10 Questions with Allegra Bick-Maurischat

Al-Tiba9 Art Magazine ISSUE11 | Featured Artist

Born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, Allegra Bick-Maurischat received her BFA from the San Francisco Art Institute. Recent exhibitions include TAG Gallery in Los Angeles, Visionary Projects in New York, and the Irvine Center for the Arts in Southern California. Allegra has completed artist residencies at Greywood Arts in Killeagh, Ireland, and the DAC Gallery in Los Angeles, CA. Her creative work has been featured and commissioned for both TV and film including projects for NBC’s World of Dance, independent film The Singing Bones, and others. Allegra has also participated and assisted on several large-scale public art installations, including a mural at the Coachella music festival in Indio, CA. Her work and practice has been highlighted on the podcast Arts to Hearts Project, Create! Magazine, Voyage L.A magazine and Huffpost Arts, among others. Allegra currently lives and works in Los Angeles, CA.

allegrajbickmaurischat.com | @allegrajanebm

ARTIST STATEMENT

Allegra is fascinated by America’s historical amnesia, its role in shaping Western ideologies, and its influence on cultural memory and the concept of “nationhood.” Her work investigates traditional understandings of American narrative, conflict, and the West’s reliance on visual documentation to translate and relay history. Her interdisciplinary practice is grounded in historical research and explores many forms of making, including oil painting, silverpoint drawing, cyanotype and more. She uses paper and textile both as tools and conceptual lynchpins — often mining things like old photographs, newspaper, quilts, or stitching samplers for content. Allegra enjoys both the physicality and fragility of these objects, as they contain stories that still resonate as time passes, but risk losing nuance as context fades from collective memory and experience.

Using realism, trompe l'oeil, cutting, weaving, and other physical manipulations, she playfully engages her subjects as actual objects in an increasingly digital world. These manipulations ask questions more than provide answers — both de-historicizing and re-historizing. Allegra's work urges viewers to look carefully and critically at what emerges within the act of looking, gently teasing apart literal and metaphorical narrative threads. 

INTERVIEW

First off, let's introduce yourself to our readers. Who is Allegra Bick-Maurischat in three words? 

Work. In. Progress. 

How did you first get interested in art? And when did you realize you wanted to be an artist? 

Well, I think some part of me has always been a diligent maker of things and a pretty dedicated observer. I know for certain I have always, always been most whole and most at peace when I have a brush or a pencil in my hand; my mom will tell you that has been true since I was as young as three years old. I was constantly making stuff as a kid - through stories, drawings, plays, poems, whatever - I grew up in a family that really supported and encouraged that sort of creativity. But anyway, I should also say that I don't recall ever having this moment of "decision" where I was like, "I am going to be an artist!". I don't like putting labels on things, and it definitely took me a really long time to be able to confidently self-identify as an Artist with a capital "A." I guess because there is so much stigma around the term, or because I didn't want to be put into that category and written off, you know? As you know, if I'm an artist, then I can't also be other things or have other ambitions or accomplishments to my name. 
So to answer the original question: I've known for as long as I can recall that I had to create things and also that I would build a life that allowed me to do that. It was never really a question. 

What is your background? And how did it help you become the artist you are today?  

