Make See by Chloe Malmquist

written by Adam Stutsman photos by Adam Stutsman & Chloë Malmquist illustrations by Chloë Malmquist publication design and layout by Chloë Malmquist

From the writer Sprouting: Seeds, Stems, and Stories from the life of Chloe Malmquist

5 7 - 15

Playlist

Mediums + Materials

Inspirations

21 - 23

Work Space

One Last Thought

The purpose of this series is to focus on artists of varying sorts, be they musicians, painters, illustrators, storytellers, sculptors, designers – creators. The life of an artist is often more closely observed by the self than those less creative, with moments that may seem small to most but monumental to the artistic soul that experienced such events. Through this series, these moments become elevated and studied, revealing the colorful, often dark, histories that lead these creators to where they are now, and where they still continue to go. It also serves as a behind-the-scenes look at the materials and mediums of these artists, and why they choose such tools to create their work. I interviewed illustrator and graphic designer, Chloë Malmquist, in her cozy bedroom at her apartment in Grand Rapids, MI one March night in 2017. This small space where she sleeps and creates already indicated that she would have plenty to say, though softly. The only light came from white Christmas lights on the wall, giving a gentle glow to the decorations: assorted illustrations on the wall; a colorcoordinated bookshelf brimming with graphic novels; children’s books; art history (to name a few). She also had a collection of small figurines ranging from antiques to what lesser eyes might call toys and a vast, mismatched bunch that somehow all felt like they were from the same universe – her universe. Chloë speaks softly, repeating over and over how nervous she is to be interviewed. Yet, her answers come from a place of deep thought, as if she knows the words well but has never let them breathe outside of her own head. It didn’t take much time for the small talk introduction to delve into something much deeper...

Seeds, Stems, and Stories, From the Life of ChloĂŤ Malmquist written by Adam Stutsman

Chloë Malmquist was born in Grand Rapids, and has lived there for her entire life thus far. She comes from a small family with whom she remains close: her parents, older sister, and younger brother. She visits them multiple times a week, despite living on the opposite side of the city.

The earliest she remembers starting to draw is kindergarten. “I just remember coming home and drawing on printer paper...I don’t even think we had a printer. [laughs] I think we just had paper.” Early on, she drew mostly girls in various outfits, from simple to lavish. “The first drawing I can really remember is this girl with a...fur coat and a muff. She was so elegant and I made her legs really long, sort of like Barbie’s.” In addition to these printer-paper pieces, she would spend her summers “painting” on the driveway with water. Her mom would give her a paintbrush and a bucket of water, making the concrete her canvas. Chloë would use the brush on the concrete to create until her art evaporated. Then, she’d start again.

Through her elementary and middle school years, her style evolved away from lavish ladies and more toward lanky people with huge hands. She describes it as “sort of like Gorillaz, but not as cool.” She filled notebook pages with a different kind of folk those with exaggerated hands and longer-than-life legs. Chloë says she was “just being messy.” She explains that there wasn’t really a rhyme or reason to it, and that “it was all just crammed on a page. You could see the thought process on the page... but I don’t think I thought about [that] much when I was 13.” These doodles kept her busy, and since she was so quiet and didn’t hang out with friends too often, she says that it felt like it was “just something to do, [but it was probably] helping me deal with being in middle school and not being cool and also not being - maybe - the prettiest girl (which was so important)...but I wasn’t thinking about it...I think it was just helping me because it was so easy to control ... somewhere where I could have total control over was what I was drawing.” But when she reached high school, things changed.

“I just remember coming home and drawing on printer paper...I don’t even think we had a printer. [laughs] I think we just had paper.” Two birds, drawn by Chloë Malmquist at age 6

“I’m really smart, and actually good at the things I was failing at.”

