20. Alisa Ochoa & Andrea Tosten
Alisa Ochoa and Andrea Tosten discuss their past work, collaborating with their children, new projects mining their personal histories, reclaiming erased cultures/traditions/languages/identities, and how reading and research feed into their respective practices
Alisa Ochoa (AO): My husband came home one day and said he met a cool artist and her son at the library. Months later, I was chatting with Karen Weiner at the Reading Room about books (of course) and she brought up your name. Then, I saw your calligraphy work at Talley Dunn. Finally, just as I was relocating from Texas to California, as fate would have it— we met! Over the years I’ve followed your projects, listened to you on podcasts, and am constantly in awe of your creative trajectory and nimbleness. Thank you for joining me in conversation.
Andrea Tosten (AT): Thank you for having me join you in conversation. You are one person I was looking forward to hanging with on a more regular basis, then the shit hit the fan…I remember meeting your husband and son at the library while hanging with my youngest son there. I remember him telling me you work mainly in ceramics and that prompted me to tell him my husband also works in ceramics. I was in awe of your work and super excited to meet you in person at the “Time and Temperature” exhibition at El Centro in 2019. I really enjoyed being enchanted by your pieces in the show.
AO: Andrea, when is shit not hitting the fan?! I feel like our friendship was preordained. I’m glad you remembered that show. It was about color and feeling.
AT: Ha, ha, ha, right?! Perpetual shits making contact with infinity fans. I feel the same way about friendship. Yes…and your work really captured that (color and feeling)…I was so happy to be able to interact with them. The cone shaped piece comes to my mind… and was there a piece that made a rattling sound? Did you make some bananas that included a sound component relatively recently?
AO: Yes. The ceramic rattles all started in Texas. I loved having visitors interact with the ceramic sculptures in such a direct, intimate way. Touch was something that was limited or off-limits during the early parts of the pandemic. The bananas grew out of a need to stay sane and to keep a kindergartner busy at home. But they also function as ritual objects.
Alisa Ochoa, Banana Rattles, 2020, ceramic, underglaze, and glaze, each approximate dimensions: 3 x 3 x 8 inches, photo by Julian Calero
AT: I love that…how long have you been in California now?
AO: Long enough to consider 60 degrees chilly enough to throw on a down jacket! Almost three years.
AT: I definitely consider 60 degrees chilly…down is so cozy. I had to get one for trips to Iowa.
AO: What has kept you sane? Books, movies?
AT: I think books have kept me sane…I have been reading a lot of books about socialism and black liberation written between the 1960s and 1980s. I have also been reading a lot about voodoo and hoodoo. I am enjoying getting history lessons about a perspective that has been overlooked, demonized, hypersexualized, etc….that was mainly passed down through oral means and by women…and definitely movies and shows…I love HBO Max. What about you?
AO: As a self-identifying nerd, I love books. They definitely got me through 2020. I read mostly poetry, Lucille Clifton, Ocean Vuong.
AT: I cannot go a day without reading some poetry. I read some out loud everyday. I’m reading ‘Citizen’ by Claudia Rankine right now. I heard a wonderful interview with Ocean Vuong on a podcast called ‘Talk Easy’ with Sam Fragoso…it was a replay, but I just heard it a couple of weeks ago….Such a good listen for everyone…especially artists… So I was squealing a little when you listed him just now.
AO: Rankine and Ocean—both luminaries! I love that you read poetry out loud to yourself. I remember leaving my copy of Citizen outside our building in Bed-Stuy before we moved. The right book finds you at the right time on the right stoop in NY. Speaking of books, a lot of your art makes direct references to literature. You've incorporated text from books like Dracula, Parable of Sower, and The Color Purple. I think that was the first body of work of yours I saw.
AT: I am touched by the thought of you leaving a copy of ‘Citizen’ for someone who will need it….Yes, I was inspired by a conversation Terry Gross was having with Gary Shteyngart when they started talking about his epistolary novel ‘Super Sad True Love Story’...my friend Rae Pleasant asked me to do something for the gallery at the main library and after I found out what “epistolary” meant I realized I had read several novels written in that style and got to work turning them into pieces that I wanted to be able to hold that space.
