Kacee Friedman‘s paintings are moody, peaceful and oddly nostalgic. The scenes that she 
paints feel familiar and calm, though you’ve probably never visited her exact backdrops. The evocative nature of her pieces is justified in the explanation of her process. After meditation, Kacee puts brush to canvas and intends to “capture feelings, rather than replicate environments or people.”
Friedman got her start in all things of the artistic persuasion at an early age. Her parents owned a framing shop and art gallery, so she was surrounded by inspiration on a daily basis. But she says that she didn’t become an artist in the truest sense until she gave birth to her son, Escher. Her latest series for her first solo show at Parlor Gallery this May, entitled Neon Landscape, marries scenery with neon letters and invites you to question what you really see.
CommonCreativ asked Friedman about what’s missing from the Atlanta art scene, what it means to be an artist and a mother, and how she found balance through spirituality.
CommonCreativ: How did you get your start in art?
Kacee Friedman: I’ve been surrounded by art my entire life. My parents owned an art gallery and frame shop, so I was met with encouragement when I took an art vocation in high school. After that, I went to study fashion at Bauder College in Buckhead and moved into movie and television production shortly thereafter. But they weren’t for me, so when I met my husband I decided to take a break from working when I became pregnant with my son, Escher, who funnily enough my husband named, not me. I was an MC Escher fan from a young age, but Mike (my husband) suggested that we use his name.
I started painting when I became a mother because I was isolated in a sense. I couldn’t go out much because I had a tiny person who depended upon me, but I didn’t want to fall completely into a caretaking role. Painting was a great way for me to connect to something outside of myself. It became my coping mechanism. I had always been a productive, successful worker, so staying at home was hard.
Kacee Friedman // Photo by Kelley Raye
CC: How did that work?
KF: I painted when I had the time. As soon as he went down for a nap I would race to my easel, knowing that I only had a limited time to get something done. I worked in the gaps. I knew that I had to have something that was for me. I wanted to show him that [his mom] is a creative and that I deserve time to be creative. I actually think that his presence has made me a better artist because my subject matter became about the world that we live in. He inspires me. And now, at 6, he will give me his opinion on the pieces that I’m working on, suggesting colors and such. If he says that my work is trash, then I end up questioning it. Not because he’s in charge, but because, even though he’s little, I respect his opinion. I did it to myself — I created a critic!
CC: Do you constantly feel like you have to balance motherhood and art?
KF: There’s an art show every week in this city, so I don’t feel compelled to go to every event that I can go to. I have to make conscious decisions about what I can attend because I can’t neglect my family just to be “seen.” “Comparison is the thief of joy” is real. FOMO is real too, but I trust the universe that the things that I can attend are the things that I’m supposed to go to.
I’m lucky in the sense that I have a wonderful support system. My mom will watch Escher if there are shows that I really want to go to, and my husband is willing to go with me to art events, so we can have a date night on those evenings and no one feels like they’re missing out on anything. I’m a mom and an artist. Those two identities have to be copacetic. Otherwise, I’d be overcome with inadequacy and regret, and I straight-up refuse to live life that way.
CC: What helped you come to this realization?
KF: I’m a pretty spiritual person, not religious, but I 100% believe in the power of manifesting the life that you want. I do moon cycle journaling. With the new moon, I take time for a ritual meditation and time to journal. I write down what I want to accomplish and put it into the universe, trusting that if it’s the best thing for me that it will happen. So far, so good.
Spirituality helps me cope. I can truly say that I have real peace and real balance. Not many can say that, so I’m grateful beyond measure for that. I know it’s because my family is supportive. One day it just clicked that I am the luckiest person in the world. I, of course, had to work at it and drop the idea of what it was that I thought that I should be. I wanted to be a gallery owner and have a podcast and be an artist and a mom and a great wife, but there just aren’t enough hours in the day for all of that. When I dialed everything back to what is important to me, everything became clearer. Painting is important, and I get to do that every day. I don’t mean to sound smug — I just want to shout it from the rooftops that you can do it too! I don’t ever take it for granted.
CC: Fashion seems to have influenced a lot of your work. You frequently paint women in designer threads — why is that?
KF: I will argue that fashion is a true “fine art” until I’m blue in the face. When you think about the amount of work that goes into some outfits, it’s just astounding. And they don’t just sit on a nail on a wall; they live out in the world, moving and stretching over bodies, dealing with the elements and weather. Fashion means that you can wear art. It makes me excited just talking about it. I went to college for fashion design, and I literally get giddy over certain designers releasing their newest collections. To me, fashion is a huge inspiration, and I try and work my most coveted runway and ready-to-wear pieces into my paintings whenever I can.
I don’t want to make clothes, I want to admire them. I want to feel the fabric in between my thumb and pointer finger. I want to see how the light dances when it hits an invisible iridescent thread, or how a tulle skirt moves in the wind. Clothes are so romantic to me, and they make me feel special. It may seem shallow to some, but it’s an integral part of who I am, and I just have to embrace it. I love beautiful things… and because I can’t afford a Gucci wardrobe, I’ll paint one.
CC: What do you think of the Atlanta arts scene?
KF: I think it’s a great community to be a part of with lots of opportunities to show work [and] to show different types of work too, from maker fairs and pop-up galleries to fine art galleries and festivals. Atlanta has a really eclectic vibe — you can get dressed up in your finest or put on sneakers and jeans, depending on what you want to see. I think the caliber of work is getting better every year too. We’re definitely becoming a destination that artists want to be a part of.
CC: Where are your three favorite spots to see an art show?
KF: Facet. Kai Lin. Parlor ATL. Not necessarily in that order.
CC: Speaking of Parlor ATL, you have your first solo show there in May. What should we expect to see?
KF: Neon Landscape opens May 12th at Parlor ATL. It’s my first solo show and I’m so excited to show everyone what I’ve been working on. In short, it contrasts natural and unnatural elements. I use neon-inspired text to question what you see, or an unnatural color palette to shift your perception.
The words that I’ve chosen have more than one interpretation. For example, there is a church with the word “faith?” painted into it. I myself am spiritual, but I’m far from religious. Is that OK? Do I have to worship in a specific building? Can I worship at an altar? Does any of it matter? Where does your faith lie?
Another piece is an ocean scene with the “Thank You” graphic that you see on plastic bags. This piece feels so personal because I grapple with being a consumer and being a person that wants desperately to do better. I say no to straws, recycle, and try to use products that reduce my carbon footprints… but I also love this modern world full of convenience and beauty and single-use makeup wipes. This piece is thanking the ocean for all the gifts that she provides for us, but also acknowledges that we have abused her and quite literally filled her with trash bags.
I’m trying to do the right thing, but it’s hard. Painting about it lessens the guilt, gives me some power back and reminds me to keep doing better. No one is perfect, and the reason that I paint with a surrealist slant is that no one is perfect. I need things to feel a little “off” and uncomfortable as if you’re in that state between dreaming and consciousness. I want my work to be relatable.
CC: What are your plans for the future?
KF: I have pretty lofty dreams. Ideally, I would love a gallery/workspace for women like me. Atlanta has done a great job of offering different types of art, but I still feel like I don’t fit into any of the “scenes.” I want a gallery and experience space for women who love being women and have taste and elegance but are still cool. I want a gallery in between the Buckhead and East Atlanta headspace. I basically want a Goop Gallery. I need to get in touch with Gwyneth [Paltrow]… she definitely has some Gucci she can loan me for an opening!
See more of Kacee’s work on her portfolio site and Instagram.
