Artist Interviews 2025

Camilla Taylor  
By Laura Siebold


Image credit Tony Pinto

Camilla Taylor’s body of work is hard to assign to a specific category. Their sculptures incorporate and represent beliefs, ideas, and visions – of the past, the present, and (a better) future. Camilla shares their awareness for and dedication to social and moral justice, doing their part to communicate with the viewer through their art. As an exhibitor in the recent exhibition “Out of the Ashes” at Craig Krull Gallery in Santa Monica, CA, the artist shares their story after the recent fires in Los Angeles took their home and studio. With most of their work and tools lost, what remains is the possibility of starting over in Los Angeles, with honest projects and new materials. Learn more about Camilla’s artistic journey in the interview below.



Camilla, your work shows the scope of your talent – you produce sculptures, ceramics, prints, and occasionally engraved metal pieces. What inspires your diverse body of work? What is your secret?


I believe that the medium should follow the message the artwork is meant to convey. Because of this, I’ve learned how to work in many different media. Lately, I’ve been trying to learn less and just use the skills I already have. It was among my new year’s resolutions to just use what skills I have and not spend time gaining new ones, but I already broke that by learning aluminum welding to make my piece for “Out of the Ashes.”



Can you tell us a little bit about your early years as an artist? Where did you grow up and did you enjoy an early art education? When did you start creating art and how did you find your unique voice?


I grew up in Provo, UT. I didn’t have much of an art education as a child beyond basic art classes. My high school art teacher, Jamie Rees, was very encouraging and I owe a lot of my early confidence to him. He was willing to tell you when you didn’t rise to what he expected you were capable of.



As an artist and a teacher in Los Angeles, you come in contact with many different people of different age groups and backgrounds. How does the reception of your work differ depending on the environment you exhibit or teach in?


I tend not to show much of my own artwork to my students. When I was an undergrad, I noticed a trend of professors creating, inadvertently or not, little clones of themselves. Young artists were emulating the most successful artists they knew, who were typically their professors, and I want to avoid that in my classrooms. So, I limit showing my own finished artwork in class. It’s easy for them to seek out, I exhibit frequently, and I have an active social media and website, but few students do. Because of that, I don’t know what they think of my artwork. Most of my artwork is seen in galleries, and that’s a self-selecting crowd: people who want to see art and usually want to be somewhat challenged by it. The most unexpected reactions I receive are when I exhibit with institutions, like a college or university gallery. I usually forbid the questions “what inspires you” and “how long did this take you,” because they aren’t really interesting questions. What I get asked instead varies and is often unexpected, like “how do you feel about suicide” from my last artist talk. I’m also often told that my sculptures resemble nightmares that the viewer has had, which is the most ideal feedback.



Your sculptures are very figurative and often address ongoing political and social issues and inequalities. Can you go into detail about the thought process behind your work?


I try not to address issues very directly. I try not to be didactic in my work, I think it should ask a question of the viewer rather than answer one. I want the viewer to have a personal experience with a piece, rather than feel like they are being spoken to en masse. That can often mean that most viewers are not my audience, because it’s impossible to say something specific to everyone.




You donated the proceeds from the sale of your bird sculptures to relief efforts in Gaza and Palestine. Have you always been passionate about international affairs? Are the birds symbolically related to the ongoing crimes against humanity?


I sold house sparrow sculptures, some of the individuals that weren’t included in my large piece “The Eye of God” that is made of 281 individual bird sculptures. I don’t want to make bird sculptures anymore, but people have often asked if they can buy one, so I thought it would be an effective means of raising money. The house sparrow is everywhere, a bird that I see here in Los Angeles and lives in Palestine. I thought that commonality was important. Sadly, I wasn’t able to complete my fundraiser, as the remaining 2 birds were destroyed in the Eaton fire. I literally had an inquiry from someone looking to buy one on the day my house burned down. I have been active with raising funds in other efforts in the past. I used a series about growing up in a conservative and restrictive culture to raise funds for direct abortion access–a series of prints of folding chairs–and I made a series of ceramic crying vases, “Chorus Vases,” to raise funds for the national bail out project and legal representation. I also made a series of tiny hand sculptures to raise and donate funds for refugee children in the US. I’ve also raised money for a cat rescue with a portrait of my own cats and raised funds for arthropod conservation with a jewelry series of insect wings. It’s kind of funny to write them all out like that. I’ve gotten better with each effort, figuring out how to more effectively get momentum towards a cause each time. I can’t address all injustices, but I try to be active in those things that I, as an American citizen, am directly implicated in. We, the US, fund the ongoing genocide in Palestine, so I am directly implicated in that war.