Andrea Tosten, Maybe I Am Not, ink, graphite, colored pencil, and thread on paper, 2020 , I Am Not, ink on paper, 2020, photo by Roxann Grover
AO: It made an impression on me, as did your subsequent projects. You always expand my vocabulary: Epistolary, Flibbertigibbet, and most recently, Griffe.
AT: This makes me so happy. I love to joke around about how much I try to avoid ‘live, laugh, love’...I feel it can become a slippery slope with some words…I have always marveled at how poets can make emotional landscapes tangible with the right combinations of words…maybe I hope by osmosis of reading some everyday I will avoid my work belonging in ‘At Home’ (formerly known as ‘Garden Ridge’) ha, ha, ha.
I feel a connection that our work shares is a performative element. I also enjoy your sense of humor. It shines through in your work.
AO: Don’t worry, your work is too subversive for At Home, the furniture superstore! Thanks for picking up on my humor, often it’s imbued with sadness, other times it’s cheeky. I think our work also shares layers of meaning and communion with other artists and ancestors.
AT: I agree! Do you collaborate with your son yet?
Alisa Ochoa, Still from HAPPY BIRTHDAY, 2021-22, Single Channel Video with Sound, TRT 1:22
AO: Absolutely, he is my best muse, and inspiration for the rattles. He even helped form the ceramic beads that went inside the vessels. And most recently, he (and some of his friends) were featured in a video. They are the future! I noticed your oldest son is credited for the music in one of your videos. I was especially moved by his rendition of Please Don't Drive Me.
AT: Thank you so much. I almost cried when he sent me the audio file. I asked him to pick whichever song he connected with most in the back of Zora Neale Hurston’s ‘Mules and Men’ and he picked that one…arranged it, sang it, played the guitar, and mixed and produced it. I still can’t stop thanking him for his beautiful work on it. We have some other collabs in the works. I am so excited to hear your son is working on pieces with you.
AO: It’s an opportunity to connect and share something together. He keeps me present and focused on things that matter most. Everyone needs to see your video and listen to Dashon’s song. I’m also happy to learn about your future collabs. Dashon is so talented.
Andrea Tosten, Still from ‘Please Don’t Drive Me’
AT: I’m so happy you saw it and heard it. Dashon is a great person. My youngest son (also a fantastic person) has not been interested in collaborating directly in any pieces yet, but I am leaving the door open. He is a very talented artist and actor. Are you in a residency program currently?
AO: It’s great that your youngest is around all this creativity, and finding his way too. I’m in the last months of a fellowship. I had originally proposed a bilingual printmaking project that played with the slippage of memory, language, and the color blue. It is super personal work— which has been a new vulnerable territory to explore. Perhaps all work is personal on some level. Anyways, I saw this project as a way to hold onto a heritage (and my mom) that is painfully slipping away with her dementia. It is also sweet and funny— but it’s a little too heart heavy. I’ve decided to put aside the bilingual component for now. Imagery has been emotionally easier to work with. I feel like your work collapses the visual, lingual, and aural. The repetition of shapes, movements and letter forms in both your 2D and video play around with sound.
AT: I am sorry to hear that your mom is going through dementia. What a great way to honor her and your heritage. One of my favorite artists is Agnes Martin… and something about what you’ve said here with imagery and emotion…when I think about the way you use color in your work…I looked back at some of your work recently and you are so skilled at capturing subtle emotions with the way you use color. Thank you for sharing this about the way I use calligraphy and video. I have another friend who shares your name Alisa (Banks), and we are going to collaborate on a body of work about Louisiana Creole language and Jamaican Nation language (a.k.a. patois).
AO: How did you connect with Alisa Banks about the collaboration?
