Creating works that are playful, exaggerated, and disquieting, Janiva Ellis is a figurative painter who combines cartoon-like imagery with surreal narration to create layered scenes that explore the psychology of black identity. Her exhibition StackedPlot was recently on view at 47 Canal from September 19–October 26, 2024.

In this interview with artist Diamond Stingily, conducted over email over the course of Fall 2024, Ellis shares an inside look at her life in the studio—she describes her painting process, which is at turns both playful and disciplined, while also reflecting on the movies that inspired her as a child in Hawaii, and the music that fuels her practice in the present. We also get a little glimpse into what they were both like as kids: likable weirdos. 

— Ebony L Haynes, 2024 EIR

In a world that seems to make everything feel urgent, what is your painting process? Do you like pressure, or enjoy playing and being patient with your time?

Love playing. I really like testing my patience when it comes to rewards, though. I zone out a lot—I have discipline only in doses. I usually paint in bursts with breaks in between. When I start working on something that I’m excited about, I get consumed and spend days not leaving my studio, trying to figure it out. But there are other times when I’ll go a month or months without painting. When I’m getting closer to a deadline, I try to find a spastic rhythm. Sometimes I’ll make a series of passive painting decisions and let them sit there for weeks; then I’ll watch or listen to something compelling, and I’ll compulsively make a lot of pointed additions to the work, like figures interacting or blacked-out areas. I would love to scratch and scrape away at a work for years, slowly tweaking the same areas over and over. I really admire obsessive art.

How do you feel about the word “inspire”? Do you dislike it? Because I want to genuinely ask you, what inspires you? This is a generic question, so you could give me a generic answer. But I will explain where I’m coming from. I have been inspired by portals for a while now; but I am also inspired by films, music, or the most basic things. Sometimes inspiration is a subconscious thing, and I realize why I created something long afterward. And at times, the word that inspires is “triggering.” The word triggering is triggering. 

I like the word “inspire.” It sounds nice to me. It can get played out in journalism. It can feel like a placeholder for writers who actually find what they’re writing about impenetrable: they’ll use words like “inspiring” or “powerful” or “courageous” or “unapologetic” when they really don’t know what to say. These words become degrading qualifiers, which sucks, because being inspiring or inspired is the best. 

I’m into things that are infectiously aspirational and humanizing. I like being motivated by the ingenuity of others. I’m really motivated by connecting with people. That’s why I like clubbing, it really inspires me to listen to music with other people. I have a deep need for solitude, more and more as I get older, but when I engage with art that’s vulnerable, I’m inspired to be around people. It makes sense that you’re inspired by portals—many of the works I’ve seen of yours feel like portals in plain sight. You have a way of evoking a haunting or supernatural quality. I also love a portal. Painting feels like a portal. 

“I’m really motivated by connecting with people. That’s why I like clubbing, it really inspires me to listen to music with other people. ”

I’m also inspired by movies, songs, and things that unfold over time. I love an arc. With painting, the arc feels like it’s happening privately. I really want to share that process with people. I can relate to that feeling you’re describing of not realizing why I made something until long after it’s made. I’m like, “Oh” It can feel exposing, but also really cathartic. I think when you experience a lot of cognitive dissonance and don’t process it with anyone outside of yourself, it can affect your emotional cognition and the way you conceptualize your emotions going forward—even if you’ve found healing resources for processing emotions.

I think your paintings have a lot of yin and yang in them. Do you believe in balance? 

I do. It seems vital. But I also love the tension in extremes. That’s why I enjoy working on larger canvases. There’s room for a lot. The highs, the lows, the middle, the nothing. 

Given that this interview is being conducted over email, I would love to ask you a bit more about how you approach communication. How do you feel about texting or speaking over the phone? Are you good at answering emails right away? Do you prefer in-person communication? Can you make art and talk at the same time? 

I’m horrible at answering emails—sorry it took so long to get back to this one. I didn’t check my email in 2023, and I was really spotty checking it this year. I’m not sure why I’ve developed this mental block, but I find it really daunting. In-person conversation is the best because it’s easier to riff back and forth. I feel more eloquent and confident IRL—once I’ve said something, I usually forget what it was and how I said it. Being calculated with words is harder for me than going off the dome. In terms of multitasking, I love to FaceTime and paint or have friends in my studio while I paint.

Do you listen to music in the studio? If so, what do you listen to? I listen to a lot of WQXR, but sometimes I have to take a break from it, because I simply don’t want to hear anyone talking or singing. I know every artist is different, but I imagine you listening to Gregorian chant, ’90s trance dance music while you paint. (It’s sexy but in-the-zone music. And yes, I think you’re sexy in a non-corny way. When people think they’re sexy, that’s when it gets annoying and not sexy.)

