The Art of Scotti Taylor [Artwork Descriptions]

“Midnight in the Garden” allows us to lose ourselves in the majesty of both nature and life itself. The tranquility of her shades of blue, touches of lavender, and accents of pink coalesce into a lush assemblage of foliage against the night sky. The petals, imbued with a sense of movement as if they are swaying or falling from their branches with each brushstroke, now intermingle with the swirling stars above. Despite this encounter occurring in the dead of night, the floral patterns appear illuminated. The moon’s reflection reminding us to take notice of the latent beauty often shrouded in darkness.

In a nebulous patchwork of paint, we witness darkness and light escaping from a cosmic collision—a big bang of sorts. Rust-colored clouds of stardust and glimmering constellations shine as they push against the negative space. Amidst the rushing colors, lines, and brushstrokes, the female form appears. Scotti Taylor transforms the beauty and ethereal nature of womanhood into her distinctive otherworldly form of abstraction. “Clothe thee in righteousness” becomes the culmination of Taylor’s aesthetic evolution. 

The piece embodies a simultaneous death and rebirth, a cycle that is known all too well by women. It is the moment when trauma is inflicted. The experience, while felt in different degrees, is an unfortunate unifying element of the journey through womanhood. Safety is compromised, power is shifted to the opposite sex, and our trust is irrevocably shaken. Just like the woman within the painting, cast out into the void of space, we often feel an inescapable obscurity that seeps into our psyche and our lives from that moment on. 

In a single instant, our consciousness has been shifted. Nonetheless, despite being laid bare and vulnerable among the darkness, we are beings of light and compassion. Our struggles lie hidden beneath the surface, as do the tales of our resilience. While, as women, we must carry the burden of our traumas, they are not all that define us.

Bright pinks, purples, and blues erupt among a background like the cotton candy sky of a summer night. The colors twist, tighter and tighter, coiling together. The interwoven strands that were once vibrant pinks and rich blues, coalesce into a darkened swirling cloud. Each plume of color still demands our attention, harkening for something missing. The effervescence of the colors and shimmering flakes of gold disillusion us. What appears so full of life and energy perpetually spirals, eternally longing, in search of something lost.

“So when the blue smoke of brittle leaves was in the air and the wind blew the wet laundry stiff on the line, I decided to come back home.”

-F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

Billowing upwards in calming clouds of blue tones, an aura of contentment consumes the piece. The antithesis of my stylistic approach to art, typically figurative with bright colors and unusual patterns, I found myself drawn to the inherent serenity of these cool colors in a phase of abstraction. Nonetheless, the chaos remains. Flickers of gold stand out among the tranquil background. Intense marks etched across the canvas begin to bleed. Granular elements of sand and small stones add a gritty texture. Among these ruptures, however, a fortitude persists. Reminiscent of my own life, where two decades of struggles finally led to a discovery that brought my family answers, a sense of grounding, and a new community, the blue smoke of brittle leaves is about the strength of finding peace.

“Nature vs. Nurture” represents a renaissance within my painting style as I return to the world of oil paints to enhance the themes of womanhood and life within my body of work. The piece confronts the timeless debate of whether our psychology is dictated by nature or nurture. Two faces, similar but not identical, mirror one another. While surrounded by flowers saturated with rich colors, flames billow upwards. While the flora does not erupt into a fiery mass, the faces cannot avoid the force of the fire, scorching their skin. Despite the elements of our nature that are instilled in us, the impact of our surroundings cannot help but leave undeniable marks on our lives and our souls. 

A dark viscous splotch splatters, drips, and bleeds down the canvas. As the darkness spreads, it reveals a system of roots joining these disparate regions of the work together. Pulsing through these twisting growing veins are the traumas that unite us. Here, the “Trauma Tree” has taken root. What blossoms before us is a tarnished family tree. Continuing to depict concepts of women’s health, their relationships, and their physical and mental struggles, this work accentuates the role of women as caregivers. As a mother, women carry the silent burdens and fears of ensuring their child’s wellbeing. Especially for parents who care for children with disabilities, like me, they often find themselves alone and at the mercy of healthcare systems with no services or aid to provide. 

In an exploration and new evolution of my style, the internalized emotions manifest with an abstract authentic expression devoid of traditional figurative forms. Adding an increased sense of intention to my practice, actively working every day on my creations, and slowing my process, have added a new atmosphere of seriousness within my body of work. Through my inclusion of oil paints alongside my signature use of acrylics and new textural elements with gesso, paper, and gel, more nuanced aesthetic facets elevate my message. In the deliberate act of creation, “Trauma Tree” creates a juxtaposition of light and gold that emanates from the background but is slowly consumed by the spread of these inherited, perpetuated, and hidden traumas that strain our ability to find peace, love, and security.

With a violent scream, a woman expels a winding serpent with such force that it expands across two canvases. In this diptych, I expose the frustration and desperation towards society and ourselves that we, as women, internalize. This is an exorcism, leaving the woman drained of life and color. The snake is accompanied by a kaleidoscopic swirl of colorful foliage, shimmering metals, and even a scribbled phrase, “I know all the words to your favorite Fugazi song”. Beauty and pain intermingle, revealing her demons to the world. Whether these demons be a desire to be needed, fit in, or feel wanted, these intrusive thoughts weigh us down. We discover that what we truly need is to take the time to better know, accept, and love ourselves.

