“That feels really special, when we get more time together; in-person time,” Rochlin said. 

I spoke to Rochlin and Guidi together over Zoom; often, one would answer a question while the other nodded; they regularly finished each other’s thoughts and sentences. They wove in and out of topics seamlessly, like kin.

Rochlin and Guidi met almost 30 years ago, when they were pursuing their master of fine arts degrees in painting at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago (SAIC). In the early 2000s, both decided, independently, to relocate to Los Angeles, where the high art scene was burgeoning. They saw each other again at an open studio at a mutual friend’s apartment, and then a few weeks later ran into each other at a Blick Art Supply in West Hollywood. A conversation sparked.

“I don’t know what happened, but we ended up talking for an hour or something, in the aisle. That’s when I would say we really first bonded,” Rochlin said.

Individually, Guidi and Rochlin are entering pivotal moments in their careers. Guidi has had major shows every year for the past decade—sometimes multiple times per year. Her most recent exhibition was Rituals at Gagosian in New York City. Of that work, critic Mark Westall wrote, “These carefully crafted compositions are not mere representations; they imagine elevated terrains inspired by the artist’s deep connection to nature and her personal and artistic rituals.”

Nature and ritual come up a lot in critical reception of Guidi’s work. Her paintings and sculptures are dynamic and meticulous, evoking the grandest elements of the natural world. She makes them using a time-intensive technique, beginning with a layer of sand mixed with acrylic, which she indents while still wet using a wooden dowel. She adds color and texture, carefully constructing visions of mountains, mandalas, and snakes.

Rochlin, on the other hand, is best known for her carved ceramics works—a discipline she stumbled into when she was working as an art teacher at an all-girls Catholic high school. The school received a grant for a ceramics program and asked if Rochlin wanted to helm it; she dove in. She started using clay in her own work in 2008. Since then, she’s shown work with the LA gallery The Pit, had a solo exhibition in Paris, one at Hauser & Wirth in New York, and several other solo or two-person shows around the globe. A recent feature in W Magazine described Rochlin’s “larger-than-life ceramics” as “vessels for both introspection and experimentation.”

One of the pieces exhibited in the Hauser & Wirth show, Honey Pot, included Guidi. Rochlin, who has made other collaborative ceramic works, sculpted a huge vessel—many of her pots are enormous, and feel organic rather than symmetrical, emotional in their individuality—and asked 22 women artists to carve their own interpretation of a vagina. She set up the pot in the back of her Toyota SUV, and solicited the drawings over time. One of the contributions is Guidi’s.

A lot of the drawings on Honey Pot came from a party at Guidi’s house. Guidi invited a bevy of LA-based artists, and Rochlin brought the pot. 

“It’s an example of how we both influenced a work, and it was really exciting; Jen gathering all these truly wonderful people,” said Rochlin.

Rochlin also turned to Guidi as a fellow parent navigating the minefield of being a working artist with children. In a coincidence, both Rochlin and Guidi have twins—Guidi’s are a year and a half older. Both artists said that the transition to motherhood was intense.

“When I became a mother, it helped me become more decisive,” said Guidi. “You don’t have the luxury of just staying in your thoughts all day. You have to take care of other humans.” Guidi cited the birth of her twin girls as the beginning of her regimented, nine-to-five studio practice, which she maintains to this day.

Rochlin uses her children as influences, and images of them appear in her works, perched in a tree or laughing, carved into a pot.

Guidi and Rochlin also share a history of studying under veteran artists at SAIC—a time for which both are grateful. 

Rochlin, who came to SAIC without much formal painting education, studied with faculty members who took students around the Art Institute, providing art historical context for their classes. 

“It was just an incredible time of discovery and freedom. Having access to the Art Institute was just insane. I’m always craving that proximity and access that the museum allowed me,” Rochlin said.

Guidi came to the program from Boston University, where she’d studied as a formal figurative painter. When she arrived at SAIC she knew she didn’t want to paint from life anymore, but she wasn’t sure how or what she was going to paint. Working with advisors like former faculty member Jim Nutt (BFA 1967, HON 2016) and Crown Family Professor in Painting and Drawing Michelle Grabner, Guidi slowly began exploring new ways of making images.

“When I think back on the paintings I was making, it feels awkward and kind of embarrassing. But I think that’s a great place to do that—in grad school, where you’re exploring and trying to figure out who you are as an artist,” said Guidi.

These days, Guidi and Rochlin continue the kinds of conversations they started individually at SAIC—around what makes a work of art work; about form, color, composition, light, and shadow. Though each artist has a unique oeuvre, both make work that’s evocative and feels deeply rooted in joy, pleasure, and nature. And they’re both fans of each other.

“I get so excited when I come into the studio and see that Jen’s made a new iteration on her forms, whether it’s subtle or not,” said Rochlin. “I love the positivity in her work. And the reflection, the meditative process.”

“We’ve been watching each other grow for the past 20 years,” said Guidi. “We really, deeply know each other’s work.”

When we spoke, both artists shared exciting things they had in the works—an exhibition at Sorry We're Closed in Brussels this fall for Rochlin, and a solo show in April with Massimo De Carlo in Milan for Guidi. Just one day after our conversation, however, the most destructive wildfires in the city’s history ravaged Los Angeles. The tight-knit artists’ community that rooted Guidi and Rochlin was suddenly forced to come together in new and unimaginable ways. 

“Different artists and art groups sprung right into action and started grants that artists affected by the fires could apply for,” Rochlin shared. Her neighborhood was impacted, and she’s been offered access to different ceramics studios across the city so she can continue making. “Everyone really is stepping up for each other.”

Though art is often so lonely, Guidi and Rochlin have found not only each other, but a whole network of Los Angeles artists who care deeply about one another, and the work they’re making. Though Guidi and Rochlin work individually on separate ambitious projects, they continue to find each other across all divides and connect. The context of their friendship blossoms around the edges of their compositions.

“When I see her work, it kind of sings,” said Rochlin. “I feel like it sings.” ■