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When arriving at Marc Armitano Domingo’s hybrid loft studio in New York’s East Village, it doesn’t take long to realize he’s a true multi-hyphenate. There are musical instruments off to one side, a painting studio set up on a ledge, canvases on a mantle, and even metalworking materials lying around. “Performing music and firing porcelain are similar in that you get one shot and it’s done,” says Armitano Domingo. “You can’t go back and fix things.” Predominantly known for his whimsical yet polished ceramics sold at stores like John Derian and on his website, Armitano Domingo, he’s an artist with many strings to his bow. On the afternoon I visit, he describes working in copper for the first time, explains the backstory of his love for oil painting, and even picks up his custom salterio (a historic Italian dulcimer) and plays a tune from his newly formed Baroque ensemble.
Then, he brings out his latest series of work: a collection of wearable medallions, whose inspiration dates back to the 17th century. “I saw nun medallions for the first time in 2016 at the Denver Art Museum,” he says. “It was where I fell in love with Mexican art. I was familiar with Venezuelan colonial painting and the heavily gilded baroque art of Bolivia and Peru, but Mexican art has its own distinct flavor that varies more from artist to artist.” It turns out that the brooch-like objects served as a kind of early modern fashion accessory: adornments for the clergy to be worn in devotion to their favorite saint or to commemorate major life events. (Sometimes even to depict loved ones.) Each is hand-painted and must be sewn onto your garment with a simple stitch before wearing—as opposed to the pin fastenings of a brooch—making it more like a mini, wearable oil painting that can be cycled from garment to garment. “It’s so rare that we take the time to even do one simple stitch today,” he says. “I hope people are open to the idea.”
It felt like an obvious progression for Armitano Domingo, bringing together his love of history, fashion, and art. He remembers creating small stoneware pots at home as a child in Palo Alto, before quickly transitioning to music as a teenager. At 13, he started with baroque cello, then discovered the viola da gamba, a stringed instrument similar to a violin or viola. Throughout this time, he was always experimenting with fashion. “I once put together this Victorian beekeeper look; a tan blazer with a white button-up, denim shorts, a fox stole, and a straw hat,” he recalls. “I was known for my statement outfits.”
It was Armitano Domingo’s love of clothing that first brought him to New York to study fashion design at Parsons, before growing disillusioned and moving to Baltimore to study music at Peabody at Johns Hopkins. His journey into ceramics, on the other hand, began after taking a class during a summer holiday: at first, he was making more typical hand-thrown wabi-sabi pieces, but after he made his first porcelain plate, he quickly fell for its precision and polish. Predominantly self-taught, with mentorship from a fellow New York ceramicist, Stepanka Summer, he began to receive commissions and attract fans like Derian, who carries Armitano Domingo’s work at his shops in New York and Provincetown.
According to Armitano Domingo, moving between these different disciplines was natural. “Music was my gateway into history—it was my entry point,” he explains, noting it opened the door to the Baroque and Renaissance eras which have inspired so much of his work. His whimsical illustrations began as an adornment to his ceramics—rudimentary at first, but becoming more sophisticated and ornate as he progressed. It only makes sense, then, that his next step would be oil painting. “Oil is the most forgiving medium I’ve worked with,” he says, noting it allows him to keep revising the image infinitely. “I’m not sure why artists today consider it the most challenging medium.”
In all of his work, there’s an uncanny sense of something familiar, but delivered with a sly, knowing wink—by knowing his references inside out, Armitano Domingo is able to quietly subvert them. Instead of the typical meticulous lines and exactitudes of fine china, he brings a homemade, even child-like touch, using motifs like worms, beetles, and fruit. “Great art is often made with the culminated knowledge of multiple generations—that’s why I look to the past for inspiration,” he says. “I learn about different beauty ideals, conventions, and techniques even though they have long gone out of style. It’s all to have a better understanding of humanity.”
As for Armitano Domingo’s next steps? He’s hoping to find a residency for—or at least play publicly more often with—his newly formed six-piece baroque ensemble, Passiflora Harmonica. (He plays the salterio, gamba, or lirone alongside two violinists, a cellist, and a theorbo-guitarist-lutenist.) Looking further ahead to the fall, he’ll have his second show at Salon 21, a hybrid gallery and performance space in SoHo, and he’s planning to fold music into how he presents his paintings and ceramics. Will another medium come next? “I don’t think I’ll become an actor or dancer anytime soon,” he says, with a laugh. “But anything where I work with my hands is fair game.”