New Folk

The influence of colonial powers in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries contributed to the idea of art as exclusive, a commodity, created by acquired skill, only recognized and valued through the approval of an institution. As a result, generations of American artists were marginalized, unable to join academia and, therefore, unable to profit from the network of an institution. While some African-American artists—notably writers James Baldwin, Langston Hughes, and Richard Wright—became successful by journeying abroad, where racial tensions were lower, many others, such as Sister Gertrude Morgan and James Van Der Zee, went unrecognized until the end of their careers, or their lives.

Through various efforts, such as the civil rights movement, the act of integration, affirmative action, and financial aid, Black and brown artists today have been afforded the opportunity to pursue the arts academically. They also have increased chances at institutional success through following the traditional route of earning a degree, gaining gallery representation, showing in museums, and developing a steady collector base. While this formula is promising, mixed-media artist Kyle Castro and photographer and installation artist Gogy Esparza are among a new generation who dare to redefine success and how it can be attained. These emerging artists are following in the footsteps of self-taught, outsider artists who have been making art for centuries. Not long ago, I sat down with them to learn more about how they navigate the art world.

Sasha Jelan: Tell me about your background. Where are you from and what kind of education did you have?

Kyle Castro: I’ve been creating my entire life. As long as I can remember. Nobody ever told me to do it, nobody ever really encouraged me. It’s something that I always did and I knew that it was something I liked. There is a website called Deviant Art and that’s what started me creating as much as I did when I was younger. I would post things when I was only nine. People could follow you, it was like an early Instagram. I stayed online heavily from 2010 to 2013, and I remember in 2012 they released Instagram. I always used it to joke around.

Around 2015, I started to see this generation doing what they do and it inspired me and made me realize that independence in art is a thing. I can independently represent myself, as long as I know how to market myself. At that time, I was not going to graduate. I didn’t go to school when I was supposed to go. I would go to school and not go and it got to the point where I was able to graduate, but I just did not take that opportunity. I was thinking to myself, “What am I going to do with my life?” I just centered myself.

Gogy Esparza: I’m Ecuadorian, and my family immigrated from Ecuador in the 1980s. I was born in Worcester, Massachusetts, a big industrial town with a lot of factories and predominantly working class. We all lived in a one-bedroom apartment in a housing project called Plumley Village. It was like twelve of us in that apartment—my aunts, uncles, and cousins.

I went to a diverse school. Everyone, for the most part, was in the same economic bracket and I think that bred an open mind. Growing up Ecuadorian, you don’t really feel American, so you adopt customs. Inevitably, I was product of 90s hip-hop. I was in the barbershop a whole lot, I would go there after school. The barbershop is like internet before the internet. You hear everything, music, sports, style—that was my upbringing. I first came to New York young, I’m talking five years old. We were walking through Times Square and I told my mom, “I’m moving here.” That’s what made me want to get out early.

SJ: When did you realize you were an artist and that what you were doing is art?

KC: Around sixteen or seventeen. I began looking at things more as pieces, representing conceptual ideas.

GE: In the hood, it’s like sports and music, but you don’t think you can be an artist. I didn’t even know what that was until I was nineteen or twenty. I was still thinking commercial.

SJ: How did you begin to learn a practice?

GE: I wanted to study fashion design. I got into Parsons, FIT, and Pratt but they didn’t give me any money so I went to NYU, where I got a large scholarship. I was downtown, and into the creative culture downtown. I met a photographer from the Bronx who photographed all the quintessential New York hip-hop culture, and I asked him if I could assist him and he let me. He said I should get a camera and mess around and that’s where it started. I also worked for the photographer Mark Borthwick. His home was a sanctuary, he had a tepee in the middle of the room with incense burning. He had collages and would be cooking for you and reciting a poem. I’d never seen an artist. He was so tapped into his world and that changed me. I started taking photography seriously, taking photography and film courses for two semesters.