Diana Dot
Diana Dot |
by Claudia Rodríguez
In a time when references circulate at the speed of a scroll, few creators manage to construct a universe as genuine and personal as Diana Dot’s. Her multidisciplinary work, which mixes domestic archival materials, punk intuition, and a profoundly emotional gaze, is situated at the crossroads between what we were and what we are still trying to be.
We talked to Diana about her evolution as an artist, her project Marcablanca, and her book Archivo Diógenes.
Claudia: Pattern making, styling, photography, creative direction... As a multidisciplinary artist, which of these disciplines do you feel most comfortable working with today and how did you get there?
Diana: Photography is my raison d'être, I’ve been taking photos and videos for as long as I can remember. It’s my favourite tool, I guess because through it you can encapsulate time and think about existence. The first time I really understood what photography was, it blew my mind: I didn’t know how it was possible that through chemicals and darkness you could capture a reality that seconds later no longer existed.
Pattern making was the first thing I specialized in and what I like the least because of the technique it requires. To be honest, I prefer more intuitive tools, like textile modelling on mannequins or sewing... Collage, as a method for everything, is my thing. Working with textures by mixing different materials and painting is my passion. I always aim not to think about the final result, but to experiment in the process.
The creative direction and ideation process from scratch is what I enjoy the most, as I can mix all the previous disciplines to give form to whatever comes to mind. I find it hard to let go of my “personal signature” when I express myself, so when I’m offered to take part in projects without a lot of freedom or that are too corporate, it never works out well.
C: What role does intuition versus planning play in your process as a photographer?
D: When it comes to photography, I’m 200% intuition. I never think in advance what kind of shots I’m looking for, or what kind of poses. I dedicate myself more to thinking about how the final work is going to breathe, especially its colour. I do whatever I want with the light without following any technical rules. When everything is set up, I decide in an instant which way to shoot. When I have the raw pictures, I select the photos that move me the most and at most I crop them. I rarely retouch their colour, unless the work requires it for a specific reason. I like them to be as unfiltered as possible.
C: Absolutely. There is a point of “incorrect beauty” in everything you do, an urge not to polish your aesthetics.
D: I think it goes way back. I always looked at my grandmothers' photo albums as if they were the Bible. I discovered Polaroid and lomography cameras on Tumblr and We Heart It, where I would post the shootings I did from Blogspot. One of my photos went viral on Tumblr and was everywhere. That was the first sign to follow. As soon as I got a bit older I decided to experiment more with analogue photography, but also to go back to the pixel and to Tuenti [obsolete Spanish social media platform] photos. Above all, I like to edit photos without a digital editor, and thanks to this self-imposed rule, some cool stuff has come out of my process.
For example, one of my favourite techniques is to print two different photos on both sides of a piece of paper, and to put this against the light. When the light passes through the paper you get a mixture of the two, which you can then re-photograph and end up getting a “magical hybrid.” I like to create my own techniques by hand to get new imperfect textures, forgetting about Photoshop altogether.
D: Yes, documentary filmmaking. To be able to tell true stories with video art is something I want to do and I know I’m going to do.
First, by exploring my own visceral truth in the form of an experimental feature film. It sounds very “cool,” but I’ve already started to form a visual piece and I actually have no idea what I’m doing. The excitement about this project comes and goes, but it has been 4 years since I started writing and shaping it. Maybe it will never see the light of the day, but there we are, ha ha ha ha.
I would also like to work on documentary projects that tell truths outside myself, and with a purpose that is not only aesthetic or expressive, but to denounce social realities that I consider unjust, or to explore the biography of people I admire in some way, with a more journalistic intention.
Apart from the world of film, I want to try working with large-scale canvases, mixing many plastic techniques. It would be a dream to be able to exhibit my work like this, on a large scale, but it’s complicated, as you need a huge space to produce art like this and to store it.
C: All your work follows a very powerful aesthetic thread but with references as disparate as Julien Donkey-Boy or pink Apiretal [Spanish medicine brand]. What is the invisible link that unites these influences and how do they shape your style?
