Sandra Shashou – UK-based, Brazilian multimedia artist

„The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.”  Mark Twain

Sandra’s first exhibitions as an artist took place in São Paulo, in the building she grew up in with her parents. There, in the lobby of the multi-storey structure, she would present and share her work with all the tenants, already anticipating recognition and appreciation for her paintings. At the age of merely 5 years old, Sandra spent all her time drawing and painting, creating around herself a space that would become her studio, occupying a room in her parent’s apartment. And even though it was not all ‘plain sailing’ to realise her dream of becoming an artist, she knew then that art was her talent, her vocation – and that it would become her world.

What brought you to art? How did it all begin?

I was born in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, where I spent my childhood until I was 12 years old. Although I have a brother, I grew up as if I was an only child as he had been sent to England to boarding school. I was naturally drawn to arts and developed this space for myself in my parents’ apartment where I spent endless hours creating. I used to be very happy in my own little world – and still today, I am at my happiest when I am in my studio. I believe that talent is a natural inclination to do something repeatedly and effortlessly. However, I knew that I needed to study art in depth to further develop my capability.

So, could we say that your path was paved from your childhood?

My promising beginnings would suggest that; I clearly wanted to become an artist from a very young age. However, sometimes life takes a different direction to the one that we originally plan. I did art evening classes at the age of 18 to prepare a portfolio for my application for the ‘Ecole Nissim de Camondo’ in Paris. Although I was accepted, my father did not agree to send me there and instead offered me to become a partner in his estate agent business. I worked there for several years until I got married and had my two sons, Josh and Guy.

So, for a very long time, my vocation was on hold so to speak. It was only after my divorce and when my sons were in their early teens that I went to art school for 5 years, first to the Slade, then followed by City and Guilds London Art School. After fulfilling this dream, I started to work as an artist full-time, took a studio in Great Western Studios in Notting Hill and subsequently built a bespoke studio at the end of my garden. I have never looked back ever since.

Was there a specific moment in your arts career that you would see as your artistic breakthrough?

I started my career as a painter, focussing on portraiture, and continuously developed my style. I suppose every artist appreciates when their work, their art form, is associated with their name, recognised, and I am no exception.

It is hard to say at what moment an artist becomes a professional artist. When they have their studio and work in it? I believe that the moment one is a professional artist is the moment they make a commitment; when they start working with other people, build their reputation, slowly, before it becomes a viable business. It does not happen overnight.

If I had to identify a significant moment in my career, it would most probably be my encounter with the New York gallery owner Valerie Dillon in 2013 who, after having visited my studio and seeing my ‘Broken’ porcelain sculptures – at that time still in development – singled out the sculptures from the other works in my studio and introduced my new born creation to the US market. Valerie exhibited my work in New York and all over the US, and that was certainly a turning point. From that moment on, I really started to focus on working with porcelain, making it my material of choice and sculpturing my chosen art form. The fact that I created a unique language for my work that is identified as mine makes me feel successful. I want to leave a legacy with pieces that last.

Today, I am represented by Bel Air Fine Art in their 17 galleries worldwide, Markowicz Fine Art in Dallas, the House of Raro London and Magdalena Wahid.

Porcelain has become your signature material, your trademark. What attracts you to porcelain, and what made you incorporate it in your art in the first place?

Growing up I was surrounded by beautiful household ceramics and ornaments that belonged to my mother, such as Sèvres and Limoges porcelain, Gallé vases and Lalique ornaments. I developed an eye and appreciation for such treasures.

The first time I incorporated ceramic plates into a portrait was in 2013 in a portrait of Nelson Mandela where I depicted his colourful shirt in a technique reminiscent of mosaic. I used the broken shard of a terracotta dish that my son Josh had brought for me from Morocco. Much to Josh’s dismay, the dish had been smashed to smithereens in transit, so when he handed it to me, he was bemused at my delight in receiving this gift and excitement of how well the dish had broken in even sized pieces!

Always fascinated by the material, I later decided that I did not need the excuse of a portrait to work with the porcelain and that I could make art works with the porcelain alone. I then created my first ‘Broken’ abstract piece, only using porcelain, moving away from painting and transitioning to sculpture. Creating my first piece – it was a small, 30cm square, abstract wall sculpture in Turquoise and White Royal Worcester fine bone china teacups -, I didn’t realise that this development in my practice would be so significant later in my career.

Porcelain has a marvellous and very specific quality for me: I imagine the pieces I buy having had lives of their own, having been testimony to so many conversations, shared secrets over tea or coffee. It is exciting to search for the right piece – a turquoise teapot, a pink or a green teacup – and finding the colour that I need to continue with a particular sculpture.