I love your perception of my studio soundtrack. I’ve gone through phases with chant and trance stuff. When I was working on my show Rats, I was listening to Enigma, Deep Forest, KLF, Burial, Tirzah, and MJ Cole mixes, as well as Meant to Live by Switchfoot and Everlong by Foo Fighters on repeat. It was hectic. I was living in Miami at that time, from the end of 2019 to mid-2021, and I was super isolated. At one point, I was working in a mall that had been converted into studios, but it was basically empty because of COVID. Enigma felt appropriate, echoing through the empty mall. I felt like a monk at the time, trying not to lose it. 

I’m glad you think I’m sexy, thank you. I’m also corny. I go through long phases without music. If I’m having trouble motivating, I’ll put something on. Jungle and Juke are my faves—I’m always in the mood for that. Artist-wise, I usually return to Tricky, Kelela, David Sylvian, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Goldie, Arthur Russell, The Spaceape, Spelling, The Cure, DJ Nate, and Faye Wong. I listened to Bambii, Maryyx2, and Tongue in the Mind a lot this year.

You’ve probably been asked this question a lot, but what were you into as a kid? I think I was a weirdo, but a likable kid. I read a lot. I was a dweeb and still am. I think being a genuine dweeb is a superpower. I think I am an artist because I always was. 

What were you like, and how do you honor the kid you once were? I think that’s a better way to frame the question than to nostalgically ask you what artists you liked growing up, what your favorite color was, what your favorite thing to paint is, or what it was like growing up in Hawaii (are you from Hawaii, or did I just make that up?). Though of course, if you want to answer any of that, feel free.

I think I was a likable weirdo, too. I was very awkward. And nice. I changed schools a lot, ten total. I was adaptable but didn’t feel at ease socially. I loved to swim. I really liked to read, too. I liked Francesca Lia Block books when I was a tween. I loved fantasy and musicals. As a teen I had alt phases, poetry phases, trying to be hot and sexy phases. I very much morphed to the external situation. I drew a lot. I was always goofy. I’m still pretty playful in the same ways. I love revisiting the books and movies I was into as a child. I recently started listening to the soundtrack to Really Rosie by Maurice Sendak, which was one of my favorites. Carole King does the music—it’s really good. 

I’m a sucker for nostalgia. When I’m home, I revisit all of the things I used to enjoy. I love movies. My grandfather sent us a book that came with fifty releases by Janus Films, which was pivotal for me. My mom bought K-Mart bargain bin movies a lot, so we had a big collection. Movies that come to mind are The Fisher King (I was obsessed with Terry Gilliam), Amadeus, Strange Days, Benny and Joon, Jason’s Lyric, Telephone, The Ice Storm, Sweet Charity, The Flower Drum Song, Funny Girl, Pink Panther, Lady in a Cage, Death Becomes Her, The Joy Luck Club, Anniversary Party, Eve’s Bayou, Dumb and Dumber, High Anxiety, The Last of the Red Hot Lovers, Just Another Girl on the IRT, Mixed Nuts, Black Orpheus, Novacane, Strangers in Good Company, Vampire in Brooklyn, Girl 6, Monkey Bone, B.A.P.S, The Preacher’s Wife, Meteor Man, Bowfinger, Soap Dish, Party Girl, A Fish Called Wanda, and Daughters of the Dust. 

I don’t have a favorite color. My favorite thing to paint is a face—if I’m dealing with a block and I don’t know how to get back into painting, I paint a face. I get bored of that quickly, but it feels nice, and it propels me into other ideas. 

We moved to Hawaii from Arizona when I was seven. It was a very wondrous, bizarre, isolated upbringing. There was a lot to explore. The environment really encouraged an exploration of and comfort in the world. We initially lived on Oahu and then moved to Kauai when I was ten. Oahu is pretty metropolitan compared to Kauai, so the culture shock felt more dramatic than it did when we initially moved to Hawaii. We lived on the north shore of Kauai, across the street from Anini Beach, which had a rich coral reef and was really shallow at low tide. It was incredible exploring tide pools, seeing lion fish, clown fish, angel fish, humuhumunukunukuapua’a (state fish), sea cucumbers. There are songs that I was obsessed with as a child that I think of when I revisit certain beaches. Ke’e beach on Kauai always reminds me of singing “Ironic” by Alanis Morissette with my childhood friend Annie, and Lanikai on O’ahu reminds me of singing “Wannabe” by The Spice Girls with my other childhood bestie, Annie.  

Pretend I am sitting across from you and you’re having a good time. I am funny, charming, and I have manners. I paid for our drinks and I appreciate you making the time. I look at my watch: “OH MY, where has the time gone?” We have been talking for four hours. You leave the table thinking, “Diamond should really go into journalism, this was the best interview ever!”

Thanks for the drinks, Diamond, this was so fun and breezy. <3

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Diamond Stingily is an artist from Chicago, Illinois living in Brooklyn, NY. Her work is in the permanent collections of the Museum of Modern Art, New York; The Whitney Museum, New York; The Institute of Contemporary Art, Miami; The National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne; and the Museum Ludwig, Cologne, among others. She is represented by the galleries: Galerie Isabella Bortolozzi, Berlin; Cabinet, London, and Greene Naftali, New York.