Meet Rivka Nehorai | Artist, art educator, community builder

We had the good fortune of connecting with Rivka Nehorai and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Rivka, do you have some perspective or insight you can share with us on the question of when someone should give up versus when they should keep going?
When considering to keep going or to give up, I think it’s important to separate what you do for yourself creatively and for your own creative dreams and what you are providing as a service to others.

Creative people, I believe need to be always figuring out how to “refill their well”; getting inspired and then channeling it outwards. But an artists’ specific creative needs may change. I hit a roadblock after I got the COVID vaccine this April. We had just moved to California last August during the pandemic, and I had been painting furiously for months in the studio I set up in my home, more consistently than I ever had before. Then suddenly, the world opened up for me, and I found that I didn’t want to paint anymore. I had to literally take all the paintings off the walls of my studio and turn them backwards because I couldn’t even stand looking at them.

For a while, I was really disturbed by this change in desire. It scared me. I had read all of these creative manifestos where they encouraged artists to be consistent in their artmaking, to go into the studio everyday.. and I felt scared that if I stopped doing that, maybe I wouldn’t ever really want to start painting again. I wasn’t sure if I should just power through or not.

But Liz Gilbert’s book Big Magic comforted me, and allowed me to shift directions while also letting go of the guilt or fear. Gilbert talks about how we should just follow the next thing that we’re interested in. Just see where it takes us. And it can take us to some magical places.

So I let go of painting. I stopped for weeks. And I concentrated my energy on the only thing I was interested in doing at that moment; reaching out to new people and meeting up for coffee. I was still a newbie in town, I wanted to see what other creatives out there were doing. And it filled me up like crazy. It totally led to entirely new creative ventures and projects and, most importantly, made me feel a sense of belonging and wholeness.

I eventually did return to my studio, but at twice the enthusiasm and power as before, and my new ideas reflect my adventures outside.

But sometimes it really is time to call it quits. My husband and I ran a creative community for several years in Brooklyn. We would host variety shows, holiday gatherings, and – my favorite- casual get togethers all night where artists would come and share their work and drink and laugh together. It gave us so much purpose and joy to run this community. But a few things made us reconsider. First of all, I felt like I wasn’t giving enough energy to my kids, that my “mission” of changing the world through this creative community was actually causing me to neglect my children. Which of course felt so wrong. A creative life should help us become better friends, spouses, parents, not worse. Secondly, the community didn’t seem to fit our needs and ideals as much as it used to. I think it takes courage to stop something, especially when it’s still doing well. Changing is part and parcel of a creative life. So when we moved to California, we took along so many of the things that we learned running that creative community to implement in our new life here, but we also made sure to not let it overtake us.

Can you open up a bit about your work and career? We’re big fans and we’d love for our community to learn more about your work.
My art is about the transformational power of presence. I love to get into the mess and the chaos that surrounds us and to just sit there and revel in the absolute beauty of our fragility and imperfection. I believe that the act of sitting, listening, and observing raises our spirits and fills us with a sense of completion and motivation to move foward. We humans are miracles of flesh and bone and muscles tied together. In my work, I try to bring the viewer into that state of wonder at our existence.

I got into art out of necessity. I enrolled in an art class in high school and all I wanted to do was paint screaming, naked people. Which was kind of unusual, given that I was a very smiley honors student and track athlete who didn’t appear on the outside to be inclined to painting screaming naked people. But this is what I needed to come out of me. It was my way of confronting and supporting my internal chaos and putting it out there. But putting it out there, I found that I could find beauty in anger, fear, and imperfection and feel okay as a human being.

I graduated college with a degree in painting, but still wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with it. It continued to be a way of exhaling for me throughout the years. When I became a mother ( I now have three kids aged 5,8, and 10), it became as necessary for me to function as therapy.

Despite all of the bills, even when I wasn’t able to work when my kids were very small, my husband always supported me in getting a studio space. He understand the need of my artmaking not just professionally but emotionally. Spending hundreds a dollars a month for a creative need when you’re struggling to just get by is something I know must spouses would not necessarily understand, and I will forever be grateful to my husband for supporting me in doing that. I believe that it also saved our marriage; I don’t think I could have gotten through with small kids without it.

As the years go on, I just keep on cranking it. I keep on reaching out, putting work out there. Inhaling and exhaling and getting through this life through the creative impulse that is my lifeline. I’m always hungry for me, and I keep on trying to fill that need so that I can feed myself and others.

If you had a friend visiting you, what are some of the local spots you’d want to take them around to?
I’m super new to the West Coast, so I don’t know if I’m the best person to ask! But… of course the beach! I love Sunset Beach at dusk. No one’s around, it’s gorgeous, and you can dance around and do cartwheels with your pals while the sun goes down.

I also love Junipero Beach in Long Beach, where you can grab a free Yoga class on the Bluff, and then head down. I love Junipero Beach because there’s always someone listening to music on headphones and belting out the words, without a care of who will hear them. That reminds me of the wackiness of New York, where I lived for the last 8 years. Being around people who are singing to themselves just makes me feel safe. Maybe because they’re embracing that they’re not trying to fit into a box of what “normal” looks like.

Laugh Factory in Long Beach had an incredible line up in a show called “Brownish” featuring comedians of color.

I’ve only lived here during the Pandemic.. so I don’t know of any other indoor places!

Who else deserves some credit and recognition?
I want to give a shout out to my friend and creative companion, Leah Gottfried. Leah is a director, writer, producer and actor. During the pandemic, we started talking weekly. It began as a creative accountability partnership to touch base and support each other in getting our work down.

It evolved into weekly ranting, complaining, and just an amazing friendship as the pandemic upended our lives and we struggled to figure out how to swim in the uncertain waters of COVID -9

Leah is such a supportive person, who is always encouraging me to go for new ideas and to demand the money that I deserve. She has taught me what it means to be a good listener, and in every conversation, I strive to emulate her way of just listening and not interjecting and giving advice ( I always fail, but I try. Advice-giving is just so hard to resist).

Leah is about to land some fantastic producing gigs, so keep your eyes and ears out for some great new Netflix content!

Website: www.rivka.gallery

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rivkanehorai/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/rivkanehorai

Image Credits
Hannah Dreyfuss, Headshot photo