made by certain types of materials and pigments. Some of the flash, the bright blues – those are synthetic, acrylic, vinyl based so you can get more of a plastic, contemporary colour. They just feel different.

I’ve never thought about paints representing different points of time.

Yeah right!

So interesting. What is the story behind the title ‘Down the Line?’

It was something I heard learning to surf. I thought it was a pretty compelling sentiment. It has this forward momentum. I also like that it’s where you are looking. Traveling in time while having a force propelling you. It’s a relationship and a feeling. It’s a cool mantra to have.

How long have you been surfing for?

Just a couple of months.

Do you think that it influences your art?

Definitely. I used to horse ride a lot, I’ve done that since I was six. When I was living in Rhode Island I leased a few horses that I rode everyday. When I moved to LA, I needed to find something that was going to approximate that feeling. It was about building a relationship with something that is so much stronger than you and is unpredictable. A horse can wake up and just because of the cold weather, their back is sore and so you’re going to have a certain type of ride. A lot like the ocean. When I moved to LA, the ocean was right there. Malibu is just so iconic, you know? I tried a bunch of different sports but surfing was the only thing that had the same feelings of riding. The danger, nature, sublime element, the hyper presence. Also the exit from society. Like going to the barn, the smells as soon as you get there, it just takes you away. Same with the ocean. Now I’m very determined to get better at it. I’m not just satisfied with paddling around.

Love to hear it. Yeah that happens a lot with people starting surfing. That addiction. When you select works for shows – is there a story that ties it all together or is it just a case of what you’ve been working on?

A bit of both. It represents a certain time frame. I’ll start to work towards a show, practical things like the size of the artwork because it’d be silly to make something that can’t fit through a door. But then other than that I’ll start and work on them at the same time. It’s a big cycle that I usually finish all together and then pick from there. They are always going to be tied together because it’s from a moment in time that is consecutive.

The symbols within your work, the Tatreez, can you tell me about them and what they mean?

Tatreez is an Arabic word and it is the Palentisine equivalent of embroidery, like cross stitching. You’d usually find them on gowns that a Palestinian Indigenous woman would wear for special occasions, and on pillows and textiles. It’s a motif based language, where all of the motifs together make a pattern. Painting is an abstraction of the world around you, the stuff you’re touching, and you’re putting it together in a pattern and tapestry to describe something. Just like the Tatreez. It’s a self expression collectively done by women. I’m a part of a Tatreez community in LA, where the ladies gave me a bunch of books, all in Arabic. It was the first time in a while that I’d learnt something in Arabic because most of my art education is in English.

Can I ask what drew you to LA?

A lot of things. I paint a lot about this in my work, especially with gestural abstraction – but just the idea of freedom and how much structure you really need to be free. New York has its own narrative of what it means to be free. LA has its own thing. Very much leave everything behind, start over wooo. I was just curious to see what it would be like to live in that history in 2024. I wanted to be outdoors. It’s closer to the climate that I grew up in. I also just wanted a change. I was curious about who I would be. As it turns out I’m a surfer now. Also back to that. Similar to embroidery and also similar to riding, what struck me about it all was that every location I felt like the waves had their own personality. It’s very similar to the way horses have their own personality. I would have never expected to draw those parallels.

Yeah wow I’ve never really thought of it like that but waves definitely have personalities.

Isn't it weird? They’re personified. Suddenly I’m describing these things the same way I would a person. We talk about reading waves and seeing them and it’s a language. It’s a nonverbal one, but it’s a visual language. You can communicate it and it’s incredibly stimulating.

For sure.

There’s this idea that you get to know your local beach and there’s a reason to come back to it even when it’s not nice weather.

Yeah, yeah. You kind of become its mate in a weird way. I have that with a spot back home. It’s this shitty beach break, meanwhile Snapper is down the road but I’d rather surf there because it’s what I know and love.

Literally. I had a period of a year or two where I was lucky enough to have the same horse to ride and it’s interesting how you can get to know it and know the mood it’s in. Similar to the way you can make a friend without them saying hello. So I wonder what it’s going to feel like in a year or two with surfing coming back to the same spot over and over again.

I’d say you’ll probably get pretty hooked on it. This is very insightful wow. I wasn’t expecting this. Next question though. When I look at your work I see a really nice balance of East and West. Can you speak to that?

I’m glad you think that it does. That’s a big goal.

I think it does. You can see the influences of both. A balance of a lot of different worlds and beliefs though too.

Aw that makes me really happy. My mother is from Lebanon and my dad is from the South in America. My parents did a really good job of making sure that it was balanced. That I spent enough time in both places. That really means the worldview is half half. I’m bilingual, you know, I’ve seen both sides my whole life. There are similarities between Eastern and Western. I feel like these words are hard to use now given everything but I think every painting I produce is trying to balance these things. I can see both and feel both sides at the same time. I can understand the inside of something but I’m also from the outside. I can’t help it, it’s how I see the world. It’s just who I am. It’s cool that that comes across.

It does. Finally, do you think art has the power to change the world? 

Yes, but not in the literal way. There’s a scale of time that’s different. If we think that change is solving a literal problem I don’t think that’s what art can do. But maybe with  abstraction, looking at a painting you’re having this visual experience and then you can start to put language to it. And you might start using words you didn’t think before and then that might allow you to see the world differently. Those are when changes happen. It’s change from the inside out. I think that only happens when the artist is insistent on finding a language that represents that time and is authentic to them.

See Down the Line at COMA Gallery from May 24 until June 22, 2024.

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