Freshman year was spent at Grand River Preparatory High School. Although she was in an art class, she says that she didn’t draw any more than what she was assigned. And with this, she began to lose her way overall. “I think I stopped drawing for myself. I got really lost in a lot of things...all the company that I kept was...bad, so I could just not think...I was totally by myself with everything that I was going through. Even my friends didn’t know...I don’t think I have any artwork for myself [from that time].” Although sophomore year was spent in a new venue, and therefore away from that company she kept, Chloë was still struggling. Trying to be another person altogether, she dyed her hair and changed her appearance, adopting a new personality; she recalls being unhappy all the time, feeling as though she didn’t remember who she was. She said her grades fell “even though I’m really smart, and actually really good at all the things that I [was] failing at.” But one day in her junior year, when simply walking up her parents’ basement stairs, it occurred to her that she did have something to offer despite her early adolescent brokenness. What may seem so simple was really profound to her; she thought “Oh yeah! I like drawing! And I’m really good at it too! Whoa!” This moment of clarity marked her rebirth. With a new sense of purpose, she got back to drawing in a journal, and then dual-enrolled at Kendall College of Art & Design. Loving the experience at Kendall, she felt a desire to get to college and started to care more about grades as an avenue to that end. In addition, she found herself adding much more thought to school projects. Her journal drawings were becoming “heavy and important...darker things. More interpretive things.” One drawing from this period is particularly telltale of Chloë’s experiences during her personal renaissance; it is an androgynous and faceless person without clothes or hair, drawn floating belly-up, as if being pulled at the chest by an invisible cord; a black cloud comes out of its navel. A rope, representing a higher power, strangles and constricts the black cloud. The body is drawn “in a vulnerable way, and the darkness...coming out of it, [is] being...killed by the rope.” Chloë says it still serves as a reminder that she cannot control the darkness by herself, but through the power of surrender, peace is possible.

"It's medicinal, and I hope it is for other people, too."

Chloë graduated high school in 2013, and debated between attending college at Kendall College of Art & Design or Grand Valley State University. She wanted the “traditional” college experience, even though her high school experience was anything but. “I want[ed] to live in a dorm and have friends...even though I’ve never liked partying.” She had taken graphic design classes before at Kendall College during her dual-enrollment in high school. With that in mind, she said that she figured “I might as well [continue] that... which is kind of sad to say, but then another part of me said [to myself]...‘I kind of like this, and professors keep telling me I have a knack for it.’” She had always wanted to be a fine artist, but found that she actually liked graphic design because of her time at Kendall College. Another factor also swayed her toward the design path: “Sadly, money played into it a little bit because everyone always tells artists that they’re not gonna make any money.” She figured this way, she could support herself monitarily, but also “not [be] miserable” because of the way she truly enjoys graphic design. But most importantly, she figured she could maintain the ability to draw exclusively for catharsis and pleasure. This way, she says, “I wouldn’t exploit my main coping mechanism. I wouldn’t hurt it.” She chose to attend Kendall and continue there to earn her degree in graphic design.

When she began her courses, doubt started to creep in with thoughts that she wouldn’t be able to factor any hand-drawn work into her studies. However, she soon realized that she could incorporate drawing and illustration into the design work, and that “it makes something cuter, [and] has that touch or flair...it adds a softer element, a handmade element.” She goes on to say, “Graphic design is not hand-made anymore...it’s computer made...it’s functional, but it’s not human, in a way. It’s fun to put in the illustrative ingredient because it...comes to life.” This, she tells me, is when she began to adopt her new drawing style. She characterizes it as “so plain that anybody [could] put themselves into it, but it’s warm...they could be...any type of person.” These little figures, which she often endearingly refers to as “blob guys” or “little friends,” quickly became a staple of her work. She soon found that they also could calm her down during an anxiety spell. “If I sat down [when I’m anxious] and scribbled [angrily], I would just feel worse. Like, I’m commiserating with my artwork. So, it’s medicinal, and I hope it is for other people, too. That’s what I want, I want it to be so accessible to everybody and warm to everybody, and when it’s not necessarily warm, [even] if it’s sad, I want it to be comforting in that way.”

"It's been this giant lesson in needing a way to take care of myself every day."