D: I simply think that I collect in my head all the things that have moved me inside. They stay there and when it comes to expressing myself they simply come out all at once, generating an original cocktail. But I think it’s not in a conscious way.
Being faithful to your references and aesthetics ultimately gives coherence to your work, even if these can sometimes be too contradictory. For example, I like shabby chic and grunge equally; listening to Killswitch Engage and Parrita, soko or Dominican dembow... I have films I often reference, like Barbie As Rapunzel, Who Can Kill a Child? and Ken Park; also Aronofsky's movies and the Silly Symphony short films. Just as you may like completely different food dishes, your references may be disparate. I think if you have a big inner world you can be full of contrasts that fit together perfectly.
C: If you had to describe your childhood in a palette of colours, textures, sounds, objects, or moments... What would it be?
D: I always turn to that period in my life for inspiration or as a creative reference point. I was born in 1997 and I could say that my childhood is purple-lilac, pink and mint, with the smell of an old Madrid coffee shop and churros with Colacao [cocoa powder brand], Chiquilín cookie bears [cookie brand], my grandmother's Miss Dior and her nail polishes, mixed with my mother's vanilla aroma... Estopa, Rocío Durcal, Cyberclub, lots of Paidoterín [Spanish cough syrup], The Little Mermaid, Chinese bazaars, going to the summer cinema and the beach bar in La Manga del Mar Menor eating salted almonds, or learning to be a consumerist in the Disney Store and the Sanrio shop in Parquesur with my mother. I remember I felt very sheltered as a child... Then things got complicated and I think I often go back to that stage because I was really happy, I lived in my fantasy bubble.
Now I’m looking to leave my past alone and focus on the present more than ever, creating a new brand to explore my surroundings. It’s going to be called HECHIZA (@tiendahechiza) (I heard the word “hechiza” in Mexico, and it means something like falsified, imitated, handmade, fake.... It also refers to the verb “hechizar,” to captivate and seduce). The basic premise will be to do the complete opposite of Marcablanca (@marcablanca_), my previous brand, but keeping my essence, because sometimes it is very painful to be completely stuck in the past.
C: How and where was Marcablanca born?
D: Marcablanca was born in Madrid in 2020 after spending 3 months locked in my room because of CoVid-19, smoking weed and complaining because my mother had done a deep cleaning and had thrown away more than half of my childhood stuff. At that point I decided to start compiling a digital catalogue of my lost items and started looking them up on the Internet. As I found them, I photographed them and later sublimated these images onto basic items of clothing, starting a kind of nostalgic merchandising brand.
Each of these objects from my childhood has a registered trademark, and, given the fact that I reproduce them, the name Marcablanca [meaning white-label, or store brand, in Spanish] was born. Without taking it seriously, today it still lives on, and at the moment I sell in New York, Mexico City, and Madrid. Soon there will be some items for sale in Berlin.
C: How do you see the Spanish creative scene after having lived in Berlin, the Dominican Republic and Mexico?
D: If we talk about fashion, the Spanish creative scene lacks spontaneity, colour and fantasy, embracing the freakish. But above all it lacks community among artists.
Honestly, I don't identify much with Berlin fashion, although I do think that many trends come 100% from the Berlin scene. Producing my clothes there was very complicated and expensive, so I wasn't able to experiment much. Clara Colette Miramon is a Berlin brand that I really like, though.
On the other hand, with Latin America's freestyle form of production, I have been able to grow by doing what I want. It has been very inspiring for me to learn from brands like Tiempo de Zafra, in the Dominican Republic–a firm with an important political discourse and for which recycling and textile use is the premise of every project. I also collaborated with Geraldine Rivera, a great friend and artist whom I admire very much. The kawaii and cute scene is not abundant there and it was great to meet her through our shared networks.
