Q&A with Artist Blas Isasi, 2024-25 Freund Fellow

I’ve been working for several years on a project called “The weight of a gaze (is to listen to the sound of a kilogram),” which is a series of sculptures that use sand as a way to connect to the Peruvian desert. For me, that landscape is an entry point into Andean cosmology, which I’m exploring as a means to gain better understanding of the present time through alternative perspectives.

I call the sculptures “sandstones.” In the past I’ve used Styrofoam as a base, but in this iteration, I used wood. That material was not only more eco-friendly but also allowed me to push myself further in terms of what I can do or make. Wood can be shaped into slimmer structures that will still hold weight in a way Styrofoam can’t.

I always try to incorporate new materials to keep things interesting. Most recently, I’ve started working with bone — I found a vendor on Etsy who provides bones ethically sourced from wild animals found dead in the forests of California — and putting together chimeric creatures. With this work and material, I’m trying to bring into conversation an embodiment practice that is specific to ancient Andean traditions.

There’s no need to have a familiarity with Andean concepts to have a meaningful experience with the work. The aesthetic aspect of my work is as important as its conceptual dimension — as a viewer, you can enjoy both or only one. In my mind, that’s a hook or an entry point.

If someone is interested, I hope it spurs them to do their homework about the Andes and cosmology. Material culture is a great place to start. The Saint Louis Art Museum has a very interesting pre-contact collection. WashU also has an incredible library, which is a great resource for further exploration. I feel like every person should make their own route into navigating this amazing, super complex universe.

It’s an amazing, fascinating, beautiful country. I wish everyone had the chance to visit and experience it for themselves. We have such a specific postcolonial experience, full of contradictions. That historical experience is useful into understanding many of the things that are happening now, not only in the country but in the world, as we are transitioning to a new era, where many of the paradigms that we have taken for granted that are not there anymore. I feel that countries like Peru may hold the key to understanding many of the things that are happening now.

One of the most exciting things I’ll bring is an ancient, pre-contact Andean balance from the SLAM collection. We know that in pre-contact times, the region operated with a barter economy, so the need for exact measurements and equivalencies was not there in the same way we know today. I’m bringing this artifact into the conversation and confronting it with a modern balance. Together they create an ontological short-circuit, a tension where these two distinct, opposing worldviews converge. I see that as the engine for the exhibition.

The work will be in two different galleries; I think of it as two chapters of the same novel. The first is smaller, more didactic and intellectual in a way. That’s where the balance will be. From there, you go into the larger gallery, where you’ll meet the more spectacular installation. So, you have these two moments that activate different kinds of engagement, capacity, cognition, and feeling.

Curiosity. That’s the most important thing. It’s so difficult to imagine the future, it’s difficult to see the world with different eyes. I hope that my work is an opportunity to understand materiality, forms, and meaning from a different perspective, and be able to bring that into your daily life.

Meaning is a wild beast. I always say this to my students and to anyone who wants to engage with art. Meaning is a result of so many factors interacting with each other. It’s so relational, and the viewer has a big say in it. For me, trying to dictate what artwork means is the wrong way to approach it. Instead, it’s almost a magical thing, and you need to train yourself into riding this beast. I feel like that’s a more productive approach to meaning-making through art.

I was on campus from January to June, so I experienced such a variety of weather — hot, cold, snowy, even the tornado last May. That variety imprinted something on me and my work, particularly because I spent so much time working in the outdoor courtyard that’s part of Walker Hall. I enjoyed that the environment had a say in the creative process. Because it wasn’t a controlled climate, I had to respond to things like rust, like wood warping. It was a very organic process.

I taught a course focused on material experimentation. The idea was for students to learn to read the inherent agency and subjectivity of a material and how to respond to, rather than imposing their will onto a material. It was highly speculative, driven by intuition, and very poetic in its results.

It was such a luxury to teach. The graduate students at the Sam Fox School are so amazing — smart, sensitive, curious. I felt that I was working with them rather than teaching them. We weren’t certain what the end results of our work would be, but navigated it together. It was very fun and fulfilling for me and I’m so grateful for having had the opportunity.

Spending time in Forest Park with my family — it was like a whole universe for my kid!

Isasi’s work will be on view at the Saint Louis Art Museum Feb. 6-Aug. 9, 2026. SLAM will host an artist talk with Isasi Feb. 6 at 6 p.m. Visit slam.org for more details.