You reclaim the clay from your studio to create new ceramics, proving that loss and destruction can lead to new creation. How would you describe this process of transformation? Does it represent a rebirth or metamorphosis to you?


I reclaim the clay from other studios. It’s the waste material from ceramic classes at universities and high schools. I think students have a tendency to be wasteful with materials when they don’t have to pay for it, and as a result, hundreds of pounds of clay are thrown away. I collect the clay from those sources and re-use it. I have a philosophy that we should be as easy on the world as we can. I think of the re-used materials as things that are haunted by their own past, and that their past use is still embedded in the object even if it’s no longer evident.



You’ve exhibited your work at many different galleries and have also had several solo exhibitions in the US. What do you like about those public exhibitions and where can we find your art?


Art is communication and it doesn’t get activated until it’s actually communicating with someone else. I prefer to show my work in solo exhibits where I can lead a viewer through several iterations of the concept I’m addressing. I think of an art show like an essay, each piece reinforces the thesis of the essay in some way. Right now, you can find my art with my galleries Track 16 and Kanda&Oliveira. I have a solo exhibit coming up in November with Track 16 Gallery.



Where are some of your site-specific installations located? Is there a project you are most proud of and what is the story behind it if you don’t mind sharing?


I had a dream about a creature living in my friend’s perfectly round swimming pool. As soon as I woke up, I emailed them and asked if I could use their pool for a temporary art installation. They were delighted and said yes. I made several pieces specifically for their pool and garden, and they let me use their home as a temporary art gallery for a weekend. “The Mirror’s Deception” was a very brief project and changed much about how I feel competent proposing ambitious projects to others afterwards.


Image credit Mike Reynolds

Your body of work has a strong introspective character. In what ways can art offer reflection and healing – for yourself and for the community? How will you move forward after the loss of your house, art, and studio in the recent Eaton Fire in Altadena? Elaborate.


I think that art is better suited to understanding as the end goal. I can be honest in my work about the loss and the struggle and hopefully help tell the story that others in my community are experiencing as well. I haven’t been moved to work in clay again after it being my primary sculptural medium for several years. It was very difficult to return to the site of my studio and find the shattered remains of so much ceramic, large sculptures reduced to fragments. People kept telling me that ceramic would survive if nothing else, but they couldn’t anticipate or understand the heat and destruction of the fire. There was nothing that survived. I had a favorite tool I always used with clay, an old paring knife, and now it’s gone, and I don’t want to figure out how to sculpt without it. It feels like a finger was cut off. I’ve shifted to working in other media, fabric, bronze, and glass. Things that I have to make smaller and slower, that I can’t rush, and I can’t rely on the visual drama of scale for.



What makes Los Angeles unique as a(n) (art) community and how can artists benefit from this diverse melting pot of cultures and ideas?


In Los Angeles, if you tell someone you’re doing a thing, they believe you. If you tell someone you’re working on a big project, they not only believe that you are able to do what you say but often have a contact for someone who can help in some way. Things feel more possible here than anywhere else I’ve ever been. I’ve never felt more proud of my city than now. The collective response of support from so many different areas has been incredible. I think it’s often the case that we see something terrible and don’t know how to act, but in this case, Los Angeles knew how to act and did so, collecting and distributing material goods and funds to victims almost immediately. This is not to say there haven’t been those taking advantage, there are scammers and landlords [who are] rent gouging, but by and large, Los Angeles is kind.