Chantal Brocca
Writer/Creative Director/Stylist AGE: 29 NATIONALITY: Italian INSTAGRAM: @chantalbrocca
Did you always know you wanted to get into a creative field? I think it was my initial instinct from when I was quite young. My siblings and I would lounge about all day drawing, painting and coming up with stories and fantastical characters for our soon-to-be-released mangas. I was also a professional dancer with Sharmila Dance from the age of 16, which was a huge part of my life for so long. The issue was that I was quite lost and torn between what all the adults around me thought I should be doing, and what I felt in my bones I had to do. I was impressionable and allowed doubt to take up prime seating in my head. It was also during a time in the UAE when being an artist wasn’t an ideal goal – business was the order of the day. Going into a creative field didn’t seem so simple. So, when it was time to make a choice, I let people choose for me and went to study International Economics and Management. I hated it but I’m also not a quitter, so I focused so hard on making it through that I lost all ability to write, to draw, to paint, to lose myself in my mind and let chaos take me places. I felt like I caged and hid such a big part of who I was that I wasn’t me anymore and it showed in every aspect of my life. I’ve been slowly coming back the past few years and it’s impossible to describe in words what it feels like to finally be true to yourself. Where do you find creative inspiration in this region? Everywhere. And in other countries as well. I don’t make, or rather, feel a distinction between this region and others when it comes to creative inspiration. I think the key is to keep an open mind – to notice everything and be curious about why this and why that. I have to say though, that this region is particularly interesting because it is such a mix of cultures and even time zones. Since everything moves so fast, there's a lot of creative fodder to take in when noticing the varied and contradictory facets that make up its landscape. I love observing the break between old and new Dubai. Old Dubai was forgotten for a while, but it’s been rediscovered the past few years and it feels like diving back into my childhood. I find I’m looking differently at all these things I took for granted in my early 20’s, from beautiful, unmapped oases in the desert known only to those who live far away from modern city stimuli, to the chaotic streets that lie beyond the World Trade Centre. Do you feel this region is stereotyped by what the media represents it to be? How are you playing a part in helping to change this? I think every country or culture is somehow stereotyped by the others. In the current climate I feel it is important to comment that not all misconceptions arise out of hatred but simply out of difference, and difference and diversity is something that we are meant to be celebrating. That being said, people who have never come here imagine all Dubai residents ride around in golden carriages. They don’t realise it’s just like any other city where some are rich, some are poor. People work really hard here, but you don’t hear about that abroad, they think we have it easy. That’s also a side effect of the kind of marketing and images put out there to attract more tourists. It also has a bit of a reputation abroad for being all about luxury and partying and for being quite superficial. While there is a definite truth to this, these aspects overshadow the fact that Dubai is churning out incredible talent: artists, poets, photographers and multidisciplinary creatives in general. The fact that the city is so new, fast-paced and transient makes it a hotbed for ideas – people come and go, and everything changes so drastically every year that the exchanges map a hugely complicated net that can be very inspiring. I really think this is the kind of climate that fosters an out-of-the-box mindset in those who grow up here. What challenges have you faced since entering the creative industry? A constant struggle which I think every person working creatively perpetually battles with is art versus commerce. The question of, "Should I take up this pro-bono collaborative project that I am so passionate about, or sink into despair with this other commercial project that actually pays me but is sucking my soul dry?" And how do I value the intangibles in my work and translate those into words and metrics so I can get those dollar bills? It’s basic, but it’s everyone’s conundrum, and the only way to really make it is to strike a balance, which is definitely much easier said than done. Linked to it all of course, is the overarching question of how much an artwork is really worth. We haven’t figured that out yet.
When it comes to my work, I feel I’ve got a lot of room to grow in learning to tangibly execute what is only a whirlwind of vague, abstract concepts in my mind. That may well be my forever project. It’s a total mess in there. That’s why I write, even though the writing is always disconnected from any individual project. It’s for my sanity – if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to concretise anything. It can also be challenging to find common ground with the creative processes of others when working together. This is definitely a universal issue. I prefer spontaneity, having fun with the people I work with and letting things fall where they go. I am an extreme human and if I attempt to reign myself in with an OCD step-by-step, I will lose all inspiration. Some may call it winging it, but I call it fostering a good environment for creativity to come into full swing. You really show what stuff you’re made of when you realise something isn’t working out and you need to improvise like you’ve never improvised before to make it happen. It’s not an exact science, but more often than not, it actually works out. How do you stay original, but relevant? I have a fundamental anti-crowd vein instilled in me by my mother. I don’t think I’ve ever shed that rebellious instinct, it’s just who I am. It’s not always a good thing, but I think I’m managing it better as I grow older. One thing is certain though – if too many people jump onto something, be it an idea or anything else, then I’m ready to jump off and find something else. It’s important for me to keep my own perspective, my own mind and my principles. They are the backbone of my identity, and even though I will evolve, because that’s what life is all about, I should know who I am and where I stand. That young adult stint where I lost myself is a constant reminder to me how terrible life can be when you allow yourself to be a reed in the wind, bending to whichever way the wind blows.
With regards to relevance, I think it only stems from being aware of the kind of world I live in, to notice what’s happening and what it could mean for the future. The moment you stick to copying, you can pretend but you’re not really anything. I have a passion for semiotics and consumer culture theory, how we derive meaning from the world around us, and I try to observe underlying ideologies within mass trends occurring simultaneously in society. It sounds super dorky I know, but I really believe that’s where I manage to stay relevant: it’s all in being aware of your surroundings and what’s going on in the world. Or attempting to at least, because in the end, what does any one person truly know?