Bella Maria Varela

Nicolás Dumit Estévez Raful Espejo Ovalles Morel: Bella! We met in Austin a year ago and it is a pleasure to connect with you. I admire your curiosity for learning. What keeps you wanting to get up in the mornings and propelling forward into life through this mystery that we call the body?

Bella Maria Varela: FOOD, of course! The epitome of pleasure. It's usually the first thing I think of when I get up in the morning. Just the thought of tasting something delicious in my mouth is enough to drag me out of bed. Ever since I was a little kid, my mom would wake up extra early and make us a thorough breakfast: a smoothie, beans, tortillas, eggs, and a slice of queso fresco. She would wake us up by yelling up the stairs “ el desayuno está listo!” and we would come running down the stairs. Now as I start a life with my partner and all our pets, I do the same for them.

Food creates balance in my schedule and life, and I count on it to keep my schedule balanced. A significant part of my artistic practice revolves around experiencing joy through sadness, and nothing materializes this sensorial experience like food. Not only does it get my body and bowels moving, balancing my systems, but it is also a vehicle to start conversations and connect with other people and creatures. Whether it's a hearty meal around the dinner table with friends, munching on appetizers during the cocktail hour before a party, having coffee with my partner every morning on FaceTime, or feeding my dogs a hearty meaty meal; food plays a crucial role in these connections.

NDEREOM: I have such strange relationship with food. I like the idea of it, and food almost killed me twice as a baby. I tend to eat alone or with people I feel safe. Interestingly, food has been big in the actions that I generate, and so there is usually something to eat in my performances and experiences. Also, I carry food in my backpack all of the time and share it along the way. It makes me feel safe.

When was the last time that you cried and when was the last time that you laughed? I am asking because emotions seem to be such a taboo and so much of my work deals with emotions. This might be true for you as well, since I witness you navigating issues of immigration in your creative practice. Tell me about it…

BMV:  Feelings are at the core of my work; at its essence, it is a way of navigating the challenges and triumphs of being first-generation and watching family and loved ones navigate the immigration system. So, to answer your question, the last time I deeply cried was when I was working on job applications. There is nothing that triggers my imposter syndrome like working on my application material, having to synthesize all the things that make me a qualified candidate; it's about condensing all my life experiences into a couple of pages that could determine my future. However, sometimes I struggle to be the best reflection of myself, so I really rely on others to help me through this process. Whether it's editing a cover letter with a peer, meeting for lunch with an old mentor, or simply chatting with others about their career paths, these conversations help me recognize that everyone faces challenges when applying for jobs or opportunities. Transitioning from one opportunity to the next is challenging, and migrating from one country to another adds an additional layer of difficulty that I aim to visualize in my work.

I recently showcased my textile piece, Purple Unicorn, in the exhibition titled Somos Recuerdos at the Visual Arts Center at the University of Texas Austin. This exhibition was curated by three talented undergraduate students: Fabiana Muñoz-Olmo, Alan Aguilera, and Julio Martínez, whom I had the honor of mentoring through this process.  The dye sublimation print is a video still of a documentation of a performance featured in the video @border_becky (2021). A drone captures the main character, Becky Lopez, waving blissfully in the San Rafael Valley, a grassland on the border of Nogales, MX. On either side of the fleece print are two leather cowboy boots arranged on cinder blocks.

On one boot, a photo transfer showcases an image of a Bureau of Land Management agent looking through binoculars, actively surveying the land for unwanted visitors. Conversely, on the opposing side, I incorporated a photo transfer of an Application for Naturalization N-400 form, a document necessary for applying for US citizenship. This visual representation serves as a reference to a memory of witnessing my mom in tears after being denied citizenship. I vividly remember her frustration as she walked away from the government building, having been denied her citizenship. We recently talked about this memory and she told me she called the office for a week straight until they finally approved her application. The next week she booked a flight and went to Guatemala to see her family for the first time in 12 years.

Purple Unicorn is a term used to describe a candidate profile possessing skills and experiences believed to be so rare they are almost mythical. These application processes make you feel like meeting their requirements is impossible, that reaching the other side might be unattainable, hindering the ability to seek safety, refuge, reunite with family, and live one's dreams. This piece, like many of my others, is a manifestation of my anger and frustration with the immigration system.

NDEREOM: Texas in general is one if not the most contested spaces I have been to. You helped me film and edit the first video-performance-dance that I conceived in this state and you were a first-hand witness to what came out of my somatic depths: yells and cries and screams. How have you navigated through your work this section of the Earth?