AT: I first saw her work…it was at the South Dallas Cultural Center when Harold Stewart was the director/manager there. I remember connecting with her materials (paper, graphite, pressed flowers)…I remember noticing a photograph in the exhibition of a Black Virgin Mary, and I thought to myself, “She was raised Black Catholic too”. My memory is fuzzy on how we connected, but I think I contacted her to purchase a piece and we started to hang out sometimes and get to know each other. Eventually, I made the connection that her daughter, Andrea, volunteered at the Dallas Contemporary when I worked there (she makes beautiful jewelry). The more we got to know each other the more we discovered common threads in our work. I cannot wait to see what comes of this more intimate collaboration…more intimate in terms of doing the work in the same room, in conversation, engaging in active, concurrent creative time…I think I’ve been a little intimidated in the past to collaborate in that way for a few reasons…feeling a little insecure at times in my visual arts creative voice, worrying that I’d be too timid to hold space and participate meaningfully in the process, and being fearful about possible conflict. I’ve been working on accepting myself more and I think it has helped me let go of the fears more along the way.
AO: It’s a journey. Thanks for being so open about your insecurities and fear, and your process of letting go to forge creative trust with another artist, but also yourself! I want to spend time in the South with you and Alisa Banks. I’m so curious how this project will manifest. Are you still in the research phase? I appreciate how deeply you dive into your projects.
AT: I would love that. I can’t wait to see what we come up with either. Yes, we are still researching. Are you talking about Spanish when you say bilingual or another language?
AO: I’m of mixed heritage, my mom is Thai— and I didn’t learn it because my mom was committed to the idea that being an American citizen meant you only spoke English at home. Mom, my younger brother, and I learned by watching a lot of Sesame Street and The Price is Right together. Sometimes I would overhear her on the phone speaking Thai to relatives or friends. It was her secret, magical language.
AT: Wow…I keep getting amazed (even though I shouldn’t) about the far reaching effects of colonialism and imperialism in terms of time and distance from Europe. This is definitely a connection we share in our work…
Alisa Ochoa, Wave, 2021, Handmade Denim Papers with Milkweed Seeds, Collage, 4 x 6 x 8 inches, photo by Eva Lempert
AO: For sure. Natasha Trethewey is another poet I’ve read the past couple of years. Have you read Memorial Drive?
AT: I have not, but I will. I will need more poetry for my daily reading. I plan on getting some of Ocean Vuong’s poetry and Natasha Trethewey poetry next. Are you staying in California after the residency fellowship?
AO: I am. Are there any juicy books you’d recommend?
AT: Okay, I ask because I was planning on going out to California (I believe near you) year before last, but of course we all know what happened…but I plan on seeing that trip come to fruition (maybe next year).
AO: Yes!
AT: My book recommendation… ‘Braiding Sweetgrass’ by Robin Wall Kimmerer… <3 <3 <3
AO: That book offers gorgeous wisdom. I need to re-read it. This is the third time it’s come up in conversation this week.
AT: I can believe it (that you’ve had it come up a lot). I enjoy the connections made with visual art, science, history, economics, etc. It is imperative that we reimagine how we run our economy or nothing will change…the environment will continue to be destroyed.
AO: That’s the big message. I love her writing style and how she delivers a heavy message in a personal way that connects all the dots. You can get a sense of how tending and caring flows in her life. I mean, there are whole chapters on strawberries, mothers, offerings.
AT: Yes, I would find myself tearing up everytime I read a section or chapter. She centered the importance of love, gifts, reciprocity…not guilt. Guilt can paralyze.
AO: Guilt and shame… I love the alternative world this book offers.
AT: I agree…guilt and shame are the ways that corporations have encouraged us to give up on the possibilities of other ways to run economies. Kimmerer does reference the fact that ingenious cultures had sustainable ways of existing that were pushed aside. Another friend of mine sent me information about Poverty Point, Louisiana (an UNESCO World Heritage Site)…David Graeber and David Wengrow mention it in their book ‘The Dawn of Everything’. I have not read the book, but my husband bought it, so we have it now…anyway, we are going to Poverty Point in July…it is one of the ancient sites where tribes of the Americas would gather, exchange information, and then go back to their homes…apparently, they intentionally did this to avoid creating a hierarchy of tribes.
AO: Wow, that’s going to be an important trip. I’ll definitely have to check out that book too. Are there other sites you will visit? Earlier you mentioned researching Louisiana Creole.
AT: Me, my husband, and youngest son are going…Alisa Banks is from a small town outside of Baton Rouge and my dad is from Lake Charles…my mom is from Jamaica. Alisa’s parents spoke some Creole. My dad’s immediate family did not speak any. My mom’s immediate family did not really speak Jamaican nation language (a.k.a. patois) either. When you told me your family experience with your mom having to assimilate and you not getting to learn Thai, it really resonated with me.
