Brendan Fernandes (he/they) is one busy individual.
The third Veteran Art Triennial and Summit—titled Resisting the Long War: A Revolution of Values—runs Sept. 12, 2026 through different times next year, starting at the Elmhurst Art Museum before moving to other spaces such as the Hyde Park Art Museum, the Chicago Cultural Center and Walls Turned Sideways. (The summit will be Nov. 5-8.)
One of the artists involved is Brittney Chantele Aston (they/them), a U.S. Army veteran. They are also a nonbinary, lesbian, disabled multidisciplinary artist working across film, painting, ceramics, music and performance. In a very frank discussion, Aston (who currently resides in Pittsburgh) talked about everything from being queer to using art to confront trauma.
Note: This conversation was edited for clarity and length. Also, it should be noted that it discusses sexual assault.
Windy City Times: You’re one of the most multifaceted people I’ve talked with in quite a while. In addition to all of your art, you’re a musician. You released a song called “U-Haul?”
Brittney Chantele Aston: I just released it as a single, and I have released an album. “U-Haul” was fully written by me and I’m really, really proud of it. It’s on all music streaming platforms, as of right now, although I try to push people toward Bandcamp as much as possible.
WCT: When I saw that you’re a “veteran artist,” I realized that it could be read in two ways. [Aston smiles.] One of those meanings involves being an experienced artist. When did you first know that you wanted to be an artist?
BCA: This is always a tough question for me because I feel like ever since I was a kid, I knew that I was going to do something art-related—I just didn’t know what. I would be watching [the Nickelodeon show] All That in my parents’ bed at night and when TLC did the theme song, I would get up with a fake microphone and pretend like the edge of the bed was a stage.
I had this yearning for being an artist in some facet, but I didn’t really start to take it seriously and start to put things out into the world until 2016. That was when I got serious about recording music with a producer and everything like that.
WCT: And regarding the other possible meaning of “veteran artist,” I want to thank you for your service. [BCA: Oh, thank you, thank you.] But In some ways, the military seems like it would be the complete antithesis of being an artist—so why did you decide to enter the Army?
BCA: It’s a great question, and I think the answer is so layered for me.
I come from a military family. My dad and uncle were in the Army, and I have a cousin in the Air Force. Also, both of my twin brothers are in the military; one is in the Army and one is in the Air Force. I even have a somewhat distant cousin who’s in the Navy. And there are generations that have been there, too.
But while I didn’t necessarily feel a lot of familial pressure to join the military, I had just rose-colored glasses about the military and what it actually means to be in the military. In school, I was in Marine Corps JROTC, where I broke school records.
But the biggest reason why I joined was community. I really thought it was going to be this brotherhood/sisterhood that they promised—and I couldn’t find it. I never felt like I fully fit in anywhere. I felt like somewhat of a chameleon but I’m also biracial: My dad’s Black and my mom is white. So I didn’t feel like I necessarily fit in with white or Black kids.
I think the military is using that as a tactic, you know? They know that there are certain people especially in certain demographics who don’t have family, friends or community.
WCT: And I think everyone goes through those feelings of isolation and being able to fit in, for sure. As for the triennial, what are you contributing?
BCA: So I am showing a series of ceramic works and a video. Basically, [the latter is] a video documentation of an endurance performance that I did in my military uniform.
WCT: Can you talk about that a little bit more? That sounds really intriguing.
BCA: Yes. One night, I just had this idea of getting into my military uniform and doing push-ups on video until I can’t anymore. And, for me, that actually happens very quickly because I have fibromyalgia. I used to be very athletic; then, in 2016, I was hitting muscle failure quicker than ever while doing push-ups. I just had this full body soreness and they didn’t know what was happening with me. I ended up getting diagnosed with fibromyalgia; that was the reason why I got out of the military.
There are still aspects of the military that I miss, even though there aren’t many of them. It was also around the time of the diagnosis that I was sexually assaulted.
WCT: Oh, I am so sorry.
BCA: Thank you. I don’t want to get into it too much because I get onto a soapbox, but there are some doctors and researchers who believe that fibromyalgia is caused by a traumatic event. so, you know, It was really important for me to not only capture my body in this stage of vulnerability and transformation, but to also talk to people about this idea that we have to keep going. And that’s what this piece is called: “Keep Going.”
[For example,] you have a loved one dying; [they say,] “Well, hey, here are two days of leave, but come back.” You’ve got to keep going, you know? And these are things that I know that people outside of the military experience.
Besides the military-industrial complex, other industrial complexes and the patriarchy mirror misogyny, homophobia and other things. So I wanted to have this conversation because it’s something that I think a lot of people experience but we really don’t discuss.
Filming the video, I ended up crying and so many emotions came up for me that I didn’t even anticipate, like frustration and anger. It was a really tough piece to do. I don’t know if I would do it again.
WCT: And with the PTSD that you’re dealing with from that horrific assault, I imagine that it also informs your art?
BCA: Very much so—and it is also what I’m trying to do to heal from that. But you know how psychedelics are a part of the conversation now? I think they’ve helped—but they’re not magic pills. You have to really process, sit with things, and have conversations with yourself and others. I still experience symptoms of PTSD, and I feel that my art speaks to that as well.
I also do other things. I’ve started a zine called Through the Wound, which is also the title of my ceramic work. [The zine is] about veterans healing with psychedelics. The idea is that there is no healing unless you literally go through the wound, sit with the pain and really have a conversation with it.
WCT: I think you’re a very inspirational person—but who do you look to for inspiration?
BCA: I feel like I have these pockets of people who inspire me across media, like there’s a musical artist who really inspired me. Um, But I think anyone who I come across can inspire me—even a stranger who I meet at a networking event who tells me about facing their wounds. I may not even remember their names, but I remember what they told me.
We all go through trials and tribulations as well as trauma. When you can just accept that as truth, I think that it’s so much easier to give not only yourself grace, but to give it to others as well.
WCT: With you representing so many intersectionalities, I have to ask what representation means to you.
BCA: It means being in a space where you are fully seen—and hurt without judgment. That’s very important. We have to be without judgment involving ourselves and others. Even with my ceramic pieces, for example, sometimes people will stop looking at them and start looking at the war within them. But I was never deployed; my physical, mental and emotional abuse happened in my training environments. That’s really hard for some people to sit with. There are also preconceived notions of who a veteran is. Some people believe that veterans are only old white men.
WCT: Is there anything you want to add about your art or yourself?
BCA: I just really want to emphasize that healing—regardless if you’re a veteran or someone else—doesn’t look one way. I think that’s the big message for me within this triennial.