BMV: Yes, it was a beautiful experience that validated my feelings of frustration. Like yourself, I have also filmed myself in vulnerable states. Typically, when I reach this point in my work or life, it signals a need to gently encourage myself to step out of my comfort zone and experience something new. This practice proves especially helpful when living in contested and controversial spaces like Texas and Arizona. While these places are marked by sadness, violence, controversy, and trauma, there are also people, families, and communities making it work and finding joy within sorrow.

During graduate school, I took a class taught by my mentor, Sama Alshaibi, which I referred to as the "walking class" because the exercises prompted us to work outside the studio environment. This experience taught me to find inspiration outside of the class, take risks, and learn how to be a balanced artist—lessons that I am now passing along to my students. In Austin, I enjoy walking my dogs in new neighborhoods, swimming at Barton Springs, trying new food and restaurants, exploring thrift stores (even if I'm not buying anything), attending art shows, and mentoring students, all of which help keep me grounded. Engaging with the perspectives of young people through mentoring allows me to feel entangled with the place.

NDEREOM: I have to say that there were moments during my residency in Texas when I felt more at home in Bosnia and Herzegovina, or Kyrgyzstan than in Austin. It took me a year and half to get my feet on the ground in this place, and I thank my amazing neighbors in East Austin for helping me see hope in this Republican state. I now greatly admire their lucha, their struggle, and all it takes to be a activist in Texas and to go against the oppressive top-down systems that seek to dominate communities there, to silence languages other than english (lower case in purpose), and to deem all Others as a threat to the Euro-American national narrative. You too are doing the work through your creative praxis. How do you stay balanced? What are some of your practices for equanimity?

BMV: It's important for me to get involved in community organizations, spend time with friends and family, and cultivate personal interests—these activities provide a necessary balance to my own practice and teaching. I recently became a member of Mass Gallery, a queer experimental gallery on the east side of Austin, and I'm thrilled about investing in this community. Last month, I helped one of the members curate an exhibition titled Hyper Femme, and it was rewarding to assist someone in realizing their vision. In March, I'll be curating an exhibition, and it's nice to plan within a community in which I know I'll be provided support and won't feel alone.

I also enjoy trying new things, especially those that make me feel anxious and insecure, as these are usually the things I believe will push my own practice forward. When I moved to Austin, I got involved in the Scottish Rite Theater alongside theater and dance professor and Director, Roxanne Schroeder-Arce. I learned how to stage manage, act (sort of), dramaturg, and direct multimedia works into performances.  I appreciate getting my hands dirty, working my way from the bottom… up, understanding all the different roles, and examining what already exists. This approach helps me see how my work can contribute to an ongoing conversation. It's a community-facing method of research that requires patience, but I'm thinking long-term about how to ensure my practice is responsive, keeps me connected to others,  and brings me joy.

NDEREOM: I brought up the topic of experimentation when we met. In my opinion, the expectation is that us artists of cultures or of color should circumscribe ourselves to producing work that addresses the ills that plague society. I shared with you that I want to do that and I also want space for making work that does not make sense. I want to have the luxury and the privilege to work conceptually or abstractly when and If I choose to. How has this situation been for you?

BMV: Oh, I really struggle with this. I think part of it is because I've been, what I call, institution-hopping for six years now—well, maybe my whole life, honestly. From non-profits to the Smithsonian, to grad school, residencies, and now this fellowship at UT at Austin. So, I've always felt the need to make "important" work or work with a clear purpose that speaks to broad audiences. In the times I've made experimental and nonsensical work, I feel like I've been met with a "huh?" and that has been off-putting and slightly embarrassing. But I'm currently at a point where I believe that the confusion could be a sign that I'm moving in the right direction. For me, the key is to find ways to vocalize the importance of the nonsensical, play, and experimentation as methods to inform my more political work. I see it as an integral part of the creative process, and I believe it's worthy of appreciation and, if I'm fortunate, could be funded. I aspire to begin creating for myself again, and I believe it will provide me with more direction as I move on to the next stage of my career.

NDEREOM: I want to hear about your four-legged ones, and I am purposely shaping this conversation in a way that does not always make sense. That is where the essence of things usually is; in the unconscious, in the chaotic and in the messy and non-literal. Please go ahead and talk tails and hooves.

BMV: Ah, my favorites! I live with two medium/small-sized dogs named Darla and Ifwe. Darla is from Tucson, Arizona, and we became a family when I was in grad school at the University of Arizona in 2021. She is the most stubborn dog ever, but so loving and intelligent—probably smarter than me, honestly. Then there is my gentle Ifwe; he is from the El Paso/Juárez area and joined our family in 2022 after I saw his picture on the Humane Society's Instagram and I knew he would be a great fit for us. My goal would be to live somewhere where I have more space and live with more animals. They are a great source of happiness in my life.

