Get to know Janet Asante Sullivan, a Ghanaian-born artist based in Virginia whose work explores themes of womanhood, solitude, and cultural memory. Using oil, she paints the interior lives of people. Her paintings aim to capture what it feels like to live right now. In an era where many long for the simplicity of the past, she finds meaning in bearing witness to the present—the nuance, the contradictions, the history we are making in real time. Janet’s work insists on the value of now, and what it reveals about who we are becoming.
Join us Saturday June 28 from 5:30 - 8:30 PM at Phosphene for an artist reception in celebration of the her recent work. Refreshments and light hor’derves will be provided. RSVPs appreciated; reply by dm or text 540.212.9447.
What does this season of life look like for you?
This season of life is a beautiful balance of ease and activation. It’s easeful because I’m settled in my career and nearing the end of daily parenting, with my youngest son preparing to leave the nest. My time is more my own now than it’s ever been. And it’s also a season of activation—I’m moving through my bucket list, tending to long-held desires, and uncovering new ones along the way. I feel alive, energized, and more fully myself than ever before.
Tell us a little about your creative process and background.
As with many people, my relationship to my creative process is deeply tied to my origin story. I was born in Ghana, West Africa, and immigrated to the United States with my parents in the mid-1980s. I was eight years old when we arrived. My childhood in Ghana was idyllic, surrounded by many loving hands: my great-grandmother, grandmother, aunts, uncles, and of course, my parents. From an early age, I was constantly affirmed my parents, told I was smart, capable, and strong-willed. Those words became a compass, guiding me through life and shaping a fulfilling career in human resources and leadership development. I climbed the corporate ladder and eventually launched my own leadership consulting practice.
Then last January, I dabbled in a paint-by-numbers kit and was surprised by how much I enjoyed it. That led me to seek out painting lessons at my local art center studio. I signed up and I’ve shown up to class almost every week since. When I started, my art teacher told me that portraits were notoriously difficult and not the best place to begin. But as I mentioned, I was raised with an outsized can-do spirit, so I started with portraits anyway. It’s still where my creative interest lies. Portraits and figures allow me to explore emotion, presence, and the inner life of my subjects. I’m fascinated by people, especially how they are by themselves in solitude and contemplation.
A key part of my process is painting in series. I tend to get obsessed with a theme and dive all the way in, creating several iterations. I’m a natural investigator—a bit of a sleuth—so working in series gives me space to explore multiple ways of presenting a single idea. One of my current series, Offerings, centers on the cultural phenomenon of “trad wives” in today’s social media slop. I went down a rabbit hole of historical research and read numerous essays unpacking its political, social, and cultural implications. Out of that exploration, I created three paintings as a way to interpret and respond to this moment in time.
Lately, I’ve been working with live models for my figure work, which has been deeply rewarding. I paint in oils and stick to a consistent palette to support my learning. I’m especially drawn to moody, dark tones. I love a moody, deep green.
I paint regularly, both during weekly art classes and at my home studio throughout the week. I prefer painting in the mornings, especially on days when my work schedule is light. I start my day with a walk, a cup of tea and flip through my collection of art books or read some poetry. I always do this before painting or starting my work day. I need to see some beauty, a bit of inspiration before I get lost in the day.
Music is an essential part of my process, I’m most inspired by moody, melancholic sounds. Lately, I’ve been listening to Bon Iver’s Sable Fable, Allison Russell’s Outside Child, and my own playlist called Mellow Painting Day, which features artists like Norah Jones, Otis Redding, Dido, and Nina Simone. When I am not in a moody music mood, I play my Ghanian Highlife, Reggae or Afrobeats playlist.
Could you share with us any specific works of art, literature, music, etc that have been inspiring you recently? (Or/Also - any memories, travels, movements, playlists). Specifically, what has inspired the collection of art you are presenting on June 28th at Phosphene?
In the last four years, I’ve started a tradition of taking a month-long solo trip every August. I travel to a place I’ve never been before and intentionally settle in the least touristy part of town, immersing myself in the local area. During this time, I don’t make any long-term plans, not even for lodging. I literally take it two days at a time, booking accommodations and experiences based on my daily energy and mood.
