Translating Trauma into Impactful Work: An Interview with Uzumaki Cepeda

By Kurt Santana

Uzumaki Cepeda is a Los Angeles based visual and textile artist whose work is characterized by the use of bright, primary colors and faux-fur to produce an intense sensory experience. She has been featured in Fader, NYLON and PAPER and has collaborated with companies such as Reebok and Instagram. One of her most celebrated pieces, “Teenage Bedroom”, which came out of a collaboration with Refinery 29 on their “29 Rooms” series, is perhaps one of the most exemplary of this practice.

While her installations strongly evoke a feeling of nostalgia, they are also designed to showcase the beauty of Black and brown bodies, as well as reflect her cultural upbringing as a Dominican-American and Bronx-native. Perhaps what is most impressive is that she has accomplished so much through interacting with her communities and without any agency or gallery representation. In our conversation we discuss the themes of identity and well-being while contextualizing her journey around the opening of her own gallery.

Hooligan Mag (HM): Hi, Uzumaki, how are you feeling?

Uzumaki Cepeda (UC): I’m in a real stressed place. But like, I just feel like it’s growing pains. This just needs to happen. This is just the beginning of something bigger and great, I just feel it. I just need to not get discouraged because I’m very emotional.

H.M.: That definitely resonates with me. It’s a constant topic of conversation between me and my therapist that as much pain as I go through, it still feels like growth. It’s necessary work.

U.C.: Right, I’ve definitely been going through a lot. And then now, I’m needed in so many different ways. I feel metaphorically, I’ve been Ditto’d, just being stretched and everyone is taking a piece and just running with it until I...

H.M.: Kind of like taffy, being pulled but still intact?

U.C.: Right, I’m just waiting for the bounce back. It feels good that I can provide but it also feels very intense.

H.M.: Thank you for sharing that, I love how vulnerable you let yourself be not just with me but also with Jessica Lanyadoo on Ghost of a Podcast. It made me curious as to what are your internal and spiritual resources that you use to process these moments and the injustice of the world.

U.C.: This is the first in a long time that I’m part of an organized religion. It’s very non-dogmatic and it starts with you and allows you to connect to the Earth. If you wanna get tapped with spirituality, go outside. Go into water, go into nature. Meditate; be there.

I’m all about the power of self and manifesting things for yourself, but I also wanted to be a part of a community with a spiritual structure and teacher that actually inspires me. I feel grounded and art grounds me too. That’s like my number one.

I’m happy that I have my art. Art is my medium and it’s my therapy. And, I have a space that I can invite others into and it’s a controlled environment, from the energy to the actual people in here.

H.M.: That’s a beautiful sentiment and segues into my next question. There’s something synesthetic about your work, in which colors, textiles and even the blocking of pieces within your installations produces both an emotional and sensory experience. I have always wondered how you make associations, such as faux-fur representing safety.

U.C.: The way it started for me, was taking something that really fucked me up and changing it completely. For example, “Teenage Bedroom” meant a lot to me because I was able to recreate the bedroom I grew up in. I grew up in a very unsafe environment, so I had a very bad association with my bedroom.

It’s supposed to be your first safe space, but it wasn’t for me. I took that bad feeling and I turned it into “Teenage Bedroom” and it was a hit, which is crazy because it came from somewhere dark and sinister. I couldn’t really tell the whole story behind it because “29 Rooms” was very quirky and I wasn’t trying to kill the vibe.

That was everything to me. It just reminded me that I control my reality now. I’m taking control of my life in a way.

H.M.: That reminds me of some of the words you used in the video for your collaboration with Reebok, which I found to be powerful. In it, you said, “My inspiration in art is putting things that don’t belong together, together. I’m taking control of my reality and environment. My whole life is like a collage.” I think that last part points to how your work bridges communities. Can you tell me about how moving from coast to coast has informed your identity and you work as an artist?

U.C.: I feel that being a Dominican kid, in a poor-ass apartment with my two brothers and my mom, where we clumped atop of one another, everything was [about] community growing up. I’m happy to have that experience because it taught me the joy of sharing and the joy of being around people. That’s why I love the fact that my art ties in with my activism.

Because, growing up I learned how racism was unknowingly taught to me and how racist my own culture can be. White supremacy and colonialism hits way different in the Dominican-Republic; the anti-blackness runs so deep. So, I’ve been saying Black lives matter for a long time, to the point that people were calling me racist for a Fader article where I said, I’m only photographing Black and brown POC.

It’s not that I’m taking away opportunity, I’m just gonna focus on these people first, because it matters. In order to make that difference and destroy this old belief, this cross that [people] are carrying needs to be shattered. I feel like that ties into community.

As my self-love grows, so does my community. And, I have been taught by so many people about activism, art and life. As I covered myself in my art and started to share my message, my world blew up in the most beautiful way.

H.M.: It’s so encouraging to see you transform grief and trauma into wonderful and impactful work. And now you are in the process of opening your own gallery. What does this opening signal in your journey as an artist?

U.C.: To me it symbolizes, “don’t give up,” I know it sounds corny, but it’s real. I’m telling you, five years ago I never even thought I’d be here. I came to L.A. with no money, just a suitcase and porch to sleep on. Shouts out to them for letting me crash there, cause if it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t have been in L.A. and never discovered fur.

I was staying in a loft in the fabric district, and I would roam around when I wasn’t painting. I saw some royal blue faux-fur and it ended up being the exact amount I needed to cover my canvas. I remember thinking this was my million dollar idea. I was so hyped.

Everyday I would wake up and I’m sharing this space with some artists who would egg me on in the best way. I was eating it up. Coming here with no bread, no financial backing and shooting the shit to five years later having my own gallery. That’s just crazy to me.

My life is definitely in chapters and it's getting bigger and better each time. That’s what I have to remind myself, as I’m talking to you, I’m talking to myself. Despite there being mishaps, as long as you learn your lesson, you can strap on your big girl boots and keep it pushing. This [gallery] represents hard work, dedication, not giving up.

H.M.: That’s why I think your story is so inspiring for artists, especially artists of color. Do you have any words of encouragement for artists trying to navigate within the white dominated sphere of art?

U.C.: The last idea you had is not going to be your last idea. As artists, we hit a lick and things flop and you ask what’s the next move because the idea you had didn’t go off like it should have. Remix it. That’s where I was, where I wasn’t getting love like that, but I worked on my craft.

I think my best advice is definitely to stick to what you believe in. Taking everything that you know, putting it together and keep pushing. Don’t stay stuck. Explore. As you’re exploring yourself, you’re going to find the next medium that you fuck with. Navigate in a way so that you stay true to yourself and don’t bend backwards, because they will have you doing it.

H.M.: I wish I heard that at a younger age.

U.C.: Me too, but I’m still here, 25 and alive, and I’m thriving.

Uzumaki’s newest collection: Reimagined, dropped on September 2nd, 12 PDT. Check out the shop at Uzumaki.Gallery for makeup accessories, furniture pieces featuring Uzumaki’s signature faux fur and photos from her previous installations and campaigns.