About Tanya Tull

Tanya Tull is a Los Angeles-based artist who, after a long and productive career as a social activist and impact leader, returned to her art full-time in 2020. Tanya studied at the Claremont Colleges in the 1960s (BA in Art and Humanities, Scripps College) — and continued painting after that, while also working and raising a family. Her life took a sharp turn in 1980, however, after reading an article in the LA Times about children living in Skid Row hotels. Within weeks she had incorporated a nonprofit organization, Para Los Niños (For the Children), intending to lead it for a year as a volunteer — and then return to painting. At the same time, the new arts community in Downtown LA had begun to take hold, as artists moved into studio lofts in converted warehouses. Tanya subleased a large art studio nearby and began painting on weekends — while working at Para Los Niños during the week. Based in LA’s Skid Row almost seven days a week, Tanya found herself with a “front row seat” as homeless people — including families with children — began appearing on the city streets. Unable to turn away, Tanya co-founded LA Family Housing in 1983 and founded both A Community of Friends and Beyond Shelter in 1988. She then worked over the next 25 years to promote systemic change on a national scale.

Today, Tanya is painting prolifically again fulltime. She is particularly proud of her artist son, Dani Tull (MFA Stanford), who shows both nationally and internationally and co-founded two art galleries, the Highland Park art gallery Odd Ark LA (2017-2023) and Cherkovski, based in Brooklyn, NY. Tanya’s uncle Herman Cherry (1909-1992) was an early Abstract Expressionist painter of the New York school. She believes that he would like the art that she is making today.

ARTIST STATEMENT

During my years as a nonprofit leader in efforts to end homelessness in the United States, I still hoped one day to return to making art. I came to firmly believe, however, that it was my ability to “color outside the lines” that enabled me to apply my creative skills to addressing challenging social problems. That I was able to experience the connection early on gave me some solace over the years. . . . My return to making art again, however, required a gradual mind shift from problem-solving about issues in the world outside my door to solving the complexities of the canvas.

Although I primarily painted large abstract canvases decades ago, that art has been slow to return. What I have experienced instead is a steady movement forward, grateful that I have time at this point in my life to paint again. No, it does not come back immediately — and it is absolutely NOT like riding a bike! Working primarily with oil on canvas, my work has evolved over the past few years into a language that communicates not only the primordial essence and timelessness of the natural world around us, but also the “wild things” hidden within. In my work, spontaneous and organic forms emerge and evolve into fragments of landscape, verdant growth, or the human figure, but never fully resolve into fixed imagery. Each canvas is infused with gesture and layered movement, riotous color and shapes that continually change as each piece evolves. I paint immersed in a dreamlike state — as my subconscious moves between abstraction and recognition, between fantasy and reality, between what could be and what might actually exist in the harsh light of day.

With layers of underpainting often showing through, the paintings exist for me as fleeting reminders of what came before. The viewer may see shapes or colors begin to take form, but that vision is often just beyond reach or has disappeared — or perhaps was never there at all. I am fully aware as I paint that each stroke is a new moment in time — some of which will remain memorialized on the canvas when I am done. At the same time, much will be painted over and simply gone. But to know that it was once there is often enough.