AO: Absolutely, there’s this shared erasure that happens with language, culture, food. My dad is Chicano/x and growing up in Los Angeles public schools Spanish or Native language was forbidden, even punishable. And inventiveness too. I think we’re both trying to reclaim what was lost, and there’s power in that. A gift for the next generation.
AT: Absolutely, it is a necessary part of reimagining society. My youngest son’s father is from Mexico…I feel it’s important to inform myself about some Mexican history and Spanish language as well and encourage him to talk with his father about it, and research for himself. ‘Decolonizing the Mind’ by Ngugi wa Thiong'o is an awesome read addressing exactly what we are talking about. Alisa Banks and I have both read it as part of our research.
AO: It’s on my list. Do you have a vision of how your research will manifest in your art practice?
AT: Yes… ‘Decolonizing the Mind’ is a short and potent read. I don’t know that I necessarily have a vision of how the research will manifest in my art practice… I just know that I am on fire to read and it keeps me “pregnant” with ideas.
AO: I love that. Let it gestate and guide you. It will make its way into the world in time.
AT: Exactly…what about you? How does research fit into your practice?
AO: With the fruit rattles, I was just making these things to pass time during lockdown, not thinking too much about them. Getting lost in the process was therapeutic and fun. I rediscovered Yoko Ono’s Grapefruit. Then, I realized these fruit references were taking shape: still-lives, life cycles, literature, songs, abundance, and diaspora. The same with my current project about my mom’s dementia. I just try to make what I want to make before self-doubt takes over. You know, that little voice that tsk-tsks? I usually find that even weirdo ideas have a purpose, even if it’s only to guide me to the next thing.
AT: I admire that…to a certain extent I feel I am still working my way out of a perfectionist / co-dependent mind-set…I started out painting and drawing…I think feeling like these were THE acceptable modes of making art. When I started to incorporate my calligraphy skills into my visual art practice, that’s where I felt my journey towards “speaking” visually in my voice begin.
AO: Thank you for offering this. I don’t think you’re alone in that feeling. How did calligraphy begin for you?
AT: I took my first calligraphy class in middle school. I believe the teachers were given an opportunity to teach something they were interested in and they offered the students mini-courses. I took calligraphy and French. I kept practicing and continue to take classes and work through calligraphy books till this day. When my friend Rae asked me to show at the library, it felt like the right time to combine my calligraphy and visual art practice.
Andrea Tosten, Epistolary Paper Quilt: Falling Action I, ink and thread on paper, 2017, photo by Cynthia Mulcahy
AO: That’s where I first saw your work. And where this conversation began. I love that hand lettering and your hands appear in the videos too.
AT: Thank you so much. Fabiola Valenzuela did such a wonderful job editing the video. Her eye really brought something special to that piece. And Brian Jones did such a fantastic job with the ‘Flibbertigibbet’ series. I’ve been friends with both artists for a long time. How long were you in Texas? Do you miss it here?
AO: Your friends and loved ones are part of your life and work too. Agnes Varda, Luchita Hurtado, LaToya Ruby Frazier, and so many artists I admire also collapse aspects of their daily life. We lived in Dallas for three years. It left an indelible mark for sure. Our coastal friends always ask us about our time there. It was an unexpected stop, but we’re really grateful for our time there. I miss the people and pecan trees. While we lived in there, I took ceramic courses at a community college, which really helped build my confidence in ceramic sculpture.
AT: The community college professors in Dallas are really good. I am so glad to hear that. I wonder about California vs. Texas for people who have lived in both states, because of the concerted effort to divide the country up into red states and blue states. I don’t like it. I have lived in Texas all my life, and it’s not a “red state”. It has the highest concentration of black people in the US… it feels like some secret group who controls the means of production looked at the two largest states and said “One is red and one is blue”.