Once in my studio, these objects in a variety of shapes and colours become my sculpting medium. Today, I am naturally and instinctively attracted to collecting porcelain. I am drawn to the beautiful tea sets used in my work in the same way a sculptor may have been drawn to a type of stone in the past, or as a painter to a particular colour palette. They are not chosen randomly. I look for makes that I like – Royal Stuart Spencer, Lladro, Lomonosov, Herend, Augarten, Wedgwood -, some dating back as far as the 1920’s. Collecting is where the work begins.

In a way, I am ‘recycling’ objects that would otherwise not be used anymore. How many people have wonderful vintage tea ware at home, just to keep them in their attic or in glass cabinets, too worried to use them because they could be broken? It is exciting for me to repurpose them and enjoy them in an art form.

You mentioned your series ‘Broken’. What is the idea behind it?

The series references bravery and courage, rebuilding after devastation, maybe rebuilding after a broken love. I treat breakage and fractures as part of the chance and fate of human life, part of our personal history. I embrace vulnerability and authenticity, after all in truth that is how we reveal ourselves and really connect. In a society seeking an image of perfection, ‘Broken’ has no flimsy facades. During my creative process, I deliberately break beautiful precious things to demonstrate that something can be broken and rebuilt to something beautiful new. I rearrange my broken ceramics and embrace their imperfections and flaws. It was Pablo Picasso who already said: ‘All creativity is based on destruction, the metamorphosis of one thing into another, the end of one entity or state, out of which emerges another.’

The viewers are often shocked to see me deliberately smash these magnificent objects. When visiting my studio, often, they will pick up a particular exquisite 1920’s Limoges coffee pot or a Lomonosov Russian sugar bowl and say: “Surely not this one!” And I would reply: “Yes, especially this one!”

The most literal, explicit part of ‘Broken’ are without doubt the pieces I created out of Lladro ballerina figurines. After the fatal crushes of my hammer, I am left literally holding missing limbs, heads and fingers, and the public naturally reacted quite strongly to these artworks.

The series ‘Resilience’ and ‘Balancing Act’ followed, the latter made of antique colourful tea pots, precariously stacked one on top of the other. Will the tea pots stay up or will it all go tumbling down? Life so precious but fragile…

Which characteristic would you attribute your success to?

I think, as with every person, it is a combination of traits. In my case, there are three things that describe me and probably contributed to my professional development and success: I am extremely creative and driven by making pieces that I am absolutely excited about. Then there is a certain resilience that every artist needs to have in order to find their own art form, their niche – as well as innovative ways to get to the desired outcome. Very often, I have to figure out new processes, processes that don’t have a handbook, or experiment with different materials to build my artwork. Not least I have a slightly obsessive nature, something my ‘Broken’ sculptures absolutely require. My pieces are made with an excessive, endless repetition and accumulation of an abundance of broken porcelain shards, and once I start making a sculpture, I have to continue adding shard after shard until it’s done. It takes dedication as well as a lot of time and patience.

Having grown up in Brazil and lived in the UK since you were 12, how have these cultures influenced you? Do you feel more British or more Brazilian?

I guess I am a ‘blend’ of different elements. Language wise, I went to a French school and spoke French to my mother. To my father, I spoke Portuguese, and with my nanny, I spoke Spanish. My parents spoke Arabic at home, so I also grew up understanding this beautiful language. English came later when we left Brazil to live in the UK.

Looking at the cultural influences I had from the countries in which I lived, I realise that I appreciate different things in them and take the best from the worlds I experienced: my Brazilian side represents my childhood, it is probably more playful, fun, dancing, laughing, carnival and Samba and unbelievable food. I do miss the Brazilian people and the happy-go-lucky side of them. On the other hand, I get a lot of wonderful things here in the UK: great British humour, BritBox, avant-garde British fashion, cutting-edge art and culture. My British side represents my adulthood; it is more organised, steady, being in time yet also creative. My sons are here in London, I work and have arranged my life here, appreciating how people are treated with respect.

However, no matter where you are: Visual art is a universal language that speaks to everyone evoking emotions, thoughts and feelings. Art has a way of speaking to our hearts without using any words.

Having built a solid foundation as an artist, found your place, having a wealth of experience – what is still to be done, to be achieved, left to dream of?

I’d like to make more work, travel, have grandchildren one day, I’d like to fall in love again … there is still a lot to do. However, I do believe that work will be the constant, my focus, my way to reach as many people as I can and connect with them.

My work is the link to everything, to happiness, the link to who I am.

(published 22nd March 2020)