Heartbreak is probably one of the most inspiring feelings for artists. We’ve read books, listened to songs and albums, and watched movies about it. Now, if you’re in New York, you can also see some abstract paintings that bloomed from that scar. Artist Nizhonniya Austin is having her first solo show in the city at Tara Downs gallery, titled The Year of the Vampire, on view through February 22nd. “Anybody can be goth, but it takes suffering to be a vampire. So I crowned myself with my vampire-dom,” she tells us in this exclusive interview.
Talking to Nizhonniya is equally fun and eye-opening: she brings in a sense of humour (especially when when she declares that “Bed is my religion, and sleep is my god”), a sense of pride (about being Native and growing to question everything she had been taught), and a sense of darkness — no explanation needed. Many people got to know her through The Curse, a TV show starring Emma Stone where Nizhonniya played an artist. On and off camera, she’s endearing, mysterious, and a great storyteller. So today we speak with her about her favourite vampire-esque things, overcoming heartbreak through painting, and growing up in a Mormon household.
Hi Nizhonniya, it’s a pleasure to speak with you. You’ve just opened the solo show The Year of the Vampire at NYC’s Tara Downs gallery. After the event, what have you been up to lately to unwind?
I actually sleep a lot — about eight to ten hours a night, and I stay in bed for as long as I can before I do anything. After the show, I left NYC and went to Taos, New Mexico and stayed in bed there. Bed is my religion, and sleep is my god. It’s Oscar season too, so I’ve been trying to go to the movies as much as possible. I’m not into sports, so the Oscars are my Superbowl.
You wear your Indigenous Diné and Tlingit identity as a badge of honour (as you should), and it’s an integral part of your art — paintings, poetry, music, etc. Could you tell us a bit more about your upbringing and how it affected your artistic practice?
Being Native is, of course, a central part of my identity, but I was born and raised in Juneau, Alaska, and Albuquerque, New Mexico, so there’s a definite duality to my experience. I was also raised Mormon, and I think that shaped me in some significant ways. Growing up in an environment where so much was suppressed and everything felt forbidden, I often found myself secretly daydreaming about the artist’s life — a life of freedom, and a life of ‘sin.’ That dream became everything I wanted. I think that upbringing contributed to my rebellious nature and my deep need for liberation. It’s probably also why I’m so drawn to abstract expressionism. For me, it’s a way of fully exercising my freedom in a two-dimensional world.
Let’s dive into your exhibition. The title, The Year of the Vampire, draws from your personal experience — a brief romance that didn’t work and drained you, but also the realisation that you were also a vampire to yourself. Could you expand a bit more on that?
Absolutely! The person I dated was very vampire-esque (in both their appearance and the way they lived their life), and I always thought so highly of them because of that. It made them so unique, and I often felt like I could never be as cool because, honestly, what’s cooler than a vampire? Nothing. Then the vampire broke my heart, and I spent a lot of time painting and thinking about them. It was only fitting to call the show The Year of the Vampire. But as I worked on it, I realised the show wasn’t just about them or my heartbreak — it was about me.
I wasn’t about to make a man the focus of my life or my debut NYC solo show (even though he was a very kind and gracious person). I started reflecting on all the qualities vampires possess. One of the most important ones is resilience — they live forever and endure through famine, plagues, and wars. They also thrive in darkness, and over the past year, I realised that I thrived in my own darkness too. That’s when it hit me: it wasn’t just him — I was a vampire too. Anybody can be goth, but it takes suffering to be a vampire. So I crowned myself with my vampire-dom.
I wasn’t about to make a man the focus of my life or my debut NYC solo show (even though he was a very kind and gracious person). I started reflecting on all the qualities vampires possess. One of the most important ones is resilience — they live forever and endure through famine, plagues, and wars. They also thrive in darkness, and over the past year, I realised that I thrived in my own darkness too. That’s when it hit me: it wasn’t just him — I was a vampire too. Anybody can be goth, but it takes suffering to be a vampire. So I crowned myself with my vampire-dom.
“Growing up in an environment where so much was suppressed and everything felt forbidden, I often found myself secretly daydreaming about the artist’s life — a life of freedom, and a life of ‘sin.’”
Your practice is very physical. Speaking to W, you told them: “Sometimes my body does really weird movements when I’m doing the paintings, and I don’t even know why I moved in that way.” How would you say that physicality informs or influences the final result of your artwork?
I think body movements are incredibly important — any dancer can attest to this. The combination of our movements and the energy we emit can open up energy portals — and by ‘portal,’ you can interpret that however you like. When I paint, it feels like a portal-opening ritual and the possibilities become endless. Sometimes, I feel like I’m opening a gateway to my heart. Other times, I feel like I’m connecting to my ancestors or tapping into a single phone line linked to the world’s collective prayer. Art and movement are truly magical, and I feel deeply honored to experience the spirit of creativity and all the gifts it brings.