Well, as I mentioned, I grew up in a very supportive and creative family. A love of art and culture was really fostered in me and my sisters from a young age - whether it was going to see local theatre performances with my grandmother or listening to my dad's old records, or reading together as a family every night. I also want to give a shoutout to the lineage of artists that I come from on my paternal side. My dad, for one, is a songwriter and musician, and as kids, my sisters and I were exposed to a truly eclectic array of music. I'm talking like The Beatles to traditional Irish folk, Beethoven to Southern Zydeco, and The Clash — you get the gist. My grandmother, great-grandmother and great uncle, and others from that side of the family are also highly creative, so that has to be the part where I get the impulse, I'm assuming! 
I really became involved in the arts seriously in high school. I had a phenomenal teacher who I think saw a little something in me and gave me what I needed in terms of both thinking conceptually and also a really strong art historical foundation from which to pull. I spent some time in New York City and San Francisco in my early and mid-twenties in a few different undergraduate studio art programs, but had a hard time finding the right fit. 
I want to be very transparent and open about that, actually, because it's only recently that I think I've unearthed some of the factors contributing to that feeling of unrootedness I was experiencing at the time. You know, art school won't teach you what to do once you graduate. There's no "how to be an artist" playbook. And at the time, I think I kept looking for someone to show me how the art world functions, not teach me how to mix up a skin tone or prep a canvas. I always thought there was something I was missing or that I wasn't part of the club because I didn't really have it all figured out in terms of how to make a career of this thing I loved, so I'd get discouraged and search for this at a different school or a different program. I had to work my way through school and took out some seriously large loans to finance my creative education, so I wasn't sure what path I was supposed to take with an art degree in order to make money at the end of the road, to be honest. 
As it turns out, no one knows how to do this whole "art career" thing! It takes a lot of determination, flexibility, sacrifice, and mental juggling to pay your bills while carving out time for your art practice. There's no set path to being an artist, which is the beautiful and challenging paradox of it all. It took me a while to figure that out, and I think I'll always be figuring it out! But if you ask me, showing up and doing the work - every day - is what makes you an artist; not your credentials, or who you know, or where you went to school, or whether not you have a day job. Are you committed to your practice? Great. You're an artist in my book! 
There's this really great quote from the curator Carter E. Foster that I love, which sums this sentiment up more beautifully than I ever could: "For me, "artists" are driven to do what they do no matter what… Sure, some are lucky enough that they can make a living doing it, while others work day jobs or supplement their practice by teaching or other means. But I don't think the distinction is important. It's the seriousness of purpose that I admire most." 
"Seriousness of purpose"...I just love that! 

Your work is deeply rooted in American culture, which you analyze and criticize. How did you get interested in such themes? And how do you incorporate them into your work, both visually and conceptually?  

Do I criticize American culture?! It's so funny to have my work summed up that way, actually. Maybe we never see our work the way others see it. I suppose I'm a little gun-shy when it comes to claiming to take a so-called "critical" stance on anything in my creative practice. I'm not sure I have enough authority or knowledge or experience to formally "critique" anything…
I've always been a deep, deep lover of history - I very nearly studied it in college - and aside from art class, it was always my favorite subject all through school. I have really early memories of flipping through this giant book of 20th Century LIFE magazine photographs my parents had. I think it was like a collection of the most impactful or famous photos of the century or something like that. And I just loved flipping through that and thinking about how those pictures had been seen by and affecting so many millions of people around the world. As an adult, and in my practice as an artist, I actually still think a lot about how photographs are used to document history and culture and the truth of part experience - and also how that's changing now with AI and filters and social media and so on, you know. 
Both conceptually and visually, the past, is kept alive for me through old books, photographs, tapestries, written and oral histories. I am just obsessed with the stamp of humanness on nondescript objects. These everyday things are records of lives and histories that linger - and open up to us, in a way, I think, if we look at them deeply. I'll never not be seduced by the old stamp on a long forgotten postcard, the torn price label on an antique teacup, or the worn spine of an old book cover - these things, to me, are just visually so beautiful and conceptually loaded. I've worked with old dime store novels, found vintage photos, clips from old TIME magazines - and right now, I am obsessed with Civil War-era quilts, so honestly, I think I'll always be mining old objects for content in my work. There's so much to think about and tease apart in the act of deep looking at these quiet, humble things - which is, ultimately, what I just really love doing and what I'd hope that people enjoy about my work. 

The United States is going through some rough times, especially internally and in relation to social and cultural issues. How does it influence your work?

Oh wow. Well, I could definitely ramble on about the state of the world, but I'll keep this answer short. I think about the injustices and rising tensions in our country - and in the world at large -  All…The…Time. I mean, for sure, it all influences my work. And, of course, I have personal opinions. But when I explore or touch on social or political issues in my work, I really try to do it in a way that encourages thoughtful engagement, not division. I don't see it as my job to push my personal agenda or my personal values in my work. If anything, I think an admirable and interesting piece of artwork creates bridges, asks questions, and can be accessible on multiple levels to all different types of people. I'm not interested in pictorializing my personal agenda to a select few who will either agree or disagree with me.
I'm mostly interested in exploring the gray areas when it comes to overtly political issues. I'm not claiming to have anything super important to say or posing any particularly new ideas. Rather, my teeny tiny corner of the world is involved with an unravelling of visual objects and historical narratives. Deconstruction - and reconstruction - is my way of deep looking and seeking meaning in a very complicated country with a very conflicted and nuanced history. Like right now, I'm thinking a lot about the current growing divisions I see in the U.S with a body of work based on quilts and patterns that were made during the Civil War. The laborious piecing together of the story through shape and color, the wear and tear of fabric and what it has seen, and the allusion to women's labor in support of the battles men fought. It's all stuff I'm thinking through as I paint, and it informs the visual decisions I make as I work through the series. 
I really just want to make things that are approachable - to anyone. I want to make things that are interesting to look at, that draw you in, encourage you to look closer, and then, hopefully, think a little bit. What's the story that emerges within someone's own experience of looking? It's maybe a tall order in the age of instant gratification, digitized everything, and endless scrolling, but I think analog is making a comeback. 