AO: I also learned from other students, there was such openness and skill sharing that I hadn’t experienced anywhere else. I heard someone once say, “Left wing, right wing, it’s all the same chicken.” Maybe it’s not so much versus? It’s a patchwork of red, blue, and everything else in the rainbow. It’s easier to make sweeping generalizations than to capture the nuances. The truth is cruelty and suffering exists all around— yet so does beauty and humanity. My personal experiences have been limited, for instance I have not been north of San Francisco— or like West Texas. They’re vast states. After Hurricane Katrina, some of our friends, like many of the displaced residents, found a home in Texas. So many Californians have left for Texas (and elsewhere) for work and housing opportunities. Complex stuff like migration and policies have shaped both of these places.
AT: Is Los Angeles extremely different from Dallas?… for instance, since the cost of living is higher there, do the residents get paid more and therefore, are there still the same percentages of affordable housing problems, etc.?
AO: The landscape and culture are very different, yet there’s more in common than one might expect. For example, there’s a lot of concrete and traffic! You’ll have to experience it for yourself to decide. Minimum wage is almost double in CA, by no means is it livable. There is not enough affordable housing, healthcare, or other social/economic support. Rent is too damn high!
AT: Houston seems to have better stats in regards to these types of issues, but I haven’t lived in Houston. Do you spend more time outside in LA than you did in Dallas?
AO: Good question. I spent a lot of time outdoors in Dallas because we lived in a one-bedroom apartment with our then-toddler. On summer days, we would retreat from the heat by the afternoon, and re-emerge for a walk before bedtime. Here in California, we probably spend more time outdoors year round. There’s more of an ease since the weather’s mild, and because of that I rarely check the forecast. Whereas in New York or Dallas, one has to obsessively check and prepare. If you’re caught without an umbrella or the right shoes, you’re in trouble. I appreciated the rain and lightning storms of Texas, especially if I didn’t have to drive on the freeway.
AT: Understandable…LA looks so beautiful too, of course, I’ve never lived there, but it seems like because one can see the mountains and hills around the city, “nature” in the kind of separate and far away or pocketed way it can feel in Dallas, is less so there. Is that right?
AO: I see what you mean about Dallas. It’s hard to describe, and I probably need more time to consider this— but in LA and coastal California the landscape is so dramatic, and maybe more accessible? It can still feel separate here too, depending on where you are, and/or how hazy or smoky the sky is. The ocean, mountains, desert, technicolor sunsets are to behold, and definitely influence a kind of lifestyle and art. Like any relationship though, nature can be taken for granted and requires a kind of intention. I was impressed how green Dallas was when we first arrived there. And the open, clear skies. Do you think the landscape and how the city is laid out has made an impact on artist communities and your art?
AT: Yes, I do…Dallas has the largest urban forest in the country, but the city council doesn’t fund upkeep or encourage much city investment in supporting its conservation. I mentioned last time that Houston has better stats in a lot of regards than Dallas concerning standard of living…I found this out by attending some meetings artists initiated regarding city investment. I am very fuzzy of the details now because it had to be a couple of years before COVID…but anyway, Houston’s city council and wealthy citizens seems to coordinate better on these types of issues, and the outcomes for artists who live in that city are markedly better and it shows up in the data points that are used to measure those outcomes. I read ‘The Accommodation’ by Jim Schutze and the introduction, Dallas specific section, and conclusion of ‘The Black Panthers in a City Near You’ edited by Judson L. Jeffries…and the history of Dallas definitely shows up in its present day culture.
AO: I’m inspired to hear that you engage in city council meetings with other artists in your community. I think at the end of this interview we should compile a list of books we’re dropping. I was actually going to ask you if there were any books about Dallas that you’d recommend, and you beat me to it! When my family moved to CA I read City of Inmates by Kelly Lytle Hernández and A Different Shade of Orange: Voices of Orange County, Black Pioneers to help me situate. Libraries are important sanctuaries for research, knowledge, meeting, and exhibiting. Although that hasn’t always been the case, historically. If book bans are successful a lot of these titles we’ve mentioned would shift circulation or become extremely limited.
AT: Yes, that is a fantastic idea. Yes, I think that’s why I have developed a bit of a book ordering addiction. I’ve managed to slow down and even stop ordering books for a bit…but the bibliographies and mid-reading mentions of sources gets me a lot…books are better at getting me to order things than social media…ha,ha,ha.
