Amanda Page Stephens was one of the first artists I met after coming back here from school, where I studied art history.

I had spent the previous six years looking at hundreds, if not thousands of works of art and talking about them on the highest philosophical level. So naturally, when I moved back, I sought out the artistic community with vigor. And while I was impressed with how many young underground artists there are working in this area, I was a little disheartened by how much of it just looks cool without actually being good. Then there was Amanda. The first time I saw her canvases, I felt like Peggy Guggenheim seeing Pollock’s for the first time. I thought, “This woman is doing something completely different. It’s intelligent and organic and brave. She’s found something intriguing and cracked it wide open.”

Stephens’ work is currently on view at aLatte Cafe (321 Granby, downtown Norfolk), with an opening this evening. Here, she talks with me about process, inspiration and artistic discovery.

How did you discover and develop your unique approach to art-making?
It all began in my sketch book during my first two semesters at SAIC. I was drinking so much tea to keep warm and to relax me at bed time. I really liked the marks the tea bags would make on the napkins. So I started throwing my tea bags in my journal and sketchbooks. I then experimented with tea stains and various fabrics. Eventually, I found that treated canvas captured the most detail.

What does it all mean, if anything? I just see and feel the process of the creating.

When you’re creating the works, is it important to you that they look pretty or are at least aesthetically pleasing?
During the creative process in my work I rarely think of the final outcome. It’s more about the process of mark making and bringing art making into a public environment.  In the studio or when I am out, I am very aware of balance and composition when I am deciding if a piece is finished. I try to deconstruct the canvas by burning it with cigarettes or lighting it on fire.

Let’s talk influences. You once invited me to an art-making party at which guests were encouraged to spill their wine and put out their cigarettes on your canvases and panels. It made me think of issues of “authorship” and “skill,” which came up in regards to Andy Warhol, who many questioned as a “fine artist,” since many of his works were produced by others at The Factory and simply signed by him. Are those things you contemplate in your work?
This concept hasn’t bothered me much but has been an issue with a few of my peers who have contributed to my work. They feel if I sell the work, they should get a portion of the sale.
I have to have parties and go to bars to make these works because I can’t possibly drink enough tea to make all these marks. Plus I don’t drink or smoke so I need my audience to give me my mediums. Many times, I feel as if I am the captain of an art making ship. That it takes many people to sail this ship to make it home. If something goes wrong, like the ship sinking, ultimately I am responsible. In other words these pieces wouldn’t be made if I wasn’t directing someone to spill or burn the canvas. In these pieces, the process is so important. It’s almost more important then the final piece. I want my audience to be able to say “that is my mark” and remember where they were when it was made. Many times these works document an event. I really want to challenge the world to think about the role of an artist. I’m not the type to endlessly hide in my studio making art. My work is social like I am. I do spend time with numerous paintings in my studio adding found objects, completing them.

The whole process also seems to confront the issue of chance a la Marcel Duchamp, whose masterpiece The Large Glass features a “design” of spiderweb cracks. How do you deal with chance in your art? Where is the line between chance and control?
I love accidental art. That is how I found my medium. I feel like I do have some level of control since I use droppers to make squares, circles and various other shapes. I have also recently begun using discarded charcoal brickettes to draw with.

What other artists have inspired you?
Pollock’s process of putting his canvas on the floor and how he handled the paint has influenced me.

Where else do you find inspiration in everyday life? How do elements like maraschino cherries find their way into your work?
My work directly speaks of what I come in contact with in my everyday life. I’m constantly picking up street metal and observing natural stains. Since I do not drink alcohol, I end up with a lot of Shirley Temples.

You come from an artistic family and were raised amongst an artistic community. Can you talk about what that was like? I was always surrounded by art and artists so I was very encouraged to explore being an artist. My favorite artists ended up being the artists I know: my father James E Stephens, Jennida Chase, Danny Holcomb, Wally Dryer, Virginia Van Horn, Ed Gibbs, etc.

The other day you mentioned to me that you’re hitting your stride creatively. Talk about that a little.
I am finally happy with my body of work. I feel as though I have a signature style that is consistent in each painting. Before I felt like I was searching for my voice and experimenting with numerous different mediums. I have worked in video, fiber, performance art, sound, sculpture, installation art, and traditional painting and drawing.

Do you think your artwork comes more from the cultivated mind of someone with a strong art education or from the heart and soul of a born artist?
I fully believe that my education has elevated my ability to believe in my mark making, my composition and medium. However I am still stumped as to what it all means. Graduate school could solve that. As far as having the heart and soul of a born artist, I know that’s where I began this journey. School gave me the skills to nourish the passion and continue into the world as a professional artist.