2023 Art Portfolio
Michelle SIFUENTES
ABOUT Me
Hi! My name is Michelle Sifuentes. I am currently attending Sequoyah School in Pasadena as a junior.
This year in Advanced Art Practices, I have been learning how to get comfortable with charcoal and creating observational drawings. I am just beginning to learn how to use other mediums such as oil pastels and watercolors. In the past year, my visual artwork has explored the theme of family, childhood, and my role as an older sibling. I explore the responsibility, nostalgia, and enduring love that define this pivotal role. My work aims to tell my personal experiences and identity using different mediums. I draw from my reservoir of my experiences, embracing both the joys and challenges of siblinghood. My creations are a testament to my family and sisters who have made me who I am today.
Observational art serves as the foundation of my art. From shared laughter to occasional conflicts, I use my art to document the essence of sisterhood. I engage in various artistic mediums, trying to push the boundaries in conveying the ever-changing nature of relationships. My artistic intentions is to celebrate the beauty and complexity of family bonds.
CONTACT ME!
MSIFUENTES2025@SEQUOYAHSCHOOL.ORG
Traditional
July 2022, 24x36, charcoal on newsprint
July 2022, 24x36, charcoal and graphite on newsprint
November 2023, 8.5x11, charcoal on paper
November 2023, 24x36, charcoal on newsprint
I find that drawing marine animals, specifically fish are more fun because of their fins gracefully waving in the water. I found that drawing this goldfish was extremely hard and considered giving up several times. There are so many intricate details such as the fish’s shiny scales and delicate folds in the fins that I unfortunately could not capture.
July 2022, 24x36, charcoal and graphite on newsprint
July 2022 24x36, size, charcoal on newsprint
November 2023, 24x36, charcoal on newsprint
This was my first time in doing an observational drawing of someone’s face without exaggerating any features. I found this to be difficult because up to that point, I had only been drawing figures and animals, and to suddenly be reduced to drawing only a head and shoulders without wearing a mask was intimidating.
November 2023, 24x36, charcoal on newsprint
Conceptual
May 2023, 5x7, collage
lost things
Kathryn Schulz’s book titled Lost & Found, is a reflection on grief and loss, happiness and gratitude. Her idea that small losses do not prepare you for big losses is an idea that I’ve always assumed to be false but have never really questioned.
To lose something is a profoundly humbling act. It forces us to confront the limits of our mind: the fact that we left our wallet at the restaurant; the fact that we can't remember where we left our wallet at all. It forces us to confront the limits of our will: the fact that we are powerless to protect the things we love from time and change and chance. Above all, it forces us to confront the limits of exis-tence: the fact that, sooner or later, it is in the nature of almost everything to vanish or perish. Over and over, loss calls on us to reckon with this universal impermanence with the baffling, maddening, heartbreaking fact that something that was just here can be, all of a sudden, just gone. (20)
Schulz says that losing her father is incomparable to losing something like your keys. Losing something like your credit card makes one feel irresponsible while losing someone makes one feel grief. My collage is a mesh of everything and everyone I have lost. have lost many things, I’ve lost pencils, combs, accounts and game progress and save points, earrings, but that did not prepare me for losing connections with people and pets. Losing something so special always reminds me of one’s permanence. From popsicles and game avatars representing lost friendships to dolls representing both the loss of innocence and toys, this collage is a recollection of all of my losses.
Hermandad
On May 28th, 2011, I fell asleep next to my—at the time only—sister. I was three and she wasn’t even a year old. More than a decade later, on January 25, 2023, my baby sister fell asleep next to me in the same position as my other sister when she was a baby. For the past thirteen-ish years of my life, I have played, fed, participated in screaming contests, and loved two babies.
In this collage, I experimented with the idea of layers. To create an effect in which pieces of my collage popped out, I put pieces of folded paper beneath the photo of my sisters and I. Sequins, buttons, and fake pearls were all staples of my arts and crafts as a child; by adding these items, I am taking myself back to my childhood, back to 2011, back to when I first became a sister.
En el 28 de mayo de 2011, me quedé dormido con mi—en ese momento unico—hermana. Tenía tres años y ella ni siquiera tenía un año. Más de una década después, el 25 de enero de 2023, mi hermanita se quedó dormida a mi lado en la misma posición que mi otra hermana cuando era bebé. Durante los últimos trece años de mi vida, jugué, alimenté, participé en concursos de gritos y amé dos bebés.
En este collage experimenté con la idea de capas. Para crear un efecto en el que salieran piezas de mi collage, puse trozos de papel doblado debajo de la foto de mis hermanas y de mí. Lentejuelas, botones y perlas falsas eran elementos básicos de mis arte cuando era niña; al agregar estos elementos, me regreso a mi infancia, a 2011, a cuando me convertí a un hermana por la primera vez.
February 2023, 8x10, collage
experimental
November 2023, watercolor and micron pen
January 2022, watercolor
This is my watercolor painting self-portrait. The purpose of this piece was to understand value while using different layers of watercolors. I personally like this portrait the most because I like the way my nose turned out. I found out the hard way that using white watercolor doesn’t actually make colors light (at least not effectively) and isn’t like acrylic, which has a lot of pigment. If I were to do this assignment again, I would use analogist colors instead of a singular color to play with blending.
November 2023, oil pastels
This piece is an oil pastel drawing of a Blue Tang. The original purpose of this piece was to experiment with chalk pastels but after stumbling upon oil pastels, I wanted to try them out. I found the texture of the pastels to be odd at first but then really freeing. I learned how to layer colors on top of each other such as yellow, brown, and green in the parts where the yellow fins are. The tail was a challenge because if I made it black, it would look dull, so I used dark blue and brown with green.
March 2023, pen and highlighter