As time went on, she began to expand her style and subject matter, and now, in an almost full-circle type of way, she draws a lot of girls and less of the “blob guys,” taking a more realistic turn. If the genderless soft shape figures were clay, they’ve been formed into more defined humans and animals. In October of 2016, Chloë began participating in something called Inktober, a time when artists and illustrators on Instagram post one new original drawing every day for the entire month. She recalls taking this on during a time when she needed to focus on herself, and that that would be her number one goal of Inktober. “I needed to figure out something that I could do every day, [and] discipline myself to do every day. Like taking medicine, like a dose of something.” Holding herself accountable, she started simple, planning to only draw in black, white, and red. She remembers drawing a lot of hands holding houses, and “you could probably sit back and interpret that but I think I just needed to figure myself out, especially in the beginning.” Quickly, she abandoned the limitations of color palette and subject matter, and in its place, set only one parameter: it had

to be for her. The process pushed her to draw even when she didn’t want to, but doing it solely for herself kept her going. “It’s been this giant lesson in needing a way to take care of myself every day” As the days passed, she got more detailed and experimental in her work. “I got more confident...I got better at drawing, and drawing a little more realistically...and once I got the hang of using this particular skill, I was able to manipulate it in the way that I wanted it.” Now, Chloë continues expanding and tending to her ever-evolving style, going through phases of obsession, including a season of snakes and dragons, to a time of drawing figures with arms and legs detached (which sounds far more gruesome than it is), and anything else she feels or fixates upon, she does so without limitations, only creating for herself. She finds it easier to express herself through visuals than through words: “It’s hard to talk about my work...” Lucky for her, the brilliance and warmth of her work speaks for itself, always inviting others in for a visit, to enjoy a brief escape from troubles; or a longer stay, inspiring change and growth.

â&#x20AC;&#x153;I like listening to music I can sing along to, sort of. Music that makes me feel comforted and warm. Not sad music. I pick music that makes me feel happy and warm and optimistic and sunny.â&#x20AC;?

Though her passion lies in illustrating, Chloë’s professional and educational sphere contains mostly graphic design, both of which can be done digitally or by hand. When asked what the positives of drawing or designing digitally, she said, “Digital is immediate. You’re not ruining your whole drawing because you wanted to change the color of a shirt.” But with the immediacy and simplicity, there is also a negative side. “The con of that is you’re not as connected to what you’re [drawing]...I feel like I have less control for some reason. I’m so used to my pen and my journal, and being able to go anywhere. But for digital drawing I need my computer and my tablet and my whole setup and then you have to have the certain pen and the buttons are weird and you need your charger and a table big enough to [fit] everything...you’re sort of defeated by the setup, and it doesn’t feel as personal for drawing. For designing though, I wouldn’t want to design any other way. It’s fun that it can be immediate and I’m glad I’m a graphic designer in this digital time.” However, she goes on to discuss why she can grow weary of the easy accessibility of designing digitally: “More people can feel like they’re masters of it because they have the program. It’s more flippant. Everybody can feel like a designer. Being a designer isn’t what you’re doing on your computer, it’s more of a way of thinking. So, I think that’s what’s hard, because nobody gets that. You have to know why you’re making your decisions. It’s still a piece of artwork. You have to know the thought process.” She says this without a trace of elitism in her tone, and more of a longing that others may continue learning about this way of thinking, instead of just stopping at the easy stuff. “I think that’s a sad side-effect of [designing digitally], more than a con.” When creating by hand, with markers and pens and paper, Chloë gets a warmer feeling from

the process. “I think it’s just feeling more at home with it...you’re so a part of it. You’re more careful with your drawing. Once you ink, you can’t go back, or you have to start over. You have to think about that more.” She goes on to describe the irreplaceable satisfaction of a physical drawing: “Holding a piece of artwork is just more emotional for me. Having it in my hands is more important to me.” But doing everything by hand has its downsides as well, mostly when it comes to location. “I think it’s hard to find the right workspace. It’s hard to lug some of these things around.” She says she wants her own studio where all of her materials can live and [be] everywhere, since her collection of markers “can get so vast that it’s a little overwhelming.” For Chloë, when it comes to markers, nothing beats Copic, “but, any alcohol-type markers are great.” She informs me that this is because they avoid the marker lines while still bleeding nicely, and, overall, just feel softer. She describes them as giving a watercolor effect, and lasting a long time. “I think my longest running one was three years before it started going dry!” As far as paper or cardstock is concerned, she mostly sticks to writing in her journals. “I really like my Shinola journal, but Moleskine has been my primary.” However, she isn’t too fond of the yellow tint that comes with Moleskine paper, and says that her Shinola journal has “awesome paper. It’s thick, it’s so white, and it doesn’t feather too much.” At the end of the day, though, it’s not so much about the drawing materials as what the artist does with them: “I don’t think I have a favorite. There are pros and cons to everything.”

