In the Studio: Lan Tuazon

Lan Tuazon sits at a large studio table, which holds architectural models, and photos and drawings are pinned to the wall. She is a woman with Filipino heritage, and has long dark hair laced with gray and asymmetrical bangs. She wears a navy blazer and colorful button up underneath.
Lan Tuazon in her studio at the American Academy in Rome, 2024. Photo by Claudia Gori courtesy of American Academy in Rome.

Lan Tuazon is a Chicago-based sculptor and a 2025 Joan Mitchell Fellow. We interviewed her about her work and creative practice in March 2026. The following is excerpted and edited from the artist’s responses.


I am a sculptor. I make everything from carved marble to plastic forms, using medieval to modern methods of making. I don’t just make things, I make things happen. I’m a systems builder and I make sculptures that are radically out of place in our current, conventional reality.

Human beings make things, but things can also make us, objects co-constitute subjects. Things define humanity. With that, I’ve practiced sculpture as a discipline that can systematically rebuild possibilities of being—or better, spaces and things that produce divergent subjects.

Producing one’s own culture is one of the most powerful things you can do. I see possibilities of life and possibilities of being as too predetermined by class, and delimited by capital. One quick way to become poor is to deal in the currency you don’t have, so I deal in the cultural currency I have, which centers on the meaningfulness of life with lived, embodied experiences.

Matters of Consequence is a public sculpture composed of architectural details including a wall with shelves, small stairs, a desk-like shape, and shaped cutouts resembling the grout of stone work, flanked by an arch with cutouts, on a concrete stage with a ramp, and grass and trees in the background.
Lan Tuazon, Matters of Consequence, 2025. Steel, concrete, biolith tile, and recycled pressed plastic, installation view, Boston Public Art Triennial, May 22 - October 31, 2025. Photo by Ryan C McMahon.

I'm interested in systems rooted in life and situated in the open world. Today when we hear the word “system,” we immediately think of systems as structures of power and ideology, but cultural traditions are complex systems of belief and rituals are complex embodiments of values and belonging in the world. I grew up in the Philippines and still today feel connected to cultural traditions, habits, customs, and rituals. I remember magical stories and reanimate them symbolically and habitually in my everyday life. I remember rites complete with symbolic accoutrements—tokens, talismans, and totems. To me, the sculptor is the village doctor who builds things as an externalization of our human drives and human powers, as inherent forces in being alive.

Two halves of an angular, seven-sided orb are splayed open to show silvery gray and frost white crystals at their centers. Each half has a white plastic shell with a concrete-colored face where a geode would have been split. The openings in each half are square and framed by an outline resembling a microchip.
Lan Tuazon, Future Fossils: Geode, 2015. Plastic, geode and resin, 4 x 4.5 x 3.5 inches.

My studio is located in the geographic center of Chicago. We live in a storefront building that was initially built as a funeral home, but that was over 120 years ago. There are no ghosts, but I find the building’s history relevant to sculpture’s preoccupation with ephemerality, life cycles, and death. Living quarters are upstairs and the entire first floor is an open floorplan of my studio.

This year with the Joan Mitchell Fellowship, I’m focusing on redesigning my studio as a flexible space that will allow me to maintain a constantly changing practice.

The artist looks across the top of a sculptural piece made up of three upright, white, free-standing panels. Drawings and papers hung on the wall behind the artist are blurry in the background.
Lan Tuazon in her studio at the American Academy in Rome, 2024. Photo by Claudia Gori, courtesy of American Academy in Rome.

Art is an embodied practice, and because I have an appetite for calm, curiosity, and connection, I fuel my work with habits and practices conducive to being in those states of being. I read, draw, and listen to stories all day long. I take deep dives into learning traditional crafts and I zone in to fuel my practice.

My projects can start with either a critical or a propositional prompt. A critical practice starts with research and is conceptually driven. Earlier in my practice I would begin with anthropological and socio-political research on how systems are socio-economic expressions of power and made art critical of that. I’m thinking of my earlier work on power and public monuments such as Architectures of Defense or Army Park. Then I realized the problem of critique is you’re lining up to a conversation that pre-exists you, and lo and behold, power resumes.

The first of two works of art is made up of black, wrought iron fencing material. Railing that swells outward near the bottom creates a square around a second, tighter cluster of taller fence posts. At the center, a ring of even taller posts with spear-like tips curve outward like a newly blossoming flower. A black and white drawing to the right shows six men on horseback and one man with a wolf.
Lan Tuazon, Architectures of Defense, 2010 and Army Park, 2012.

So I shifted into a propositional art practice. Working from what I know critically, I don't have to just react, I can act! Art is my counter proposal. Recently, I’ve been making work that starts with a question. I make installations that stage shared experiences that can lead to discovery. We know so much and feel so little. Experience is limited to what we see and it all happens in the head. My proposal is to return to an art form that is embodiment of experience, to feel what we know, to catch a feeling.

Over Your Head and Under the Weather is an installation formed of a wall with a rounded opening and a side stair composed of blue and gray plastic modular brick containers. Inside the wall is a metal rolling table with an industrial shredder, flanked by a row of black containers with recycling signs.
Lan Tuazon, Over Your Head and Under the Weather, 2024. WaterBricks with artist made steel hardware, Newswood, sheet-pressed plastics, plastics shredder machine, plastic bays, 2 Future Fossils Sculptures, 2 Assorted Drives: Could and Memory, 8 x 18 x 20 feet.

I work on decade-long projects. My current project, started in 2020, is five test-sites for environmental and civic change—making art with the instinct of survival. I just opened Matters of Consequence with Sam Toabe, University Hall Gallery curator for UMASS Boston. The work is my third test site, which asks, what happens when the viewer enters and occupies public art as a socially marked site?

Matters of Consequence is a platform for cultural customs of care and climate-conscious ideas. It also serves as a pedestal to honor the work of grassroots efforts and organization.

Matters of Consequence is set up in an atrium space lit by windows to our right. A chair is pulled up to the desk, which holds three tabletop signs. A plaid blanket is thrown over the back of the chair, and a few coats hang on the rod on the far side of the structure.
Lan Tuazon, Matters of Consequence, 2026. Photography by Ryan McMahon, courtesy of Boston Triennial. Steel, custom sheet-pressed plastic panels, and found objects.

I’ve designed Matters of Consequence as a platform and a flexible place to test out different ways we can meet and gather. More importantly, there is the formal installation of the work, but there is also the real social and economic conditions of the work. There is an Open Call that seeks proposals from faculty and students to host activities to occur onsite of the work. The yearlong installation funds and supports student initiatives from storytelling, skill share, clothing and book drives, or how-to’s. The formal and real conditions of the work hope to discover more abstract conditions of connection, collectivity, and powers of the social. I really hope UMASS students begin to use the installation as a third space.

I still have five more years to finish two more test-sites. I look forward to discovering the questions and inquiries that will guide them. My decade-long projects occur out in the open and are what publicly represent the practice, but these projects are also cover for me to work quietly, privately, and with solitude on artwork—sight-unseen, process-based, and experimental. These hidden artworks are what feed the artist in me and protects the person in me from having to justify the works. I’ve finally figured out a way to double the practice, both career and personal expression, and gain some privacy in art making—such a primal thing.


Interview and editing by Jenny Gill. Learn more about Lan Tuazon’s work at
lantuazon.com

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