Jeremy Miranda is known for paintings that merge views from indoor and out, landscape and architecture, memory and the moment. But recently, he has just focused on the moment, whether in the studio or the woods. He spent the summer documenting daily life in a pared down, more personal and relatable way. And to remarkable results, as always.
An exhibition of his new paintings, “Summer Work,” opens with a reception on Oct. 2, from 5 to 8 p.m., at Nahcotta in Portsmouth. The Sound recently asked the Dover artist about the shift in his work, as well as what it’s like to live with another sought-after artist, Michelle Morin.
How have you used multiple levels or different scenes on the same canvas in the past?
I was experimenting for a few years with marrying different environments or spaces. Usually, it was a landscape or seascape coupled with an interior to act as a sort of narrative counterweight. I was hooked on this notion that wherever you are, you’re always occupying two spaces – your immediate surroundings, or the present, and the space in your thoughts, the past.
Is it particularly challenging to overlap and tie together more than one scene or subject?
I wouldn’t say it was a technical challenge, but what was challenging was hitting the right balance with the imagery to achieve something that wasn’t contrived or obvious. I think only a few were successful in achieving the mood I was looking for.
In that work, there’s sometimes tension between indoor and outdoor spaces, or manmade structures versus the landscape. How would you describe your relationship with nature?
I think my relationship with nature is a bit dysfunctional. I paint about nature, but a lot of my time is spent indoors working in the studio. It’s corny, but when I do get the opportunity to get outdoors I feel the most connected to it because it’s a kind of meditation during which you become hypersensitive to your surroundings.
You also seem to suggest some blurriness between memory and reality. What do you think shapes memories?
Well, I guess I’m actually more fascinated with the past versus the present, and how the two contribute to memory. Also, just how plastic and malleable memories are. They grow and change shape with a person over time.
Top of page: Late Summer Swimmer. Above: Free Chair by Jeremy Miranda.
Did any new or unexpected themes or thoughts come out of your newest body of work?
Definitely. All the work that involved overlapping environments was about invention and, for lack of a better word, fiction. I realized at some point that I was turning my back on my own life. The newer work is more about the things around me, things I see everyday. It’s exciting because it’s allowed me to be more receptive to the moment and respond in a more immediate way to interesting stuff I see. If I wake up and the light is doing something interesting in the kitchen, I allow myself to build my studio day around that, which is exciting because now my days are spent less in the studio inventing imagery and more about going out and foraging for them. The show that’s going up at Nahcotta is about 40 small paintings done in this way throughout the summer.
What have you learned or gained by paying more attention to the present as inspiration for paintings?
When you paint everyday like this, from your surroundings, you start to learn a lot about where you’re weak and where you’re strong. Color has been a struggle. Not just representing it naturally, but also thinking in terms of color and practicing restraint. But in general, doing less and paring down, honestly, has been the most valuable thing learned.
What’s it like being an artist married to an artist?
It’s wonderful. We talk a lot about one another’s work. We’ve also gotten really good at pulling each other out of the holes you inevitably fall into making work.
Does your work have anything in common with hers?
Sort of. On a real basic level, we’re both really interested in communicating a fascination with nature. But, and I’m just realizing this now, I would say that her paintings could almost be from an animal’s point of view where nature is more vivid and feral. Mine is more from a human’s perspective where there is just a general sense of confusion and wonder.
“Jeremy Miranda: Summer Work” is on view from Oct. 2 to Nov. 1 at Nahcotta, 110 Congress St., Portsmouth.