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HALLOWEEN IN SPRING:
AN INTERVIEW WITH JELLY STAY GUCCI
Jelly is sitting under a soft rain shower in the Elizabeth Street Garden: a charming SoHo spot that had admittedly seen better days than the grey Silent Hill-like one I was meeting Jelly on.
Accompanying her was her boyfriend Lewis, who in many ways was telling a color story through his clothes that complimented Jelly's. A green that held hands with her red, a neutral beige that matched his grey. Jelly and Lewis are equipped by bright colors on a gloomy spring day.
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Jelly: I've had SZA's album on repeat. It's gotten to the point where [Lewis] knows the lyrics now. I was just showing him this song by Lemon Demon, and a lot of old Odd Future too.
It's funny to live in world where there now exists "old" Odd Future. I keep this in mind when we begin on conversation on
what we like, from music to movies.
"What kind of art do you like?"
Jelly: I love movies! I'm a big fan of horror movies and thrillers. We watch a lot of B-list movies like the Last Shift, it was insane!
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We talk about repetition in the Halloween movies, Jamie Lee Curtis winning an Academy Award, and how Dave & Busters is cursed.
Jelly: I was sitting on a stool at a bar and when I got up, the floor is so slippery, so the chair slips from under me. It goes one way and I go another [she laughs.] I thought I was fine, but then I feel this pain in my ankle and I need help getting up. I was like "oh my god...it's broken." I was not completely there. I'm back on the stool and they've got ice on my foot and I was like "yeah...I'm trying to go home." [Lewis] put me on his back and he took me down the escalator. I felt sick and I'm like, call an ambulance! Which [Lewis] knows is bad because I never say call an ambulance. It's just not something I do. The EMT's said it wasn't broken. We get to the hospital and the doctor and nurse are like, "we don't think it's broken, you can wiggle your toes, you seem like you're in a good mood. They finally do an x-ray, and they're like, "oh!" All the bones in my ankle were broken. So now I have two metal plates and sixteen screws in my ankle.
Jelly reveals her surgery scar and laughs: I have a lot of metal in my leg now.
She's wearing sneakers she painted herself with alcohol markers. She's drawn her signature monsters in bright oranges and greens.
"When I first saw your art, I thought: 'Who is this. I have to talk to them.' Because you're communicating something that a lot of people are into but don't get to see everywhere. Is your art influenced by scary movies?"
Jelly: I would say so, yeah. Horror movies, horror manga. I would really into Uzumaki when I was in high school. That was partially it. When I was little, my mom was taking art classes in college. She can draw. She makes jewelry now. My uncle can draw too.
"That's so cool, you have a lineage of artists in your family. How long have you been making art?
Jelly: All my life, I've always said. When I was about 3, my mom told me she took me to the doctor for cognitive behavior. Draw a sad face, draw a happy face, stuff like that. The doctor was impressed because I was drawing full on facial features. He was like, "maybe she's going to be an artist!"
"What's your least favorite question?"
Jelly: It's not my least favorite question, but I feel like non-creatives see inspiration as one thing, so they ask you what it is. It can be anything around me. It's everything. It could just be like, I'm sad, let's draw! Or I can see something and be like, that's cool. And then draw it.
"How do you describe your art?"
Jelly: I'd say it's the juxtaposition between ugliness and beauty. I feel like people hate when artists use that word. I've seen it on TikTok, they think it's pretentious, trying to be smart.
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"Why ugliness and beauty?"
Jelly: I'll use colorful hues and values, but then I'll do really ugly creatures. "Ugly" creatures.
"My favorite kind of art is the kind that's hard to look at. A little creepy, a little ugly."
Jelly laughs: Yeah, uncanny valley.
"Yeah! What's that?"
Jelly: It's when something is close to human, but it's not. It's slightly off-putting.
"Why do you think we're attracted to ugly, monstrous things?"
Jelly: I don't think many people are! I work with kids, fifth graders right now. Some of them are into my art, some of them are like "this is scary...do you need a therapist?"
Jelly is from the Bronx. She grew up in Pelham Parkway until she was about 18 before moving to the upper west side, which she says "is nice, and I miss the Bronx!"
When I ask her how does she describe her work to people, she explains: "That's something I have to do a lot, actually,"
Jelly: What I usually say is my work is a little vibrant, uh, a little grotesque, what some would call creatures or demons.
"Some would call them angels."
Jelly laughs: Right! True. In high school I had a teacher go "oh my god your work is so demonic, you need to change this." And I was like, I'd gonna do it even more now!
