2025/26 MCAD–Jerome Fellow Interview: Suriya SamKhuth

Becky Mutrux: You mentioned that your work is positioned within a "lineage of artists who follow, reimagine, and write the presence of trans womanhood into history." Who are some of the most inspirational artists and thinkers you connect to?

Suriya SamKhuth: Ebun Sodipo is performance and visual artist who explores Black trans womanhood/interiority on the internet and their presence in archives. I admire her intention to create work that lasts beyond herself. She positions her work toward trans people of the future. I think a lot about this intentionality to make things for those to come.

I’m deeply inspired by the work of the Archivo de la Memoria Trans based in Buenos Aires, Argentina. They produced these intimate and powerful photobooks that keep record of the lives of trans and travestis in the country. I still remember the electric feeling I had when I saw those photographs for the first time. They employ and include travesti-trans women in the process of archiving and preserving images/ephemera from their own communities. I find that to be powerful.

Kimowan Metchewais described himself not as a photographer but rather as “a sculptor of flat, rectangular objects of various textures and tone.” He made these “paper walls” that were made of photographs and could be folded and tucked under the arm. He produced and archived thousands of polaroid images—photos of himself, the landscape around him, his community, his hands. I feel materially connected to his practice.

BM: There's a physicality in your images that often feels absent from lens-based work. How does the materiality of paper and collage relate to the intentionality in your practice?

SK: I’m not really good with Photoshop and I was always frustrated that I couldn't fully articulate myself solely using a mechanical camera. Collage came from this simple impulse to make images using my own two hands. The collages start to take shape through these intuitive processes of arranging and rearranging images that I’ve transformed using screenprinting. I love how collages look like they are falling apart or unfolding or shapeshifting all at once.

I draw inspiration from carefully looking at how we live with photographs, specifically within photo albums. Some images are folded, while others may have notes written on their backsides. I began to consider how I could reuse these forms of mark-making to leave behind my own relationship to certain images. Over the years collage became this poetic way of speaking to this idea of self-determination or the self-fashioning of knowledge—which I find resonant for queer and trans people. There’s this very makeshift quality to collage that I’m enthralled by—they don’t feel fully resolved and demand you spend time unraveling them.

BM: You talk about recording and preserving trans memory through your art. Do you feel you are telling your stories, or those of others? How are those two things related?

SK: My work always begins from a personal place—whether it be a family myth, a memory, a photograph of a relative, or friend. I think in reimagining or expanding upon the stories and advice of others I’m always reflecting myself too. I find archives to be tricky things to work with because I’m always thinking through questions of permission, voice, and intention. To be honest I’m still questioning and working through how to balance my own voice and those of others that are always present in the work.

BM: Looking at your Body Wanderer series, I was struck by your choice to create monochromatically using the color blue. Can you speak about this choice and how you use color in your work?

SK: The Body Wanderer series is interested in exploring myths and dreams as these places for us to see other possibilities and visions of ourselves. The color blue references a dream I had before my transition. I dreamt I was sitting in a bedroom, and staring at myself in the mirror. My hair was so long and wavy like my mothers. The walls were this baby blue color. I woke up making the decision to quit cutting my hair in the morning after. I hold this dream dear to me because it felt like a message guiding me to this other way of existing. To me blue feels like this very spiritual, enchanting otherworldly color. Soaking the works in these dark indigo dyes takes the story elsewhere–outside of reality. In this way color can evoke a certain atmosphere or world the work exists in.

I also keep coming back to a comment I’d received during a studio visit with the curator Taylor Jasper. I remember her pointing out that when you put some limitations for yourself while making—in this case working with a single color—it allows you to play and fully experiment with other elements of a work like tone, texture, figuration, pattern, and so on. I try to remind myself of that when I’m creating.

BM: You were a fellow with the Emerging Curators Institute in 2021. I'm curious about the relationship between your curatorial practice and how you work as an artist. In your own practice, do you curate or selectively edit during the process of making? Or is composing a space something you think about after the work is finished? How does that influence the work itself?

SK: I see editing and making as two separate processes. Play, chance, and surprise are so important when I’m making. I try not to do both at the same time or else I’ll feel stuck and hold myself back from taking risks

My time with the Emerging Curators Institute was beautiful in that I was able to work so intimately with each artist that I was inspired by. I got to learn how each artist carried themselves, listened to the memories that inspired their works, and witnessed how they worked through conceptual or material challenges. That was critical for me as an emerging artist.

The exhibition featured at the M (Minnesota Museum of American Art), Sutures, took place during COVID so we were installing the works behind these street facing windows versus a traditional gallery setting. I had to think through how those biking or walking down the street would encounter the works. Helping the artists install their works and engaging with that type of space-making showed me how works take on a new life outside of the studio. I want to push my collages to feel more immersive and architectural for the Jerome exhibition, so I’ve been reflecting through how I can conjure that sort of presence within the gallery space.

BM: How has the MCAD-Jerome fellowship impacted your practice?

SK: I feel very lucky to have been awarded the fellowship this year. I finally have some momentum with my practice so it feels very critical to have this level of support and care during this generative time.

I’ve been able to use some of the professional development funds to attend a series of professional artist writing workshops led by Cheryl Mukherji, cover the costs of attending an ACRE residency this summer, and make simple purchases like buying an archival folder to store my collages. I feel so grateful that I can make these sorts of investments in the longevity of my practice.

Sometimes I get anxious about not taking advantage of opportunities to their fullest so I’ve been trying to regularly go to MCAD and the library as much as I can. It’s amazing to have a place to read, write, scan materials, print screenprinting designs, ideate. It’s sweet being in this supportive community with Keisha, Melanie, and the other fellows in my cohort. Everyone’s work feels very distinct and personal. I’m curious to see how our works will unfold alongside each other within the coming months.

BM: If you could describe your work in one word, what would it be?

SK: Puzzle