María Zamora is an interdisciplinary visual artist based in Seattle. Originally from Mérida, Venezuela, María’s work encapsulates an ever-evolving relationship to her home country from her unique vantage point in the diaspora. Her colorful pieces celebrate her heritage while also addressing complex topics such as migration and displacement. María spoke with Store Assistant Manager Caitlyn Edson for this piece—read on for more about her screenprinting practice, her Grandma Usha’s garden, and Los Cínaros, her original commission for the Frye Art Museum Store alcove.
Words by Caitlyn Edson / Images by Rachael Lang
María Zamora is not afraid of color. When she shared early work-in-progress documentation for her alcove commission, one sketch promised no less than 25 colors—vibrant pinks, lush turquoise, and bright orange tones, overlapping like the dense flora from the landscape of her childhood. In October, María installed Los Cínaros in the Store alcove, and the piece immediately offered a radiant pathway through the wild and gorgeous lands of El Valle, a distinct area in the mountains of Mérida, Venezuela where the artist grew up. María has long been concerned with elevating discourse around her experience as a Venezuelan migrant through her art, and Los Cínaros is a continuation of that work. Over the last few years, María’s practice has shifted away from more literal, graphic charcoal reflections of the cultural and political tension that persists in Venezuela to a more abstract, multidimensional depiction of life there. The latter approach upholds nature as the ultimate truth teller and celebrates its presence as a portal to the artist’s core memories.
María is known for her large, saturated floral screenprinted paper and fabric compositions. These mediums have become her preferred way to explore themes like nostalgia and displacement as they allow her to mirror the expansiveness of her memories and journey as a migrant through intricate, multi-layered prints. With abundant textures and bold color palettes, María recreates lush landscapes that exaggerate and evoke elements of Venezuelan flora and fauna. With this, natural beauty, driven by the potency of nostalgia, is on full display. While being transported to the artist's beautiful hometown in works like Los Cínaros, viewers simultaneously arrive at a depiction of Venezuela that centers the country’s landscape, rather than the fraught reality of its ongoing migrant crisis.
Drawn to visual art from a young age, María began her artistic studies at the Universidad de Los Andes in Mérida and later received her BA with Honors from the University of Washington. In 2022, María completed a screenprinting apprenticeship at the Fabric Workshop and Museum in Philadelphia to further develop a new area of artistic interest with textiles. This apprenticeship allowed her to explore the possibilities of screen printing on a massive scale and cemented her love of this medium.
In a significant contrast to the exacting precision of her painting and drawing practices, María quickly embraced the fast pace and tricky nature of screenprinting. She explains how she is drawn to the “dance-like movements, physically demanding process, puzzling color layers, and problem-solving qualities of screenprinting,” and that “there will always be something new to fail at, learn from, and improve” in her work. She is energized by the intense preparation, color work, layering, and problem solving that printmaking demands. Since taking her first screenprinting class remotely during the 2020 lockdown, María has devoted the last five years of her studio time to creating screenprints in paper and fabric.
In spring 2024, María presented Mi Jardín at Lilith Pole in Tacoma, WA, a solo show dedicated to creating a vessel for memories the artist cultivated growing up. An exercise in healing through the pain of displacement and homesickness, this show created a link to her home country, evoked in rich, saturated hues and intricate textures. María explains that while Los Cínaros is a thematic continuation of the work she made for Mi Jardín, the creation of this piece also marks a significant change in her creative process that mirrors her evolving relationship to Venezuela.
“Piece by piece, I patched together this magical but fragile haven, a temporary escape back to my roots through my imagination,” says María. "Suddenly, I found myself there again, hidden amidst the pointy leaves of the begonias and irises, underneath the tangled branches of the cínaro trees, discovering sleepy frogs in the center of the bromeliad plants, and staring in awe at spider webs sparkling with dew. Through my craft, I am slowly mending the wounds caused by the abrupt departure from the place where I grew up. I am threading new paths, in a different home, while learning to navigate through the ongoing tension and uncertainties forever tied to my country of birth,” she says.
María used this opportunity to experiment with form in ways she had never attempted before. “I wanted to explore something that I haven't really connected into my practice yet, which was my very beginner level sewing skills,” she says. "I wanted to break away from this square format; I didn't want it to have a frame or really straight edges. I wanted it to be as organic as possible and almost three dimensional, and to be more multimedia by mixing fabric, collage, and quilting.” She also explains that using this technique allowed her to depict nature in a way that embraces its wildness. “I’m inspired by nature and nature is not symmetrical,” she says, “it's not stiff and it can be uncontrollable,” referencing the many loosely hanging threads, wavy canvas edges, and three-dimensional elements like colorful butterflies that seem as though they might fly right off of the tapestry.