I've learned a lot about loving animals through my artist friends Raven Moffett and Marianna Hoffmeister Castro. I've learned that they are autonomous creatures that I coexist with, not that I own or that I saved, but beings with their own lives. Even in conversations about the US-Mexico border, I ponder how animals, creatures, and critters cross manipulated boundaries to seek safety and find resources. How does this man-made infrastructure keep them from thriving? On a slightly better note, scientists recently captured an image of a jaguar on the Huachuca Mountains in southern Arizona. The photos taken of the juvenile jaguars so close to the U.S. border could suggest that this beautiful species might be breeding and expanding their territory. Within Latino culture, animals like wolves, eagles, tigers, and jaguars are often depicted as symbols of strength and resistance. I wish, rather than just symbols, we could put these ideals or values into action and secure a future for them within our landscape as well.

NDEREOM: I agree. All creatures, in my opinion share this thing called life. I know that this can get complicated ethically, and I dare to say that we are all ONE, and that all beings are animated by the same force.

What is the role of your family in your creative practice? How does their role in your life inform the mundane in your art, such as meals and hugs and affection and challenges?

BMV: Oh, they are all models; this is a family business, haha! I always return to documenting my family in my work because I'm consistently considering the ethics behind capturing images of my younger family members, especially babies. They don't have the ability to consent, so I struggle to find a way to include them in a narrative. Currently, their existence is the most important one guiding me and giving me purpose. I’ve introduced a nautical baby doll as a stand-in for the babies, contemplating the future of my family and community. I'm currently thinking of ways to implement VR tech to be able to replicate the gentle and tender moments I enjoy with my family. We will see how that goes!

NDEREOM: I had the fortune of staying with your family in Washington, D.C. and spending time with them. Your parents and I had such meaningfull conversations and I am very grateful for their hospitality. I thank you. Is there anything else that you would like to say that you have not articulated yet?

 BMV: I love your interview questions; they were so much fun. When I saw the first one, I was like 'hell yeah.' The only thing I want to add is that I'm in a moment of transition in my life, so I think if we chat in a year, my answers might be different. Who knows?

NDEREOM: That is okay. We are always in transition. Thank you for this dialogue and I will see you soon, Goddess willing, at the next spot where we will film. I have a skirt, a crown, and a pair of pants ready for the camera.

BMV: Thank YOU!

All images and videos courtesy of Bella Maria Varela

Bella María Varela’s links: Website / Instagram / Spotify / Vimeo / email

About Bella Maria Varela: Using video, photography, found objects, and textiles, I create installations that layer my personal experiences with American history and popular culture. Navigating the fine line between playful and critical, my work explores the intersections of immigration, family, gender identity, and sexuality. Within my work, I dissect iconic materials and archives to critique mainstream anti-immigration rhetoric and subvert the appropriation of Latinx culture. I rearrange personal and found video footage, TikTok songs, thrifted souvenirs, and San Marcos-inspired blankets to create physical gaps where new meanings can be interpreted and carve out spaces where hybrid identities can exist and thrive. Using rasquache sensibilities, I distort ideas of patriotism and nationalism, revealing the hollow promises that lie beneath them. Through my multimedia practice I have developed my own hybrid language to visualize my family's migration from Guatemala through the US-Mexico border to Washington DC and the shores of New England. 

My video and photography work combine analog photography with green screens, 360 cameras, and drones to create non-linear narratives that reference viral political and pop-culture moments and critique the way online audiences consistently create, consume, and virtue signal during times of crisis.  I play the role of multiple characters within my videos–e.g. Border Becky and Koncious Kyle–as a method of self-examination, seeking to encourage a deeper understanding of my own actions and their impact within my communities.

I use dye sublimation printing to transfer my imagery onto fleece blankets and then combine them with found polyester blankets .The pictographic fleece blankets are inspired by San Marcos Blankets that were first manufactured in Central America and bear images of pop culture icons, homeland heroes, and picturesque landscapes. These blankets are passed down through generations, traveling across geographic and cultural borders, and are emblematic of the immigrant experience. My soft sculptures and assemblages replicate the atmosphere of informal marketplaces found near the border including parking lots, roadsides, and swap meets. The mixed media installations mimic being wrapped up in fuzzy warm blankets, doom scrolling through images of the silly and banal next to images of violence, racism and war. This convergence serves as a poignant representation of American experiences of privilege and confusion. To access Bella Maria’s CV click HERE