Erika Ranee: I Don’t Like to Draw
It is possible that Erika Ranee can tell you the life story of every painting she has ever made. She seems to remember every pour of paint, every rotation of the canvas. Built in layers of paint wash, shellac, spraypaint, oilstick, and found collage material, each piece begins on the floor, with Ranee pouring on the paint. She then embarks on an intuitive process of reacting—building, embedding, obscuring, and revealing by scraping back layers. Everyday items find their way into the paintings: a scrap of handwriting from a postcard, a leaf from a money plant. Each piece becomes a time capsule, recording the days, weeks, months, and even years that Ranee worked on it. Even her use of shellac seems to reference the passage of time, as moments are captured and frozen in shiny pools like amber.
Ranee describes her process as a state of conscious flow in which she lays down materials and responds with a series of marks. She repeats the process over and over, sometimes obscuring portions of the canvas with opaque layers of paint or collage. Her willingness to obliterate and then rebuild reflects the freedom she has found in abstraction, having shifted over the past two decades from using explicit imagery that examines racist Black stereotypes to the lush and layered works we see here.
In the exhibition title and her artist statement, Ranee refers to her complicated relationship with drawing and the burden that Drawing-with-a-capital-D carries. The idea of tight, hyperrealistic rendering is anathema to Ranee. She views drawing as an influence, a hint, rather than a stand-alone, self-contained practice. Drawing shows up in many ways in Ranee’s work, some of them overt and some a bit sneakier: using spray paint like a thick piece of charcoal, or transforming drips from a paint pour into twisting tendrils. Ranee’s embrace of abstraction as a liberating force has allowed her to rediscover drawing as a bold, exuberant world full of gestural possibility.
— Sarah Freeman, curator
I’ve always had a fear of traditional drawing—the kind of disciplined detailed observational studies you get lost in for days and months at art school. It never came easily for me. Thankfully, I somewhat overcame my fear by the time I graduated because I had a great teacher who helped students achieve results through unconventional methods. We studied the mathematician Fibonacci as we sketched pine cones, and made copy studies of Renaissance classics. It was hard work and required deep focus, and it worked.
Years later, I became an art teacher myself, sharing those effective drawing lessons that had been passed on to me. I found that I enjoyed teaching drawing more than I enjoyed drawing within my own practice. As a diehard abstract painter, I tried to free myself from the burden of drawing.
Imagine my surprise when people looking at my paintings often note the prevalence of drawing! I hadn’t even thought of my mark-making as drawing, but there it is. If you tell me I’m drawing, I unwittingly distance myself from the process, but if the drawing unfurls in a manner that I don’t recognize as drawing, then I’m lucid and carefree. Go figure (pun intended).
When I interviewed for my first teaching job, I was asked about teaching a drawing class. Filled with mild dread, I explained that I didn’t like to draw, and would a painting class be available, perhaps? My future boss was undeterred. She thought I’d be a great fit for the class. I explained that I “build” drawings from scraps of collected marks. She loved the idea. She wanted students to experience different approaches to problem solving while making art. Despite my protests, I was hired on the spot.
While you may never see me blithely drawing in the spirit of Leonardo da Vinci’s studies for the “Madonna and Child,” or creating precision figure renderings like those by Elizabeth Catlett and Charles White, I do love immersive markmaking that is more in keeping with James Siena, Howardena Pindell, and Indigenous Australian art. I’ve learned throughout the years that drawing covers a wide range of techniques and execution, and I’ve finally found my vocabulary within its lexicon. Just don’t tell me I’m drawing and I’ll be fine.
— Erika Ranee
ABOUT THE ARTIST
Erika Ranee is based in New York City and received her MFA in painting from the University of California, Berkeley. She was the recipient of the New York Foundation for the Arts (NYFA) Fellowship in Painting in 1996 and 2021, an AIM Fellowship from the Bronx Museum, and an artist residency at the Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture. She was awarded a studio grant from the Marie Walsh Sharpe Art Foundation in 2011.
Ranee’s work has been featured throughout the New York City region, including in a group exhibition at the Southampton Arts Center and solo presentations at BRIC/Project Room and Klaus von Nichtssagend Gallery. In 2019, she had her first international exhibition at Wild Palms in Dusseldorf, Germany, followed by a second international group exhibition in 2024 at Brigitte Mulholland Galerie in Paris.
In 2025, Ranee participated in group exhibitions at PPOW Gallery and CANADA Gallery. In 2024, her work was featured in solo ventures at the Moss Arts Center at Virginia Tech in Blacksburg, Virginia, and at the Arts Center at Duck Creek in Easthampton, New York, as well as in group exhibitions at Venus Over Manhattan, Ortega y Gasset Projects, and Springs Projects, all in New York City; and at Left Field Gallery in Los Osos, California. In 2024, Ranee was selected for The Brooklyn Artists Exhibition, a celebration of the Brooklyn Museum’s 200th anniversary. Her work has been reviewed in The New York Times and Artforum, and included in group exhibitions at Steven Harvey Fine Art Projects and The Landing Gallery in Los Angeles; Hollis Taggart Gallery in Southport, Connecticut; and the Milton Resnick & Pat Passlof Foundation in New York City.
RELATED EVENTS
November 15, Saturday, 5 p.m. — Opening of New Exhibits
January 17, Saturday 2-4 p.m. — Workshop: Trust the Process
January 17, Saturday, 5 p.m. — Art Talk: Erika Ranee
RELATED AUDIO WITH ASL-ENGLISH TRANSLATION
“The Hound” and “Take Your Meds”
“A Big Bowl”
“How Do You Turn Me Off?”
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