COVERstory – JAMIE LUOTO the reappropriation of the body as a condition of existence

Jamie Luoto, born in 1987 lives and works near San Francisco, has developed an intense and significant artistic research through a production of works that, although marked by an intimate introspection, face complex phenomena such as trauma and identity.

In particular, his work focuses on the lasting psychological effects of sexual trauma, emphasizing how the body can be perceived as a testimony of suffering, but also as a space of resistance and rebirth.

His art is not limited to representing pain as a remnant of a painful past, but transforms the body into a territory of personal and collective discovery, understood as a field to be crossed, reworked and claimed.

Through this perspective, Luoto spurs on a rethinking of the female body, overcoming the narratives that relegate it to a fragile and limited object, and recognizing it instead as an active subject, capable of action, transformation and self-determination. His artistic practice is part of a broader discourse of vindication and rediscovery of the potential of the female body, proposing it as an element of autonomy, resistance and personal power.

THE INTERVIEW

How and when did you realize that art would become your life’s work? What events or feelings marked your first contact with painting and artistic expression?

I felt it from a very young age: both kids and adults praised my artwork, which primarily consisted of cats. Creating was how I made sense of the world. It lit me up inside and gave me a kind of peace that nothing else did. When I was about twelve, my art teacher pulled me aside to tell me I had a natural gift, and encouraged me to develop it. She suggested I apply to the Perpich Center for Arts Education, a special arts high school in Minnesota’s Twin Cities.

At Perpich I learned the practical sides of being a visual artist, and was exposed to art and the structures that support it. It was where I first understood being an artist was a real vocation. 

Between school terms I attended a summer watercolor program in Nocciano, Italy where we painted en plein air and visited museums in Rome. At the end, I sold my first painting. It was my first professional recognition and I understood then that making art would be my career. Italy will always hold a special place in my journey as an artist.

Was the decision to address sexual trauma, which is often invisible and internalized, as the central theme of your work a conscious one, or was it a natural progression of your artistic and personal journey? What were the deeper motivations that led you to choose this theme?

In hindsight, everything I had done before this work was preparation, but at the time it felt very sudden - the first painting literally appeared to me in a dream in December 2017. I called it I Believe in Ghosts and it became the conceptual anchor to every painting I’ve made since. I initially imagined a small series, but it soon became clear that this was an entire world. It continues to evolve – my current exhibition at Kristin Hjellegjerde Gallery in London, for example, is called Shadows of Unseen Grief and was inspired by an intense moment of anguish I experienced.

Your self-portraits are very profound and often intense, sometimes almost violent. What role do they play in your journey of self-exploration and how do they relate to the central theme of your research? Furthermore, how do they address the tension between the external and internal image?

An aspect of the tension between external and internal image I’m interested in is the notion of things hidden in plain sight. So while my self-portraits give form to what I’ve had to keep hidden, you may need to look closely. I want the works to reward repeat viewing, revealing layers of detail and meaning over time. The work reflects the non-linear, ongoing psychic consequences of violence, and in doing so, my paintings become both a journey of self-exploration and a means to illuminate broader truths about visibility and power.

How are still lifes integrated into your narrative, and how do you deal with the iconography and symbolism you choose to represent?

My symbols form part of my own feminine language, something I believe every woman possesses, but that often comes secondary to her fluency in the dominant male language. In my still lifes objects function as symbolic language, drawing on the tradition of 17th century Dutch still lifes. Paintings like Metamorphosis or Cherry Hare bring focus to specific ideas by isolating them in a more digestible way than when they are secondary elements of a larger, more complex figurative work.

What does the word "body" mean to you?

To me, the word “body” is inseparable from experience, perception, and presence. My work complicates the notion of the body by positioning myself as both artist and subject, so the viewer is confronted by both my humanity and their own responses — be they sexualization, empathy, judgment, pity etc. I create the environment, the scenario, and the gaze; I am in control. This is not narcissism, but a survival practice: a way to understand where I am, how safe or unsafe I feel, and whether I am fully grounded in my body. My work is in part about inhabiting and reclaiming my body, and asserting presence in a world that often demands we as women or survivors shrink or disappear.

How do you balance personal expression with the responsibility of representing such painful experiences? How does this choice connect to your idea of artistic and ethical responsibility?

I view my work as a radical act of vulnerability. I let honesty and my intuition guide the work, but I am also very aware of the line between expression and exploitation. Rather than reconstructing the who, what, when, where, and why of trauma, I lean into ambiguity, because to be a woman is to live in ambiguity. 

As both the artist and subject, I can consent and go as deep as I need to, but my work is not confessional. I don't recreate the past or reenact traumatic events. My work exists in the aftermath, in trauma’s psychological effects, memories, echoes, and the emotional landscapes. This isn't about spectacle or provocation, but about giving form to experiences and feelings that have no words. I invite viewers to experience contradiction, tension, and unresolvedness, and to consider their role in what they're seeing. Ultimately, I feel a responsibility to myself to not be silenced again, and to other women and survivors to contribute to a more honest discourse.

How do your journey and research today fit into the broader context of fighting against taboos surrounding experiences of sexual trauma or self-exploration?

I’m squarely in the middle of this fight! Survivors are expected to not only prove that something happened to them, but also that they didn’t deserve it. We’re blamed, disbelieved, and then pressured to “move on.” This is where my work takes hold, because I have no interest in revisiting what happened – I am, however, compelled to illuminate the aftermath of sexual trauma. It’s a psychological world that is messy, non-linear, and rife with taboos around the female body and its policing. 

Making self portraits is a way I counter my own capacity to dissociate, to detach, or to abandon myself. In my practice, instead of disappearing, I multiply. I become more present, more grounded, even defiant. It’s a process of rebuilding myself and reasserting my existence. Making myself visible disrupts the historic culture of silencing, erasure, and appropriation of the female body.

What messages do you wish to convey?

I appreciate how viewing art can reveal things about us, as viewers. I hope my work creates opportunities for self-reflection and dialog, encourages engagement with personal experiences and taboos, and makes the unseen visible.

THE ARTIST

Jamie Luoto (born in 1987) lives and works in the North Bay of San Francisco. His intimate self-portraits and still lifes investigate how identity is shaped, inside and out, with a current focus on the lasting psychological effects of sexual trauma. His work was included in academic fields, in particular in the course Feminism, Art and Metaphors of Trauma of the Honors Collegium of UCLA (2022–current).

The painting Minds Pass Minds If They Be Occupied was exhibited at the de Young Museum as part of the exhibition The de Young Open (2023), while We Hunt the Doe was a semifinalist at the Outwin Boochever Portrait Competition of the Smithsonian Institute (2022).

Luoto's works have appeared in publications such as New American Paintings (Editor's Selection, issue 175), Kunstforum International and Trebuchet Magazine; they have been presented on platforms such as Juxtapoz, Hyperallergic and Boooooom; and are part of international public and private collections, including the Green Family Art Foundation of Dallas, USA (2023).