NEWW: Someone told you that your Instagram was confusing because people could not tell which projects were personal and which belonged to clients. Why do you think they need to know that?
Venesa Torres: For me, it is just my brand. The walls, the thickness of the walls, the architecture, the fact that the reveal is six inches—there is so much math behind everything I do.
There is also a part of art that is mystery. I do not want people to know where I live. I have not shared my home yet. I will in time, but I am not there emotionally. The connection is not finished. I am still having my relationship with my home and with the texture, and I am not ready to share that.
NEWW: It feels like that mystery makes the work a slower build. Do you see it that way?
Venesa: Yes. Not everything is for everyone. But the people who really appreciate it are also the people you want.
That comes into personal relationships as well. You can say, “I have all these friends,” but you do not. You keep the ones who truly understand you as you are. That is how I am about my work.
I want you, five years from now, to continue to love the space. Maybe in five years you will not call me because you still love it, but that is the relationship I want to create between you and your space, no matter where it is. That is how I view everything.
NEWW: That sounds like legacy.
Venesa: It comes down to the things you keep for a long time. You build a relationship with a piece. You love that piece, versus something cheap that you can buy for five dollars.
The bags I use for grocery shopping, I have had for seven years. A woman once asked me where I got them. I told her they were French and that people make knockoffs, but I would buy the original. They were eight dollars. She said, “Oh, you’re one of those.” I said, “Yes, I am.” I do not like knockoffs. If I cannot afford it right now, I will save money until I can.
I have been like that since I was little. If I do not like what exists, I will design something and have someone make it. That is the way my head works, from grocery bags to a table.
NEWW: What makes that way of working difficult?
Venesa: The value, when you attach dollar signs to it, grows extremely slowly. As an artist, it gets frustrating. You see everybody doing fast, fast, fast and using a hundred plants in their spaces. They look beautiful, but it is because you did it so quickly.
If you add five plants in here, it is going to look magical. It is going to look like an oasis. But try doing it without all the fluff. Try making a woman look beautiful without all the makeup. It is going to be a lot harder. That is what I do.
It is difficult to sell, and it is difficult to make money. You see everybody else booming, and you are here saying, “I am not giving up. I am not going to sell out.” That is where I am.
NEWW: Patience does not sound easy for you.
Venesa: I am not a patient person.
I am fortunate to have a husband who is very supportive and makes it possible for me to do these kinds of things. And I worked my ass off for many, many years. I saved every nickel I had. I played the game, and I did the research for over twelve years before I went off on my own.
I was too scared before. Then I went out on my own with a three-month-old and said, “Okay, now this is the way I am going to do it. I am not going to play that game anymore.” But I did play the game. I worked for people. When they said jump, do this, go here, fly here—I did it.
NEWW: When you say you “played the game,” do you mean you made work you did not want to make?
Venesa: Work that was not my style, yes. I worked for somebody. I was getting paid. I had graduated.
I was not the kid who said, “I am going to graduate and do this on my own.” No. Saving and getting that foundation meant that later I could step out, create, build a brand, and be myself.
My biggest advice is: do that for a while. Especially when you are young. I was not from Dallas. I did not know anybody. I did not know the market. How was I going to get clients? I did that work first.
NEWW: What does the future look like for you?
Venesa: I would love to find people like you guys who truly believe in the work I do and hand me the key and say, “Here you go. Run with it.” That is the ultimate dream project.
When a client says, “Here are the keys,” walks away, and comes back later, it is refreshing. It is inspiring. They are not saying, “Can you do what I want?” They are saying, “Can you do what you think is the best thing? I trust your eye. I trust your heart.” There are not a lot of people who will do that.
I have been on my own for six years, and that is what I want as a designer.
NEWW: You also want to move further into furniture design?
Venesa: I want to experiment with making furniture out of clay and stone—building a piece that you can actually sit on.
I do not do well with making a cup. For me, I think big. I have started drawing table bases and chairs, sketching them and thinking through how the gaps have to be the same so the piece does not crack. Unless you play with it—until the clay is dirty and slimy and wet and in front of me—how do I find my signature? How can I bring what I do into a piece?
NEWW: Your work moves between architecture, interiors, furniture, and food. Do those feel like separate practices to you?
Venesa: Usually, with me, it is kitchen and food. There is a lot of architecture in the food art.
I think of bringing completely foreign objects together, which is how I describe myself. You make a furniture piece, put it into a space, bring in fishing wire and bread, and put a banana at the bottom. There is art. There is food. There is interaction. It makes someone come in and say, “What is going on here?”
Does it make sense? No. But it made you stop. That is what I want to create.
The furniture I want to make is not necessarily to sit in my house. It is more for food—to create that moment. There is no money in that. It is just me playing and creating. I am very fortunate that I can do that.