A face submerged below the confines of the canvas emanates with fear as her hair becomes intertwined with a small swarm of bees. Disrupting the monochromatic palette with their soft gold, the bees construct a crown. Here sits a queen, a matriarch, and the essential element that allows nature to flourish. These bees carry another meaning, though. Bees also act as a healing remedy for women suffering from menopausal symptoms. Through repeated stings, the body fights the inflammation in an area in order to provide a sense of relief from the pain. As this woman’s eyes drip with tears like golden honey, the undeniable visceral reaction to the chronic pain, the torment of the treatments, and the struggles to obtain the healthcare we need and deserve continually flows.

A sunkissed desert palette illuminates the face of a woman. Exasperated or relieved, she holds her face in her hands while basking in the painting’s glow. The ambiguity of her emotion is met by the uncertainty of the image itself. An ornate frame encapsulates the woman, her radiating halo, and the seemingly desolate landscape she emerged from. Is this a sculptural relief, a photograph, or a reflection within a mirror? Regardless of its form, the piece creates a portrait of womanhood, where the layers of the surface do not always represent the struggles and triumphs that lie beneath.

60” x 48”

In an electrically charged portrait vibrating with pulsing lines and a prismatic range of colors, a woman and a wild cat share the composition. Playing on the parallels of femininity and a feline nature, Scotti Taylor subverts any notion of passive domesticity in favor of power and strength, even placing a shimmering golden crown atop the cat’s head. They are accompanied by the words “She had now known the weight until she felt the freedom”. A liberating cry from a now unstifled voice, we are awed by their scream, their ferocity, their roar.

Rosie the Riveter is an undeniable American symbol. While representing the significance of women taking charge and entering the workforce during the Second World War, today we still find women struggling for equality. Taylor transforms this iconic image for a contemporary age. Bright eyeshadow and nose ring, complemented by the artist’s signature use of florals, this modern Rosie is asserting more than a war-era cry for unity with her famed “We Can Do It!”. Now adorned in gold leaf, her classic saying now proclaims a call to action. Empowering women from all walks of life and experiences to come together, the piece illuminates the power of women to elevate one another and achieve new heights when working as one.

A face, eyes closed tight, is consumed by bleeds of color and etchings into the canvas’s surface. Lost in this cloud of chaos, she tries to focus, tries to find solace. Overcome by a paralyzing sense of anxiety, she tries to sort through the fears, the intrusive thoughts, and the blur of life itself. For the artist, this mirrors the struggle of coming to terms with the changes that occur in the life of women. We are told it is beautiful and natural, but it is also terrifying. 

Patches of gold, smears of green, and swatches of blue and red coalesce into a mesmerizing amalgamation of purple shades. Contemplative, a woman looks down on this kaleidoscopic vision of colors accentuated by hand-drawn echoes of butterflies and flowers. Purple, a color of status and royalty, forces an introspective look. As a woman, purple becomes a symbol of the power we desire, we deserve, and we find within.

Unlike other women in Taylor’s body of work, the woman in this work stares back at us, eyes open, and illuminated with a piercing gold. The shimmering iris appears even more striking as her face is devoid of color. A stark contrast within the composition, the vibrancy of the woman seems to have seeped from her skin into a rainbow palette beside her. Despite the obstacles, the tragedy, and the daily battles she faces, she refuses to let the scars take away her spark. 

As women, there is a desire to stop time. Youth and beauty are held in high regard as time marches on. We cannot help but wonder if there is a way to preserve a moment in time, lock them away, and cherish them. In this piece, the woman’s flowing hair now takes the form of cascading flowers. Her face erupts with new growth and life. Regardless of age, the journeys we take, or the new forms we embody the vitality of feminity is breathtakingly resilient.

At first glance this appears to be a simple scene of taking in the wonders of nature, smelling a patch of flowers. As the swirls of her hair become inseparably tangled with the stems of the flowers this simple moment is reenvisioned. The flowers become a mask, a gag, stifling her voice in the name of femininity. Veiled beneath the weight of expectation, hierarchies, and gender roles, is a voice yearning to be heard. 

The act of putting our heads in our hands is a recognizable one. Overwhelmed or overcome, emotions become too much to physically bear. It is a breaking point. Here, while the walls seem to melt, dissolve, and erase behind a woman exhibiting this universally understood sign of distress, her attempts to maintain composure shine through. Hair pulled back, carefully selected jewelry, and manicured nails. Nonetheless, despite these attempts to pull herself together, she can no longer hide that she is falling apart.

It is a common expression to try and keep your head above water. It is the struggle to maintain normalcy, to keep the status quo, to stay afloat.  As women, the role of mother, wife, daughter, and friend act are burdened by expectations that continually weigh us down. Here, Taylor cleverly crops the head from her composition. While people often see our ‘heads above water’, the idea of ourselves we present to the world, many fail to recognize the flailing fight against the sinking depths that occurs beneath the surface.

Adorned with a wreath of diverse, colorful, and blooming flowers we cannot help but feel as if a natural fertile goddess has been called forth. However, this crown masks the truth. The beauty, the life, the vitality of womanhood is more than some sort of biological imperative, it is the spirit and energy women radiate throughout their lives. Behind her eyes, a wealth of wisdom and beauty continually blossoms.