It all worked together because it was so beautiful.” By the time she left the museum, a door had been flung open in her mind: “I realized I could do anything with my paintings. “There was seemingly no connection, but I didn’t question it. They were vastly different and insanely decorative,” Smith says.
Each was unique, representing that warrior’s cosmology of power and protection. There were bronze helmets in the shape of an eggplant or elk antlers, elegantly embroidered images of cherry blossoms and tigers, and other wildly incongruent elements intricately sewn, sculpted, etched, and braided into layers of protective garments. Now, before her in the museum, was example after example of astonishing combinations of patterns, colors, symbols, and materials that made no outwardly logical sense at all.
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Before that day, the beautifully detailed animals that inhabited her paintings were set against vague, ambiguous backgrounds-not in their natural habitats but not yet free from a limited, logical conception of where they might be instead.
But during the brief time that Allison Leigh Smith stood transfixed in front of traditional Japanese samurai clothing and armor at the Phoenix Art Museum a few years ago, everything she thought was possible about her art changed irreversibly. Get the Southwest Art June 2020 print issue or digital download now–then subscribe to Southwest Art and never miss another story. This story was featured in the June 2020 issue of Southwest Art magazine.
Allison Leigh Smith, Tucked In, oil, 24 x 24.
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