This week, The Argus sat down with Lena Weiman ’25, an art studio and religion double major. Weiman discussed their upcoming exhibition in the Zilkha Gallery, the apprentice phase of life, and the importance of leading with love.

The Argus: Why do you think you were nominated to be a WesCeleb?

Lena Weiman: Oh God, that’s a really good question. I’m just involved in a lot of things. I’ve done art stuff, theater stuff, film stuff, [and] music stuff. I take classes. And I’m loud, which I think makes you stand out. 

A: Have you always been loud?

LW: Definitely. I just have no volume control. And also I did theater as a middle schooler, and I learned how to project healthfully. Now, nothing can stop me. I will never lose my voice. I’m an unstoppable force. 

A: You mentioned art, and I know your thesis is going up next week. Can you tell us about that?

LW: Oh my gosh, I’m so excited. I’m also so, so nervous. I’m technically a printmaking concentration, but it’s mostly sculptures. I don’t know why. It just kind of happened, and they’re all human-scale or slightly larger, semi-anthropomorphic beings, which is what my advisor and I have chosen to call them, and so they’re, like, funny. I take it so seriously, and also don’t take it seriously at all, because I think it’s important to have a sense of humor in all of life, especially in academic art spaces. I feel like it’s so easy to be very serious about it—that is the default. I think it’s great to care, but it’s also important to take a step back and be like, this is just a fun thing that I’m doing. And also it’s like, maybe the most important thing I’ve ever done—those both have to live together.

A: How did you settle on semi-anthropomorphic, super-sized beings?

LW: My advisor, [Assistant Professor of Art] Tammy Nguyen, is the print-making professor. And she has a really loose approach, very intuitive. She was like, “You like drama, and you like scale and impact. You have to start big.” So the thing that I landed on was beings. It needs to be big and it needs to have a personality, and I haven’t diverted from that since then. Everything you make is a self-portrait. And I do think there is an element of myself in all of them.

A: What’s the element?

LW: Well, you’ll have to come [to the exhibition]. I think it depends on the piece. They all kind of have distinct personalities and are very materially focused. I’m drawn to texture and the unexpected combinations of things.

A: So you’re materialistic?

LW: [Laughs] I guess so. If you want to put a label on it.

A: Did you know you wanted to be a studio art major when you came to the University?

LW: I knew art was the thing that I wanted to focus on, and then I was like, “Oh, I need another major that’s more serious and practical,” and I chose religion, which is equally as hypothetically impractical. But I love the religion department. 

A: Looking forward, and this is a dangerous question to ask a senior, but as you consider your hypothetically impractical options, what are your dreams and goals? 

LW: That’s a great and awful question. Hopefully something creative. Right now, I would love to get a job. That would be exciting. There was an artist who visited and talked to our senior seminar class, and was like, “When you get out of college, think of everything as an apprentice phase.” So I’m thinking of the next phase of my life as an apprentice phase. I’m trying to learn as much as I can. I’m not done learning. I just think an academic institution is no longer the place where I am meant to be learning. Don’t tell my professors this, but I’ve learned equally as much from the students as I have from the classes here.

A: Thinking back to freshman year, in what ways do you feel you’ve grown?

LW: My God, I feel, like, so immensely. Freshman year was such a magical experience. I think that’s probably the time that I made the most mistakes in my life [and grew] the most. And so much of it is because college condenses everything into one kernel. It’s your work, it’s your play, it’s your living space, it’s your eating [space]. Everything is so packed together, and you’re forced to contend with all of the things at once in a way that you never have, and you kind of never will again. And I have loved just figuring it out. I’m big into community—I think that’s maybe the most important thing in the world.

A: Speaking of community, you’re in Disorientation, right? Do you want to discuss that?

LW: I’ve been much less involved this year, but I really, really appreciated Disorientation my sophomore year when I joined. The main focus is a magazine that comes out once a year [in the fall], as a way to introduce people to Wesleyan—to show the good and the bad and to give as much of a holistic view of the institution a freshman is stepping into. [We discuss] institutional critique, but also community as a core pillar, being so aware that you can appreciate a community and also critique it. You have to lead with love, even when you’re critiquing—you lead with love.

A: I was talking to someone recently who compared leading with logic versus leading with kindness.

LW: That’s so interesting. There’s always going to be emotion involved—it might just be buried under systems and frameworks. I think that’s why art has always stuck out to me, because it follows its own logic, and it’s mostly a logic of emotion—sometimes it’s the only thing that feels real. I’ve been thinking a lot about how art can be really solitary. A lot of life can be really solitary. A lot of academia can be really solitary. And it’s so easy to just hole up and study, but it’s been so important to find spaces that rely on collaboration, making a larger whole. That’s why I love theater. That’s why I love being a print[making concentration] and working in the print shop. The print shop is inherently collaborative. It’s invaluable, and I love it. I’m going to miss it.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Thomas Lyons can be reached at tlyons@wesleyan.edu.