Langston Alimayu says connection is all that matters.
INTRODUCTION WRITTEN BY BRI STOKES, Interview by LilIANA Epps
Photography by Amber Salik
Painter, musician, curator and all-around creative Langston Alimayu is chiefly concerned with honesty—in creativity, in community building, and within the art world as a whole.
A self-taught native of Los Angeles, Langston pours that very energy of jovial, whimsical originality into every piece of work they bring to life. As of late, this work has primarily existed in the form of sweeping, multi-colored murals composed of interweaving patterns, lines and contours. The art invites “a slow look,” an opportunity to find something simultaneously eternal and ever-shifting within its shapes and silhouettes.
Langston’s penchant for joyous authenticity was on full display during their conversation with staff artist Liliana Epps at the artist’s home in Virgil Village. The two discussed the nature of creative energy, the magic of abstract art, and the necessity of community.
This conversation has been edited and shortened for clarity.
Lily Epps: Langston, how would you describe your art practice?
Langston Alimayu: I'm sporadic. When I first started painting, life was full and free. I had the time and bandwidth to fully devote myself to my practice. Now, it's whenever I have the time and imagination and freedom to do so. I’m making mostly paintings right now. Very large, intricate, squiggly lines. It's like a shroom trip. I did shrooms a few nights ago, and I went into the forest. I was staring out into this little plane of greenery. It's one thing, but it's also different. The more you look at it, the more it changes, and the more you interpret it in a variety of ways. I think that's what I mostly try to make—something that's good for a slow look.
Lily Epps: So you can sit there for a really long time and find things to look at?
Langston Alimayu: Essentially. I feel like the mind makes up shit. We're a storytelling breed. So when you're looking at something that's so abstract, you will unconsciously start to make up what it is and what you're looking at. And I think when you look at anything long enough, it gets more and more intrapersonal.
Lily Epps: When did you know you wanted to be an artist? What's your background and upbringing?
Langston Alimayu: I always knew I wanted to make shit. It’s all I really had. My mom was an actor. My dad was a writer. So there was creative stuff happening.
I think I'm approaching the cusp of what I want to do in this current art form of the abstract and the slowness… I feel like the world is getting more and more technologically like, ‘Fuck you,’ and I feel like people need to slow down.
"Space is everything; emotionally or spiritually or physically"
〰️
"Space is everything; emotionally or spiritually or physically" 〰️
Lily Epps: So as a little kid being within art was just your home life?
Langston Alimayu: Not fine art, but more so the creative energy. Art means nothing. The stock market means nothing. Government means nothing. We're all just fucking people doing people shit. Let's not make a big deal about stuff.
I didn't go to college. I didn't graduate high school. I feel like people have been pushed into a way of how things should be based on the media, their parents, their college and institutions. I feel like what I bring to the table is: “Stop it.” [Laughs]
Lily Epps: Do you mind telling me more about that?
Langston Alimayu: I would travel a long-ass time to get to school. I was always late to first period, so my teacher eventually failed me. Then I spent a year in Santa Cruz, hanging out. I said, ‘I'm gonna just read fucking books.’ I think my ‘college’ would be Santa Cruz for a year, and then four years running the art collective, L.A. Valley Art. Those are the only things that I use today in my life.
Lily Epps: It took you three weeks to do a mural for The Robinson Space. Have you ever done a mural before?
“People need to slow down.”
Langston Alimayu: My work has been getting exponentially larger for the last couple years. So that was the biggest I've done so far. I’m at a crossroads right now with my art, where part of me wants to go fucking bigger than the mural, but another part of me wants to go… smaller. When you're in there fucking making these super small lines, you're transported to another realm. And then it’s just figuring out the chaos. I think the first half it's just me being like, ‘Ah, fuck, anxiety. Oh, fuck, emotions. Oh, fuck, all these things.’ They have to get out, and then I get out, and then I have to organize it.
"That's what I mostly try to make—something that's good for a slow look."
〰️
"That's what I mostly try to make—something that's good for a slow look." 〰️
Lily Epps: I think it’s super special that you created and ran a collective. What are your thoughts on collectives and why they're important?
Langston Alimayu: I feel like space is everything; emotionally or spiritually or physically, having space is the most important thing in life. Collectives bring space to people. You understand more about yourself when you're in tune with people who are like-minded. And whether you're just making events or hanging out, I think being around other artistic people feeds the spirit.
The world is fucking weird and mostly fake; genuine, wholesome connection is the only thing that really matters. I hold that dearly to me—authenticity, wholesomeness, genuine shit. Like, don't fucking be a fake, baby! Be a real person, you know?