Do you think American culture still prevails in the world, and its influence reaches far beyond its borders? 

In my limited knowledge and experience, yeah, I think that America's cultural influence is still very pervasive and visible globally. I don't necessarily think that's a good thing, of course - I mean, any type of homogenized culture is boring and totally uninteresting, right? But what I am seeing right now, from the perspective of someone living within the U.S, is that we're experiencing a major expansion and investigation of our nationhood in terms of cultural production. Like, who's voices and stories are being heard or amplified now? Who hasn't been heard or seen previously? What type of creative work has been instrumental in shaping American music, or aesthetics, for example, but has been historically left out of the canon? We're addressing and wrangling with big questions like that right now - and not everyone is totally comfortable with it! I think it's really interesting, challenging, and important to be working within that context. So yes, I guess I'm hopeful that if the U.S continues to be a dominant influence on global culture, the growth, discourse, and self-reflection we're engaging in right now can serve as a positive model for others. 

In your opinion, what is the role of art and artists in addressing such themes? And how do you raise awareness with your work? 

I actually feel very wary of art and/or artists who claim to make "political art" or take on a role of "raising awareness" on a particular issue. There can be a tendency to intellectualize creativity, to overtly politicize art-making, which makes me sort of uncomfortable. To be frank, it's an unreasonable expectation of artists, I believe. To me, interesting work - and the artists I most admire - makes you think about what you're looking at and why without spoonfeeding you an opinion or an idea. 
I have collectors who exist on opposite ends of the political spectrum, and I think that could maybe speak a little as to what I'm trying to do (and not do!) It's not my objective to "raise awareness" about anything in particular. I'm not presenting or proposing any easy answers in my work because the world is complicated; I don't have the answers. Exploring gray areas is a much more interesting endeavor to me than punchlines presented in black and white. 

What other themes would you like to explore in the future? Is there anything new you got interested in recently?

I feel like my work will always have a bent towards history, nostalgia, and - whether it's on trend or not - be strongly oriented towards craft and fine detail. It's really just the sweet spot for me and has been for a good decade now. But I mean, who knows what further subject matter might seduce me in the future? My husband and I are thinking of starting a family in the next few years, and I think it would be terribly naive of me to assume motherhood won't have any influence or bearing on my future work. So it will be really interesting to see what happens with that, I guess. I have a few ideas I'm working through for my next body of work involving these really amazing stitching samplers from the early American Colonial period, but I don't want to say too much on that project yet. 
And gosh, in terms of what I'd like to explore material-wise, the list is endless. One thing I'm into right now is working with porcelain paper clay and underglaze pencil drawing, which is like working in ceramics, but you can achieve really fine detail with the clay because of the paper pulp content. I'm really enjoying the physicality of the clay and feel like it's still in a very experimental phase right now. It's actually quite funny, but I steered away from interdisciplinary work and material exploration when I was in art school because it felt too loose or too risky or like I didn't want it to be ALL about the material, you know? Because I rely on concepts in my work, yes, but I also really lean into crafts and want the labor of making to help carry the meaning. So if it was a material I couldn't control or didn't have a firm grasp on, I didn't really want to waste my time on it. That has changed, I guess. Maybe I'm older and wiser! 

Talking about the future, do you have any upcoming exhibitions or projects you particularly look forward to?

Honestly, I am just fully immersed in this current body of work right now and am enjoying the process of working through it. The end goal is a solo exhibition in 2023, but right now, it's just all about making the work. I think artists often go through seasons, you know? For me, I'm just in the making season, and it's delicious. I also just received a grant to help fund further research/travel as I continue this same body of work mentioned above! I'll hopefully be taking some time towards the end of this year to travel down to the Southern U.S to do some research and documentation on Civil War battlefields down there so I can keep working through this series of deconstructed landscapes and quilt paintings based on collected imagery. 

And lastly, what is your major goal for 2022?

Make, make, and make some more.