“I lost myself among the countless stitches, the mountains of fabric scraps and batting, and swirling ink textures. I think this piece was really exciting to make because it's just taking the work that I've been doing until now another step further, and now I'm excited to start exploring these techniques from here on out,” she explains. In making Los Cínaros, María not only unearthed another whimsical, colorful portal to her home country; her experimental approach revealed how her identity as a diasporic artist has shifted alongside her growing practice. This tapestry, dense with the wildness of El Valle, is the culmination of years of processing the distance between herself and the singular environment she was raised in.
Los Cínaros, María says, is dedicated to her family. “Art is something that has allowed me to bond with my family, and that gives me something to be excited to share with them,” she explains. María’s mother and father, a botanist and electrical engineer, have always supported her pursuit of visual art and helped instill an appreciation of the natural world in her from a young age. She comes from a creative family—one of poets, illustrators, and gardeners whose connection to the land shaped some of María's earliest memories. María recalls weekend camping trips in El Valle, hikes in the region’s cloud forests while her mother collected plant samples, searching for fairies in her Grandma Usha’s garden, and visiting Usha’s house—named “Los Cínaros” for the very trees that twist and wind through the artist’s most recent reflections on home.
In Los Cínaros, tucked among the pointy leaves of the begonias and irises, the tangled orange tree branches and bromeliad plants, is the complicated, gnawing reality of the Venezuelan migrant crisis and the cultural and political tension that runs parallel to the undeniable beauty of the region. “Over 8 million Venezuelans like myself have had to migrate from our home country and we live with this uncertainty in that some of us can't ever go back,” explains María. The older she gets, María says, the more complicated her outlook on her home country becomes. She acknowledges that the beauty of Grandma Usha’s garden and the magic that enchanted her there as a child doesn’t discount the struggle enmeshed in daily life. She says that it can be difficult for one’s basic needs like electricity and hot water to be met, and that Venezuelans are increasingly forced to flee the dire economic conditions.
Amidst the pain of displacement, María has found that telling her story through her art has not only created a passageway back to fond memories, but to other artists in the diaspora. “It's really motivating for me because there's this huge movement of different Venezuelan creatives that are spread out all over the world and are contributing to the arts,” explains María. “Instead of being physically distanced and removed from each other, now there's even more ways we can connect,” she says. “There's more of a spotlight on this generation of migrants and generations around my age that remain in Venezuela, that are just really doing this documenting in a way that is celebratory of who we are,” she says, “[This art] doesn't have to be just dictated by a government that we didn't choose,” she explains, "we're so much more than that.”
María’s pursuit of art has also contributed to her feeling more settled in Seattle, where she says an abundance of creative opportunities has helped ground her. She’s currently a shop assistant at Ink Knife Press as well as a dedicated screenprinting instructor at Pratt Fine Arts Center in the Central District. María explains that Seattle, and especially the arts community here, feels like a small town in some of the same ways that Mérida did, providing a sense of place and belonging. During the Frye Fall Exhibitions Reception, a huge show of supporters, fellow artists, and friends turned out to celebrate María’s debut of Los Cínaros, packing the Store with sweet energy and effusive praise for this exceptional original work. In making Los Cínaros, she acknowledges the impact of her friends, students, teachers, and institutional support in uplifting her voice. “Their company throughout these years continues to make Seattle feel like home,” she says.
The creation of Los Cínaros for the Frye Store alcove marks a new season for María and her art practice. Creating this tapestry gave María space to experiment and play with form in ways she never had before, tilling the soil where future work will flourish by adding new techniques to her growing repertoire. What’s next for this incredible artist? She’s eager for more studio time, plans to incorporate unconventional and upcycled materials into her compositions, and explore the possibilities of natural dyes. She plans to wander deeper still into the jungle of her memories, to share more vibrant stories from Grandma Usha’s garden and the cloud forests of El Valle, to make home wherever home feels right, and to return to Venezuela often by way of paper, cloth, ink, and thread.
Los Cínaros will be on view until January 25th in the Frye Art Museum Store. You can connect with María Zamora on social media, by visiting her website, or at Pratt Fine Arts Center where she is a screenprinting instructor.