Yesterday, we spoke with the multidisciplinary artist and photographer Azz Rodríguez. Originally from Chiapas, Azz has made self-portraiture one of the central themes of her work. It serves as a personal journal, but also as a tool for self-discovery that she combines with her work as an art therapist.
Do you apply the synchronicities you encounter in life to your art as well?
Everything—absolutely everything. You have to look at life holistically. Understand that everything is connected—even art and your everyday life. It doesn’t matter what we do as artists or what discipline we pursue; in the end, it all becomes an extension of ourselves.
You’ve really excelled at self-portraiture—can you tell me a little about that process?
A lot of people know me for that style, for my projects focused on self-portraiture, but I always say that, in the end, everything we do—even if it isn’t literally a self-portrait—actually is one. And ultimately, what you do as an artist ends up being an extension of who you are, of what you carry inside, of what drives you, and of the themes you address.
Is it cathartic? What is your process in that regard?
It started with a conversation I had with my mother. That’s when I kind of started to get scared of getting old. It has to do with Oscar Wilde’s *The Picture of Dorian Gray*, where this young man, who thought he was handsome, wanted to remain eternally young and handsome. A portrait is painted of him, and a spell is cast so that the painting is the one that ages while he remains eternally handsome.
In my case, let’s say I did it the other way around. I thought I couldn’t immortalize myself as eternally young, but what I could do was keep portraying myself as time went by. So, as time went on, I fell in love with self-portraiture and came to see it as a tool for self-discovery and empowerment. I always view self-portraiture as a log, like a visual diary that I’m keeping. Self-portraiture, in addition to being a visual diary, has become a kind of therapy.
Do you have any rituals when it comes to painting or making a creative decision?
I often perform my own rituals to connect with that creative freedom—with that creativity that isn’t physical. I always say: creativity is spiritual; it’s energetic—because you take something that’s right here, in the air, think about it, feel it, and then get started. To me, that’s creativity.
The result is the piece you see in an exhibition, but to get there, the artist went through a cathartic—and often therapeutic—process involving light, shadow, and vulnerability. As a psychologist—which I also am—I always say: embrace vulnerability. That’s where your senses are most acute, and that’s where you can create wonderful things in art.
Beyond self-portraits, what other themes have you yet to explore?
Suddenly we see so many issues that are important—I’m not downplaying them: wars, deaths, chaos, chaos, chaos—but I tend to lean much more toward the other side: the therapeutic side, the side of helping myself and others, and the side of having fun. As human beings, we adults gradually lose that ability to have fun and to be amazed. We become too boring and serious—even when it comes to art.
And I say: Hold on a second—what I’m doing here is art, too; I’m having fun. I think that’s part of my therapy: we can have fun in art, too. It doesn’t all have to be chaotic or dramatic.
Is there such a thing as the perfect self-portrait?
I’m not interested in them creating the perfect self-portrait, with perfect technique and one that’s beautifully perfect. Of course, we’re always looking for beauty—we all like to see something beautiful—but more than that, I want to see honesty. And you can see it—you can see the honesty in what you’re doing. It’s not just about the “I want to look beautiful” pose; it goes beyond that.
In my workshops, I’ve sometimes had people come up to me and say, “I thought you were going to teach me how to take pretty pictures of myself.” Well, guess what: no. What I’m going to take you on is an inner journey through art, through the body, and through photography.
What does your role as an art therapist entail?
This training is transpersonal art therapy. It is a branch of psychology—transpersonal psychology—and one of its foundations is meditation. For me, meditation is an essential part of my daily life, and I teach it a lot as well.
In art therapy, what I do as a facilitator—as an art therapist—is lead a series of introspective exercises in which I help people enter a state of self-reflection, recognizing the emotions they’re experiencing and how they’re feeling. Through guided meditations and physical exercises, you enter into a connection with yourself.
You mentioned that each work of art is a self-portrait. As a psychologist, can you look at an artist’s work and gain some insight into their personality or create a profile of the person who created it?
A lot of the time, you’re creating from what hurts you. And then there’s the other side. There’s generally a tendency to gravitate toward what hurts, toward chaos, toward that darker side we all have. Many artists and galleries are exploring that .
In the ” Resilience ” series, you always appear with your face covered. How did that come about?
During my lockdown, I began to see the objects in my house as possibilities beyond their intended purposes. It was a bit like that little girl who’s stuck at home and starts to realize that she can use a box to play with, or put a lamp on her head.
I was playing around with objects in my house, but also keeping in mind that we were in the midst of a pandemic—with the utmost respect, without downplaying what was happening outside—and I thought: well, since they’re asking me to cover my face so I don’t get sick, I’ll cover it with whatever I can find.
So I started playing around a lot with covering my face. It’s a series where, in every shot, my face is covered by something—an object, my hair, or plants.
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