llio sophia is a neuroqueer individual who radiates mad scientist energy. Born in Reading, Pennsylvania, llio received their BFA in Studio Art at New York University and are currently obtaining an MFA in Performance at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. llio’s show, Night Light, took place in the NYU Abu Dhabi Project Space and was written up by Electra Street. Floral Furnace, another of Llio’s shows, took place at Kalerie s čupr uměním Saigon and was written up by Studium Artium Magazin. llio has been a fellow in the Visual Art Department at NYU Abu Dhabi, an artist-in-residence at DeLiceiras 18, an exhibiting artist at the Water Tower Art Festival, a studio artist at GoggleWorks Center for the Arts, an artist-in-residence at Temporary. Show, and will be an artist-in-residence at Fish Factory Creative Centre of Stöðvarfjörður. Llio is the Executive Director of Holly and the Neighbors.
The bird, 2021, Digital collage album cover., Collage by llio sophia
Flowerwork, 2016, Documentation of a Performance., Photo by llio sophia
Tall Chair, 2020, Chair, 8 additional chair legs, brackets, screws., Photo by llio sophia
Kiss Piece, 2019., Photo by llio sophia
Documentation of process of making a painting
Room of Leaves, 2015., Photo by llio sophia
Installation presented at DeLiceiras 18
I’ve decided I’m going to learn to sing. Nina Simone says getting on stage is how you unlock the door to freedom. My practice is about stimulating a sense of agency for myself and for others. When I say—my chair is tall. I mean, I can rest with my feet in the ocean while I feel my hands grasp the moon. When I talk about being stretched, I mean in every direction. Susan Sontag’s first impression of what an [artist] is is someone who is interested in everything. I find myself lost in wonder, unable to choose a direction, seduced by what may be behind every door. I learn to be lost like Florbela Espanca. I find myself at the bottom of the sea. Waiting for my upswing. Wanting to touch the sky. Oh, to crash down on your shores. To find you and I colliding. My heart pitter patters when I bellow out rain from between my teeth then, before I can stop it, a dangling chandelier disconnects from the ceiling and falls on the floor. Crash. An imaginary one, though. You still see these scattered diamonds reflect and refract the light all the same. Those wet messy marks. You see yourself match the doorframe you just walked through. You look up and find yourself on stage. Waiting for the audience to stop clapping.