Mimi Lauter artist portrait courtesy of the artist and Mendes Wood DM, São Paulo, Brussels, Paris, New York. Photo by Katie Shapiro.
Mimi Lauter (b. 1982, San Francisco, CA, USA) lives and works in Los Angeles. Her work is characterized by vibrant oil and soft pastels on paper, creating richly textured, abstract narratives through layered and etched fields of saturated color. Her art draws from mythology, literature, politics, personal memory, and dreams to explore the relationship between image and existence.
Her garden serves as a continual source of inspiration, an ever-changing “epic mural” that parallels her creative process. Lauter’s use of pastels evokes the act of sculpting, as she builds and carves through layers of color to produce tactile, expressive surfaces. Her work navigates the tension between landscape and still-life, where the still-life symbolizes mortality and landscape embodies life’s potential, guiding viewers between grand, external experiences and intimate, personal moments.
We visited Mimi at her studio in Los Angeles, August 2024.
“Now, my concepts are more abstract, and focussed on the feeling of the painting itself as a kind of religious experience.”
Was there a specific moment when you knew you would become an artist?
I don’t think it was a moment because it’s something I’ve done my entire life. There was always art in our house. I was always surrounded by objects, art, my mother’s painting, and my grandfather’s collection. It wasn’t so much the idea of, “Oh, I’m going to become an artist.” I just sort of always was.
When I was thirteen or so, I took classes at the San Francisco Art Institute. There was a teacher who said, “You know, you can become an artist.” I was like, okay, and I decided I was an artist.
Mimi Lauter at her studio in Los Angeles, Photo by Andy Butler
How has your work evolved over the years?
There was a big shift when I started working with pastels in college. Although I mostly do oil paintings now, pastel became a major focus for a while. There was also a shift around 2014 or 2015, where my work moved from a flat approach to a more painterly one. This was due to a deeper understanding of the material. I started making thicker marks, thinking about what kind of brushstrokes I’d use if I were painting, even though I was using sticks. That was eye-opening for me. It’s important for artists to have phases where they’re figuring things out. Sometimes the work might not be the strongest, but it’s crucial for development.
Now, my concepts are more abstract, focusing more on the feeling of the painting itself as a kind of religious experience, without the need for a story or explanation. I used to feel the need to explain a lot, but now I just want to experience more.
When you’re viewing a painting, instead of trying so hard to get some clear explanation of it, just allow it to show you what it’s about. And, I think that’s why I bring spirituality into the conversation a lot, because it’s almost like a secular version of that. You start off with some kind of concept. You start off with an idea. You have to be inspired by something. But as you work on it, there’s always this point in the painting where it has decided to not be what you wanted it to be.
You can either fight that or you have to go “Okay, hold on” you have to ask, “what do you want from me?” And then you are there at the service of the painting. That is something that I think every good painter experiences – that hump. If you can get through that, you can make a great painting. If you don’t get through that, you get stuck in a boring space.
Gardens of Human Nature, Mimi Lauter, 2023, Oil pastel and soft pastel on paper, Triptych, 215.9 x 152.4 cm (each), Images courtesy of Mimi Lauter / Mendes Wood DM
Could you tell us more about your piece, Gardens of Human Nature?
(part of the Olivia Collection)
Gardens of Human Nature was also the title of the exhibition where I first showed that piece, and it was the main piece. I think painting is ultimately about trying to understand human nature. That’s really the goal. Whatever a painting is “about”—that horrible word— all the artists and painters, ultimately, they’re still trying to grasp human nature. It can be political, it can be formal, it can be sensual, and about color or other things, but it’s about our soul.
“The irony in painting is when you are trying to escape something, you actually have to address it.”
Temple of Sefirot, Mimi Lauter, 2020, Oil pastel and soft pastel on paper, Mural, Video courtesy of Mimi Lauter
The Temple of Sefirot, 2020
(part of the Olivia Collection)
The Sefirot are ten emanations of the divine power in Kabbalah, which is sort of the mystic part of Judaism. I’m not a very religious person but because I’m an artist, I feel like I have to be a very spiritual person, you know? And I’m certainly a very Jewish person. But maybe more culturally and traditionally and just who I am. But something that really excited me about Sefirot is understanding them more.
If you’re an artist, whether you like it or not, you’re going to be a pretty spiritual person because you have to feel so much. Or also, if you’re somebody that loves experiencing art, you don’t have to be a religious person, but it is this thing where you kind of tap into your soul every time and you should be overwhelmed, you should feel something, feeling. So, Sefirot, to me, has been sort of exciting to learn about because it’s the most visual part of Judaism, for one. But also, it doesn’t really talk about a God like this one guy, but it’s all these aspects of being and human nature.
It was a very cathartic piece. It was 2020. I live alone with my dogs and it was the beginning of the quarantine for the pandemic. I started to think about just creating this safe space for myself, which felt like a chapel so that maybe I’ll have my little, you know, not so much a happy place but a place where I can escape all of that. The irony in painting is when you are trying to escape something, you actually have to address it.
Mimi Lauter at her studio in Los Angeles, courtesy of the artist and Mendes Wood DM, São Paulo, Brussels, Paris, New York. Photo by Katie Shapiro.
“I think the point of art is to be extraordinary.”
What are you looking forward to in the next chapter of your work?
One of the things I’ve learned in looking back at all the work I’ve done over the years is that I’m very free to do whatever I want, and I don’t have to worry about what’s next, or even where it came from. I can repeat something if I want to. I can do something completely different. The most important thing is doing something I want to do and just being an artist, rather than thinking about where it’s going.
Something I’m always trying to be aware of is whether something is ordinary—when you don’t feel anything. While I’m working, I often find myself thinking, “Oh, it’s ordinary.” That sense of failure is motivating, even if it’s not a very positive mantra—it’s real. I think the point of art is to be extraordinary.