Because I’m alone, I get to shed the weight of routines, do all the nerdy things I love without wondering if a travel companion is also enjoying themselves. I have no other energy or whims to account for but my own. I eat alone, people watch alone on benches, sketch in cafés, take random classes—like cooking classes—on my own. This extended solitude always brings me clarity. I return home with a stronger sense of who I am, what I want to pursue and focus on for the remainder of the year. Before I started painting, a big part of these solo trips included seeking art, getting lost in museums and old architecture. Now that I am painting, I am even more attuned to beauty and art when I travel.
I am always inspired by film, photographs and literature. I’m an avid reader, and for the past two years, I’ve been deeply inspired by the French writer Simone de Beauvoir. Her groundbreaking work The Second Sex explores the social construction of womanhood, and her novel The Woman Destroyed is one of my favorite portrayals of the inner lives of women. Her characters often crave more from life, they appreciate the simplicity of a vintage vase of flowers on a table, wander the streets of Paris in thought, speak their mind, and are more interested in art, literature, and self-inquiry than in being beautiful. And they don’t mind being alone which is a theme in my art.
For over 20 years, Nina Simone has been a constant source of inspiration. Nina believed that artists have a responsibility to witness the world, call out injustice, and stand for truth. Her voice and songs carry a weight that feels both defiant and intimate. She walked her own path, and I’ve always admired her courage and commitment to saying what needed to be said. She was also often misunderstood and considered too much, too loud, too strong. I can relate to that at times. Nina was also adventurous in life. In the late 1960s and 70s, she traveled extensively, spending time in Liberia, Ghana, and other parts of Africa before eventually settling in France. She wasn’t afraid to seek out greener pastures or walk away from places that no longer served her.
Can you describe your workspace? Where is it and what is in it? How has your workspace evolved alongside your work?
I call my space an office/studio interchangeably. It’s like a mullet hair cut, business in the front and party in the back, lol. One half is set up for Zoom calls for corporate clients, while the other side is filled with art, paint tubes, my easel, a pinned-up color wheel, and brushes. There's also a cozy reading corner next to an overflowing bookshelf where I sit in the mornings reading poetry or my latest novel. The space allows me to flow easily between roles. I can lead a Zoom meeting or corporate training session, then take just a few steps to my easel to paint. On especially tiring workdays, I’ll paint for an hour before heading upstairs to reconnect with my family. It helps me transition.
Is there something you tend to collect? What are some of your favorite objects in your home?)
Each year, I tend to hyperfixate on something new to collect for my home. Last year, it was all about candle holders, vintage, modern, thrifted, I couldn’t get enough. I also collect vintage flower vases, and it’s become a whole ritual each week deciding which vase will hold that week’s flowers. I’m always on the hunt for vintage lighting, too. One of my most treasured finds is a 1950s globe light I thrifted a few years ago. Another favorite object in my home is a heavy, all-metal bust of a woman’s figure. It sits on a pedestal in my dining room which gives the room a bit of a modern museum vibe I like. And then there are the rocks and shells. I’ve been collecting them for over 30 years. Many were picked out by my children during beach walks in summers past, and I always bring home at least one rock or shell from the places I travel. My favorite, though, is a rock my now 17-year-old son brought home during a third-grade field trip. He secretly pocketed it during a farm tour because he knew I’d love it. It now sits on my coffee table.
What does an ideal day of rest and recharging for you include? What are your favorite rituals for self-care?
I have a very consistent self-care and recharge ritual. I do one of two things. Most Fridays begin with a Pilates or yoga session. Then I stop by a local café for a pastry and tea, followed by a stroll through my favorite vintage shops downtown. I always make a stop at Phosphene to browse their mix of vintage and new collections—and to chat with Rachel, of course. From there, I head to my beloved used bookstore to see what new books they’ve found. I wrap it up with lunch at Foodie, a women-owned restaurant where I sit at the bar to read and eat. The bartenders know my go-to orders and are always up for a chat. Then I head home, feeling grounded. What I love most about this ritual is that I’ve become a regular in many of these spots—it feels less like visiting friends who happen to own businesses.
On other Fridays, I drive to D.C. and spend the day at the National Gallery of Art, taking in new exhibits and revisiting old favorites. Afterward, I sit on a bench near the museum and sketch for a while. I usually get lunch at my favorite Mexican spot, Oyamel, and make time to stop by GoodWood DC, a vintage shop I love, before squeezing in a Trader Joe’s run.