Spirituality also plays a pivotal role when you paint. You’ve stated that your paintings are like prayers, and that you connect with your ancestors through them. Has painting always been a spiritual or even meditative practice to you? Or has it evolved through time?
I think it has been spiritual and meditative for quite some time but it wasn’t until recently that I started figuring out the practice and establishing a real relationship with it. That’s one of the nice things about getting older: you start to experience your art as it should be experienced.
I see you also like listening to music when painting. Do you have a go-to playlist that gets you in the right mood/mentality? Or does it change?
It changes; it depends on my mood. I don’t have a go-to playlist but I listen to Wicked Game on repeat a lot — it’s my favourite song of all time. Literally, every cover of that song and Wild at Heart’s instrumental version of that song.
“Painting has taught me so much about myself. When you’re locked in a room with nothing but paints, a canvas, music, and a chair, your mind tends to wander and ponder many things.”
On an Instagram post discussing the exhibition, you explain: “I turned to painting searching for a way back to myself, trying to untangle the meaning of life and what it means to be an artist.” How has your relationship with yourself changed through painting? Or even the perception of yourself?
Painting has taught me so much about myself. Abstract painting, in particular, involves a lot of self-exploration because of the solitude and self-reflection it requires. When you’re locked in a room with nothing but paints, a canvas, music, and a chair, your mind tends to wander and ponder many things. For this particular series of paintings, I found myself thinking deeply about the meaning of life and love — and the role love plays in our lives. I believe love is the most powerful force in the universe, and I feel that a significant part of being here is learning and exploring what we, as mortal humans, do with an immense force.
When we think of love, we often associate it with the relationships we have — with our families, friends, animals, lovers, and neighbours. But because life is happening all around us, these relationships can become complicated or distorted, and love’s pure energy can be diluted in the chaos of greed, jealousy, or loneliness. In this life, I think it’s up to us to show that we can handle a love so powerful in a world that often treats us so harshly — and to treat that love with tenderness and gratitude. To me, this is the meaning of life. This is what being alone in a room, painting and performing my ‘rituals’ has helped me navigate and understand.
When we think of love, we often associate it with the relationships we have — with our families, friends, animals, lovers, and neighbours. But because life is happening all around us, these relationships can become complicated or distorted, and love’s pure energy can be diluted in the chaos of greed, jealousy, or loneliness. In this life, I think it’s up to us to show that we can handle a love so powerful in a world that often treats us so harshly — and to treat that love with tenderness and gratitude. To me, this is the meaning of life. This is what being alone in a room, painting and performing my ‘rituals’ has helped me navigate and understand.
You’re an artist in real life, but you also played an artist in the TV show The Curse. What was that venture into acting like? Would you like to take on more roles as an actress?
Acting and painting feel quite similar. They’re both drawing from the same creative well, but acting feels like you have to be naked while painting in a room full of people watching you. There’s something thrilling about it all — I love it. Having my first acting gig opposite Emma Stone was quite the adventure — both a little frightening and liberating. I’ve always wanted to act since I was a child, but I’ve also always wanted to explore everything the creative world has to offer. It’s that creative pot that we artists are all pulling from that fascinates me. I want my whole life to be about pulling from that pot, studying it, and learning from it.
I do have this great movie lined up to shoot this summer — it’s like Tangerine meets Mysterious Skin. I want all my future acting roles to align with my personal philosophies and artistic exploration. If they don’t, I’ll just be painting and working on other things.
I do have this great movie lined up to shoot this summer — it’s like Tangerine meets Mysterious Skin. I want all my future acting roles to align with my personal philosophies and artistic exploration. If they don’t, I’ll just be painting and working on other things.
To finish, and honouring the vampire figure, I’d love to know a couple of things: 1) Have you watched Robert Eggers’ Nosferatu? If so, what did you think? Because I loved it! 2) Could you recommend us some vampire-related stuff (from movies to books, to artists or music)?
1) Yes! I have seen it. I loved it too! So beautifully shot. I’m obsessed.
2) Absolutely! My favourite vampire film is Only Lovers Left Alive by Jim Jarmusch. I’m a huge HUGE fan of the soundtrack, which was scored by Jarmusch’s music project, Sqürl, with Carter Logan, and it is so perfectly vampire. I also really love Let the Right One In. I’m also listening to many Ragana and Divide and Dissolve for modern vamp vibes.
2) Absolutely! My favourite vampire film is Only Lovers Left Alive by Jim Jarmusch. I’m a huge HUGE fan of the soundtrack, which was scored by Jarmusch’s music project, Sqürl, with Carter Logan, and it is so perfectly vampire. I also really love Let the Right One In. I’m also listening to many Ragana and Divide and Dissolve for modern vamp vibes.
