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Sophia Hatzikos, MFA in Visual Art ’24



Sophia Hatzikos earned her MFA in Visual Art from the Sam Fox School at WashU in 2024. In the 2024-25 academic year, she was the second person to hold the school’s Post-MFA Studio Fellowship, which provides a recent MFA graduate studio space in Weil Hall and access to university making spaces, libraries, and more. In April 2025, Hatzikos mounted a solo exhibition, “Zestí,” at the Kranzberg Arts Foundation. In this article, she shares some of the most significant things she learned during her fellowship year.

Her next steps include serving as a studio assistant for artist Tamara Johnson, the school’s 2022-23 Henry L. and Natalie E. Freund Teaching Fellow. Hatzikos will return to St. Louis in fall 2025 to conduct a Fox Friday workshop and present an artist talk on her work.


#1 Keep making like nobody’s watching.

After graduating, there’s no assignment, no assigned exhibition, no deadline. It’s on you to maintain your practice. It was challenging, at first, to figure out where I belonged. I wasn’t a student, faculty, or staff. But that also meant that I was in charge of how I worked and had the freedom to build a more intuitive studio practice.

#2 Be intentional about how you spend your time.

I wanted to give myself the year after graduate school to make. I prioritized that over everything else. I tried to be in the studio any time that I wasn’t making income or taking care of myself.

I learned I really like full days, at least three a week. I don’t want two hours in the studio here and there; I want a solid, uninterrupted stretch. I’d set up my meetings and part-time work in a way that would leave me more time in the studio.

There are different elements of your studio practice to manage and make time for. There’s making, and there’s also applying to opportunities, managing email, engaging with community and conversation, and logistics.

#3 It’s ok to go where the wind takes you.

I’ve always walked into the school year ready to start a new piece of research. Last year, I thought my thesis work was going to be about the River Des Peres. This year, I was set on a body of work about viewing the Olympics as landscape. But once I’m in the studio, I go with my gut on what feels most intuitive to make at a given time. It turned out this year that I was captivated thinking about the wind and atmosphere of Greece and trying to sensorially relocate back there. I think that’s when opportunities come your way — when you have a focus and sense of direction.

#4 How to put together an exhibition on your own

I decided that I wanted to build out a body of work that would become an exhibition this year — that was my goal for the fellowship. I had been thinking about my MFA thesis work and how there were other gestures I wanted to add, but the capacity, time, or ability just didn’t fit into that timeline.

Advocating for my own success and visibility is something I really took the reins of this year, especially by inviting the community in for studio visits. I still don’t know a lot, but I’m learning.

Putting an exhibition together on your own is really hard. I was planning nine months out, and I learned that most exhibitions are planned out multiple years in advance, especially if you want a space to yourself. This one almost didn’t happen, but I really hustled, and finally someone said yes. A studio visit with Gina Grafos, the chief curator and director of visual and literary art at the Kranzberg Arts Foundation, opened up an opportunity to have a pop-up exhibition in their space. I appreciate that visit and Gina’s support so much—the exhibition wouldn’t have happened without it.

#5 You know you love a place once you leave it.

A lot of my work explores place, and I’m focused on water — I knew that a year ago, but I wasn’t sure how to claim it until more recently. Place isn’t just landscape, it’s people and contact and culture. I love sitting down by the Mississippi River near the Arch and just letting the day end. But, I don’t feel as grounded here as in places where water is more accessible and more integrated, which has been an important experience and realization for me. I care deeply for the ocean and the sea in Greece, where my family is from, and that sense of longing while I’ve lived in St. Louis has helped me figure out the right work to make here. Every piece I made for the exhibition this spring was like an anchor trying to reattach myself to a different location and time — like little portals. I’m curious if I’ll be making about Missouri in the future, when I’m elsewhere. Ask me in a year!

#6 You’ll always forget how much time, effort, and support installation takes.

The work to get an exhibition ready is a feat. I wrote myself a lot of notes on how things felt so that I have a better memory of how long things take next time, including scheduling enough rest for myself.

#7 It feels good to finish a project and know where your energy is going to go next.

Finishing my exhibition was intense, but I feel satisfied. I think of each piece in the exhibition as a paragraph that contributed to a larger essay, and that essay is complete. Now, I get to revisit some work I was creating before the exhibition ramped up. I’ll make another visit to Greece, and I’ll get to test out these floating, wearable sculptures that I’ve been working on.

#8 There won’t be another year like this.

There was no place more magical that I could have spent my first year after graduate school, because I already knew how to make here. I had a foundation, a community, and access to tools and shops and got to focus on making, while still having access to learning opportunities. Just a few weeks ago, I learned about tap and die, which is a way to connect metal without having to weld.

Right now, I understand a life in the arts to be uncertain and unpredictable, and I enjoyed the gift of stability and sustained community from this year.