Paper Sculptures: How Karina Sharif Uses her Unique Expression of Art to celebrate black Womxnhood
Karina Sharif's message of championing womxhood lies at the forefront of her artwork.
In most of the photos shown on HER INSTAGRAM PAGE, the Boston-born artist's stunning paper sculptures, are showcased alongside Black women of all shades, thoughtfully framing diverse brown faces and bodies.
In Karina’s world, paper, which is traditionally viewed as something delicate and perhaps mundane, has been transformed into a material that shows movement, strength and awe-striking beauty. For the artist who seeks to redefine the way the world views women and Black women in particular, paper, as a medium, seems almost like a metaphoric choice.
In this interview, Sharif (pictured above) details the meaning behind her art, her unique experience as a Black womxn in her field and the impact she hopes to leave on budding Black artists coming up after her.
Paper sculptures seem like such an uncommon form of art. What first inspired you to explore paper as a medium?
To be honest, I used paper as a way out of what felt like an oppressive situation. I had been asked to plan a shoot with someone whom I, unfortunately, did not quite know how to say “no” to. They were supplying me with consistent work, at the time, and I could tell the relationship would fall apart if I declined for the second time. I didn’t want to run around town finding clothing and I was a bit bored of wardrobe by then anyhow, so I thought back to my days in art school, when we would do studies of different mediums and landed on paper, as an interesting medium to try out. It turned out to be a way for me to find my voice at a moment when I wasn’t sure how to fully speak up. After the shoot, I realized it was a great metaphor for my own experience as a black womxn, whose voice was not often heard or respected.
Tell us a little bit more about your process. What steps do you take from conception to construction, to come up with a finished piece?
It varies, depending on the individual, the amount of access to them and how much time I have. Ideally, I like to interview them first and then create a piece that I feel may accent their words, spirit and physical form.
After looking at your art, what feeling do you hope viewers are able to walk away with?
I simply hope they feel seen in some way, or like, they can envision themselves within it. I also think art is fully subjective, so whatever they see, I hope they see something worth taking away for themselves to hold onto.
On your page, you've called attention to an alternate spelling of the word "woman" where an “x” replaces the “a”. This interpretation of the word is meant to be a more inclusive definition of womanhood and femininity. Why was it important to you to make that interpretation of womxnhood a part of your mission?
I wanted to use womxn, because without a full picture of what womxnhood looks like, we are missing out on a full story. My work is about working together to discuss what it means to be a black womxn, so that means I must be fully inclusive of trans and non binary womxn for us to tell that story wholeheartedly. The spelling is also to stand outside of “man” or “men” used in the traditional spelling of womxn. Standing outside of that means we get to fully claim ourselves in a unity that excludes patriarchy.
As a dark-skinned black woman, you've undoubtedly faced challenges in your work and in your life that others have not. What have these challenges looked like? How have you used them to help push you to where you are today?
I have. I would say it looks like all kinds of things. My boundaries being pushed, not being protected, having to repeat myself hundreds of times about what I do not want or am not comfortable with, over and over again. It also means not being heard or not being valued enough to be fully heard or properly compensated. People have no idea, unless they live this experience, how hard it truly is to be a dark-skinned black womxn. I love everything about who I am, but that does not mean the world does not make it difficult every single day. Even when individuals mean well, they are still trying to “take” in some way, a lot of the time. Our society is so conditioned to take from black womxn, they don’t even see it when we bring it to their attention. If I speak up, I am often blamed for this, as well. It’s a bit like not being able to win, no matter how thoughtful I am, with my words, or how clear I am, with my intentions. I would say for me, stepping away from those worlds has been valuable, beyond belief. Choosing not to interact and to do what I want, has made the world of difference. Now I have my own power in my hands and I am clear of how unique and rare I am. When I was in those spaces, people did not want me to shine. They wanted me to play by the rules, even though the rules were stacked up against me. Now that I can stand outside of those rooms and see them for what they truly are, suddenly I’m glowing. It’s a beautiful thing to know your worth, outside of what society tells you is valuable about you.
What are your hopes for the young Black artists coming after you? In your opinion, what will they need from the community?
My hope for young black artists is that they will understand their value, beyond social media. They will support one another, by paying one another and getting out of the mindset that art is free, or negotiable, in cost. I also hope for young artists not to hold on so tight to what they think they know about their art. To allow it to evolve and shift and become more and more true to who they are. Allow it to sometimes fall apart, so you can dig a bit deeper into what you are aiming to communicate. Lastly, young black artists should always know that we, as black folk, are the culture makers, the ones who bring vibrancy to the world, so always charge accordingly for that. Ask one another about rates, learn about how to price yourself properly, don’t sell yourself short, ever.