Jelly: Sharing or explaining my art is sometimes vulnerable, you know? My mom, my boyfriend, everyone tells me I need to put myself out there and show myself, and I'm like, "I know, I know," but it can almost feel like bragging, too. Also, there was this one time I did a show on the lower east side. [Jelly pauses to laugh.] A random lady came in and was like, "Is this your work? It's trash compared to these other artists, they know what art is about, you don't." She was going off on me. I was like, wow, maybe I shouldn't do any more art shows.
"How do you handle criticism?"
Jelly: I'm not afraid of feedback, I love it, I think it's great. I think it's about how you give it. If you say its trash, that's your opinion. But if you're like, you could use more composition, or you can use more shadows, then thank you for that! I appreciate that! I've had criticism about the meaning of my work, maybe the work doesn't have meaning so I shouldn't show it. And I'm like, can't I just make something pretty?
"Do you think art has to have a meaning?"
Jelly: No, I mean, there's rich people putting a dot on a wall and making millions. We can do what we want, make something up, give it more meaning, you know?
I tell Jelly that the first time I found her art, I was overwhelmed with this feeling you can only catch from being outside on Halloween night in Washington Heights, 2011, a night where anything can happen.
Jelly: Halloween is my favorite holiday. I did a lot of paintings that were New York City based. I did one on my fire escape in the Bronx, a chicken spot one, one of the Mr. Softy truck, because that's very New York.
I think about the print of the chicken shop I was lucky to buy on Jelly's website. It was there that I felt like it was October again, the night teeming with opportunity. I'm sitting with these feelings when I ask her about her creative process.
Jelly: It kinda depends on how I'm feeling or what I'm going for. Something specific usually goes in my iPhone notes, and it's going to sit there for months. That can take one day, or a week or so, depending on timing. If it's a painting I'll binge and paint all day. I'll forget to eat, I'll be like,
Oh my god? Why am I shaking? It's midnight and I forgot to eat? Whoops! [She laughs] Or I'll flip through my sketchbook and pick through the ideas. I like to paint some days, use alcohol markers, draw with pen. Right now it's hard to paint but I'd like to get back to it. Space is always limiting.
We imagine what it would be like for Jelly to have her own studio. A place generous with space and time, where messes can be started without the need to finish.
Jelly talks about the art scene in Chelsea and downtown Manhattan, which she admits "I tried to get into, but I don't really like that scene."
Jelly: I feel like if you don't like the right way, or if you don't articulate your thoughts well, they'll just look at you like you're stupid. They'll look at you for the way you're dressed. It's like, this isn't what art is about, but it is now. It sucks.
When she's not making art, Jelly picks up photography as a hobby. She explains that she uses the photos to draw in her own style.
Jelly: Sometimes I'll show people my art and they'll be shocked. They don't expect I make this kind of art. People hear "artist" and they expect realism.
Jelly's art style is an alluring exhibition through the regular lives of minacious, eerie looking creatures. They're similar to us in the way they're not depicted doing anything particularly exciting. Some are just standing around. But the colors, expressions, and ideas imbedded in her work is extraordinary.
These creatures, as awry as they may be, are still the foundation of Jelly's work: outstanding and special. They appear in different shapes and sizes, their thoughts and feelings brought to life through Jelly's work on their eyes and lips. They're her principle features next to a sharp pair of horns.
Jelly went to Art and Design High School. She remembers Mr. Brian Lee, her illustration teacher who encouraged her work.
Jelly: He gave me supplies and encouraged me to do things. He pushed to do this 4 foot painting and it turned out pretty great. I was always doing small paintings and he pushed me to go bigger.
She spent time at Purchase, which she explains "wasn't for me"
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Jelly: I feel like they go for the abstract work. I feel like everyone wanted me to go into this box of abstract work, and it just wasn't for me. It was a lot of introduction stuff. Not to be like, "I know everything" but it really didn't feel worth it to me.
We pause so I can ask Jelly how she's feeling.
Jelly: Good. Happy. You go through months of not being able to walk, and then you walk, and you're like "oh my god the world is amazing!"
She tells me about her dreams of owning her own gallery where she can feature artists in the city. A community art space she agrees we all need more of.
"Where do you see your art going?"
Jelly: I don't know! I hope it goes somewhere because a lot of artists don't pop off until they're dead.
"Is there a message you want to share with the world?"
Jelly: Be kind. Stay gucci.
You can find more of Jelly at staygucci.com
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