AO: I totally feel you on this. I’ve been impressed by the library catalogs in every city I’ve lived in. I try really hard not to buy books— perhaps holding them is to preserve them not only for ourselves but for others? It’s interesting to think about how ideas and knowledge circulate within constraints. Reminds me of oral storytelling and traditions— bodies of knowledge passed down generations.
AT: I agree….I was a lot more involved with the library before the pandemic hit. I feel to a certain extent I might need to be ready to circulate some of these books. I had never heard of a lot of the titles (the books written in the 60s and 70s about socialism and black liberation mainly) I am reading before now. For one thing, there is a concerted effort to discourage and stop people from learning about, thinking about, and expanding on alternatives to capitalism.
AO: Right, it’s a threat to long-standing, oppressive systems. Hoarding resources, restricting knowledge, and limiting power are roadblocks to liberation. Going back to Braiding Sweetgrass, the idea of reciprocity… are you still working as a book repairer/conservator? There’s so much care in your artwork, and that also extends to your work outside the studio.
AT: Yes, I am still repairing books. I feel so fortunate to work there. I work with other artists and we are involved in repairing existing materials. I feel fortunate to be working at a place that is aligned with the way I want to participate in the economy, the community, in visual arts, etc.
AO: I love that. I think that’s a good place to end, don’t you?
AT: Yes…this has been so wonderful. I’m deeply grateful that you had me to engage in discussion with you. I’m so excited to enrich our friendship in this way. I hope to keep in touch on a more regular basis… other than our social media connections I mean. I love seeing that we are into a lot of similar interests in that space. <3 <3 <3
AO: I could nerd out with you forever. Andrea, I appreciate your time and our growing friendship. I look forward to seeing you in person, either in California, Texas, or Louisiana in the near future. Who knows! And I can’t wait to see how your projects unfold. Thank you!
Books mentioned in order of appearance… Citizen by Claudia Rankine Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer The Dawn of Everything by David Graeber and David Wengrow Decolonizing the Mind by Ngugi wa Thiong'o The Accommodation by Jim Schutze The Black Panthers in a City Near You edited by Judson L. Jeffries
How to Carry Water: Selected Poems by Lucille Clifton On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong Memorial Drive by Natasha Trethewey Grapefruit by Yoko Ono City of Inmates by Kelly Lytle Hernández A Different Shade of Orange: Voices of Orange County, Black Pioneers by Robert A. Johnson
Alisa Ochoa is a multidisciplinary artist living and working in Southern California. She applies bold colors and poetic language to all areas of visual expression, including sculpture, painting, and video. Play is a serious matter in her work: meticulously crafted objects and their material stand in for time, memory, and resilience. Ochoa’s artistic achievement has been recognized with residencies at Hunter College Ceramic Department, Penland School of Craft, and Tiger Strikes Asteroid, Los Angeles, and with exhibitions nationwide. Her artwork has been reviewed online and in print, including The Los Angeles Times, in which David Pagel wrote “Alisa Ochoa’s homemade book, in which design tells the story so well that words are obsolete.” She is a current recipient of the 2021-22 Kala Art Institute Fellowship in Berkeley, CA.
alisaochoa.com @ochoamix
Andrea Tosten is a calligrapher and a bookbinder. She has a Bachelor of Science in BioMedical Science from Texas A&M University and a Master of Liberal Arts in Museum Studies from the University of Oklahoma.
Common themes explored through her work are social constructs, binary thinking, and the nature of existence. She often utilizes letterforms, paper, and sewing to recontextualize and conceptualize her Catholic upbringing, her background, and where she fits into how history has unfolded. Influences include Annette Lawrence, Janine Antoni, Tierney Malone and Glenn Ligon.
Past exhibitions include Griffe (solo exhibition curated by Nell Potasznik-Langford), February 12 2021-March 19, 2021, Cluley Projects, Dallas, Texas and Going Through a Phase (group show curated by Dennis Nance), October 10, 2020-February 3, 2021, Galveston Arts Center, Galveston, Texas. She was the recipient of the 2020 CADD x Maddrey Artist Prize, Third Prize Winner.
www.a-scribe.squarespace.com @ascribe1
