Today we’d like to introduce you to Sandra C..
Hi Sandra C., so excited to have you on the platform. So before we get into questions about your work-life, maybe you can bring our readers up to speed on your story and how you got to where you are today?
I am a mixed media visual artist, a mother of two amazing human beings, a daughter, a fiancé and a friend.
I was born in Queens, New York, to Ecuadorian parents, but when I was still a baby my mom and I moved back to Quito, where I grew up. By my early twenties, I was already very socially and politically active, and I lived through a period of intense repression in Ecuador. After witnessing so much violence and loss, I decided to leave and start over in the U.S. I was young, scared, and had no idea what the future would look like, but I knew I needed to rebuild. Even before I became a mother, I was thinking about the kind of cultural legacy I wanted to pass on—what stories, traditions, and memories could be carried forward—which later became central to my art and the work I created for my children.
Art became my bridge. I had been doing documentary photography in Quito, and when I arrived in the U.S., my practice slowly expanded into printmaking, artist books, and sculpture. Many of the artist books I made were inspired by the idea of passing something meaningful to my children—capturing cultural memory, heritage, and the stories I wanted them to carry with them. I also drew on traditional practices I grew up around—basketry, woodwork, crochet, sewing—and found in them a sense of resilience, craft, and beauty that has remained a foundation of my work.
I went on to get my MA and MFA at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, and then I taught for more than twenty-five years at universities across the U.S., including the University of Texas. Teaching was a huge part of my life. I loved mentoring students, helping them find their voices, and creating a sense of community—it fed me as much as it fed them.
When I moved to Austin to teach at the University of Texas, I connected with Chicano artists and organizations that gave my work a stronger context and inspired me to confront a wider range of concerns. My practice deepened into themes of migration, memory, and social justice—honoring those who are silenced or overlooked—while also engaging with issues of gender and the experience of being a Latina navigating multiple worlds. At the same time, my work continues to affirm resilience, craft, and beauty as ways of reclaiming and reshaping identity.
In the last couple of years, my work has evolved into new series. In the series Vases of Hope, I sew old cut-out prints back together into vessels overflowing with flowers, symbolizing regeneration and new beginnings—life’s ability to flourish even in adversity. In the series Sporadic Moments (Memorias Sueltas), I repurpose fifteen years of drawings, prints, and cyanotypes into layered works that include family photographs, letters, organic materials, and pages from an eighteenth-century book of crimes and misdemeanors. These pieces explore dislocation, relocation, memory, and identity, offering space for healing and renewal.
Honestly, the reason I’ve been drawn to these projects is because of the world we’re living in. The sorrows and injustices around us, and the tense political climate in the U.S., have made me look for a brighter, more hopeful side of humanity. I want my work to carry lightness and joy, to honor resilience, craft, and beauty, and to create something meaningful not only for me but for my children and future generations.
We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
I wouldn’t say it’s been a smooth road. One of the biggest challenges has been navigating the feeling of being “out of place”—adjusting to new cultures, learning unspoken rules, and figuring out how to carve out a life in a place that didn’t yet feel like home. There were moments of isolation, uncertainty, and self-doubt, and balancing those with family, work, and personal growth hasn’t always been easy.
Art has been both a companion and a guide through these challenges. Creating—whether it’s printmaking, artist books, sculpture, or installations—has given me a way to process difficult memories, make sense of change, and turn struggles into something tangible and meaningful. My work has allowed me to explore resilience, identity, and belonging, while also offering a way to find hope and continuity in the midst of life’s uncertainties.
What’s next?
I just relocated back to Austin after eight years in New Jersey, so for now, that’s the biggest change! But I’m very motivated to continue my studio practice now that I’m working full-time as an artist. I’m starting a project that has me really excited—I’ll be working at Flatbed Center for Contemporary Printmaking, here in Austin, producing an edition of large-scale prints focused on migrant women in Austin. The edition will be part of an exhibition at Flatbed in March next year, so keep an eye out for announcements!
At the same time, I’m preparing another show that complements this project, featuring women who have migrated to Austin from different parts of the world. I’m really looking forward to exploring these themes, continuing to collaborate with the community, and seeing how the work evolves in the studio and in public spaces.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.sandrafernandez.art
- Instagram: @sfernandezart
- Facebook: sfernandezart