In Mexico City I've come back to believe more than ever in DIY as a praxis and in the spontaneity of trial and error, soaking up the full-colour, beautiful chaos of the city. I love that in places like La Lagunilla or El Chopo, markets similar to El Rastro in Madrid, all the city's most underrated young designers meet up every Sunday and set up their stalls while they drink and enjoy the day. Many of their pieces can also be found in some of the city's concept stores. I was there selling pieces with Sixtus, and in shops like La Sirène Store (my favourite), Rumor, or Delusion Fash.
It is something that here, at least in Madrid, seems impossible to fully realize and I don't understand why. I do see it as achievable, but there is a lack of community, and a lack of customers wanting to spend on clothes without comparing our prices with those of Inditex. Spain is the number one country in terms of fast fashion consumption, so it is difficult to have customers who decide to choose us.
We need more crazy, random events outside of Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week and the usual two showrooms, to be more spontaneous, without having to wait for the same old guys to come knocking on the door to get the approval of the whole scene. Of course there are amazing designers and brands here like Outsiders Division, Pattern Chineso, Evade House, Coconutscankill, Karlo Modenes... In short, there's a lot of talent but it's hard to be a bit of an outsider and get out there.
C: After the Marcablanca pop-up at Venus in Tokyo in New York, do you see your designs in a physical shop? If so, which one?
D: Yes, I had been following brutal brands and shops in CDMX on Instagram and I went there without a plan. Especially in the last two years there has been a huge growth and I didn't want to miss it. While I was there, I did a pop-up at the Rumor shop and later on I got the opportunity to present my book and brand in New York. Thanks to being there, taking notes, and gaining a lot of experience as a salesperson, I see myself fully capable of creating my own physical shop, I just lack the money.
SIAMESSE STORE has just been born, an online shop where you can find a selection of second hand pieces by drops: collectibles, antiques, prints, pieces for renting... It also works as a collective, with the intention of bringing together all the underground Spanish artists and brands that I love and that have a lot in common. I think there are a lot of cute, kawaii, freak people in general who feel orphaned or desolate in terms of their project being valued.
Last Sunday, November 23rd we did the opening sale in Barro and it was amazing. For the moment we are going to stick to the idea of doing one physical sale a month, both in Spain and abroad, with the goal of becoming a nomadic collective/shop until we get a fixed point of sale in the future.
Eventually, I would love to be able to open my own store in my neighbourhood (Carabanchel) or in the city centre, which would somehow become a meeting point for part of the Madrid scene: a shop/gallery where I could organise events, exhibitions, pop-ups or workshops...
C: What was it like to create and produce your photobook Archivo Diógenes [Diogenes archive]?
D: This project came about because Alejandra Cabrera proposed to me to make a book. A few years ago she did an article for Mixmag about the gabber scene in Madrid accompanied by some of my photos. I love the way she writes.
She first proposed to me to bring it out with the publishing house in which she worked, but finally for various reasons I decided to launch it independently anyway, although I also made it more punk than initially intended. The text that summarizes the project was written by her, and I will always be grateful to her for proposing it to me and for believing that my photos should be in a book. You can take a sneak peek at the book here.
C: You seem to be a natural collector. Is there a particular object in your archive that you consider special?
D: Yes, and this is my favourite question. I have millions but I'll try to make a top 10... My 101 Dalmatians painting case, an Ordning&Reda bag and case, some 90s Pingu figurites, my entire collection of labels and gift bags, my The Little Mermaid comb, the My Little Pony dolls I have left, a Hello Kitty bath set, my collection of toy cameras, my grandmother's Dior cologne and nail polish... and many more. I'd love to have a real house of my own so I can display everything the way I want.
If anything defines Diana Dot, it is coherence within chaos: an aesthetic that is sustained by references that should not fit, but do. Her fidelity to her own intuition has become her signature, imperfect but truthful.
Written by Claudia Rodríguez (@claaaurod)
Art by Diana Dot (@dianadot_)
Photography assistance by Pia de Rivera (@piaderivera)