“If you can support somebody by buying a piece of their artwork, I’m so for buying artwork so artists can feel validated. It’s really important to find shops that you like or artists that you like and then support them.” “Gorillaz was a huge influence [for me] in middle school and onward. I love how cool they are. They’re just so damn cool! The feeling of them has always been so cool.” “My first inspiration for drawing small and obscure-looking [things] was an illustrator named Suntur. He draws these really cute little...people. That was the first time where I thought, ‘I could do this too! I could have fun with this too!’” “Pen Ward has been the biggest inspiration, and then coming down from that, Natasha Allegri and Rebecca Sugar for sure, and Emily Partridge. She’s so good. [But] I think Pen Ward is the biggest one overall.”

ChloĂŤ has a tattoo on her right forearm, inspired by one of Pen Ward's drawings

Rise of the Ogre - Gorillaz The Art of Ooo - Adventure Time Bee and Puppycat - Natasha Allegri Over the Garden Wall - Pat McHale Bags - Pat McHale

Chloeë’s ideal work space to bring things to life is the very spot where she dreams them: her bedroom. “My favorite place to draw is my bedroom…it’s so quiet, and it’s my own.” Besides the warm lights on the cozytorug the hardwood, the details are her whatbedroom. make Chloë’s ideal work space to wall bringand things liferolled is theacross very spot where she dreams them: this small bedroom unique. There are little figurines organized on every surface, with antique “My favorite place to draw is my bedroom...it’s so quiet, and it’s my own.” Besides the warm lights on bobbles and little family keepsakes. But she says when she’s actually drawing in her room, it’s the wall and cozy rug rolled across the hardwood, the details are what make this small bedroom unique. not as picturesque – and it’s better that way. “A lot of people see my Instagram and they think There are little figurines organized on every surface, with antique bobbles and little family keepsakes. my life is just so cute but a lot of time it’s just not as cute of a scene. It’s me curled up in my But she says when she’s actually drawing in her room, it’s not as picturesque – and it’s better that room…not in a cute way, like a not-even-thinking-about-it kind of way, which is the best. That’s way. “A lot of people see my Instagram and they think my life is just so cute, but a lot of the time it’s the best way.” just not...It’s me curled up in my room...not in a cute way, like a not-even-thinking-about-it kind of way, which is the best. That’s the best way.” When it comes to graphic design, though, “I can’t be in my room. I have to go somewhere more professional…a coffee shop or my school…somewhere with a desk, where I can be not in When it comes to graphic design, though, “I can’t be in my room. I have to go somewhere more pajamas, because design isn’t as personal to me. It’s still my creation but it’s not for me, but professional...a coffeeare. shop or my with a desk, where I can be notstructured in pajamas, my drawings I have to school...somewhere be sitting upright, awake and aware. I guess, more is bethe cause design isn’t as personal to me. It’s still my creation but it’s not for me, like my drawings are. main requirement.” I have to be sitting upright: awake and aware. I guess, more structured is the main requirement.”

As the interview comes to a close, we’re both yawning. The warm glow of the Christmas lights and the soft blankets we’re sitting on that cover an already soft mattress, has me already half-dreaming. As a customary closing question, I ask what words she would have for any of her other fellow creatives, whether beginner or expert, and any final thoughts. She rubs her eyes and thinks a moment, then softly says: “Try not to put so much pressure on yourself to create. A lot of times I think you can put so much pressure on yourself that you just end up not creating, or whatever you create is sort of stunted by that timid feeling you get out of being nervous about what you’re going to make. Just let yourself go. It’s for you. It’s for the artist. That’s what makes art really important. It’s for the artist, and then someone else can come and put themselves in it too, and it’s this way of connecting. It’s like a language. But you have to put yourself forward and make something for you in order to get there. In order to help anybody, you have to be able to help yourself first. If you make something totally ugly, you still got a little bit better. You still drew. You still got better. I guess it’s sort of cliché but you just have to do it and once you do, it’s this tremendous help to yourself...

...you have to breathe your own life into something first.”