The Ways We Stay Alive, On Lisu Vega’s Textile Installations
with commentary from Fabiola R. Delgado, curator of “Tactics for Remembering”
Lisu Vega at work in The Frank C. Ortis Gallery at Pembroke Pines. Photograph by Juan Henriquez.
Lisu Vega is a multi-disciplinary artist whose “La Raiz Que Abraza Tu Casa”/ “The Tree of My Memories, The House of Her Memories” series created waves at the 2025 Florida Prize in Contemporary Art. She works with a myriad of media such as engraving, photography, fiber art, sculpture, installation, and fashion. Clothes and apparel she designed have graced the pages of Vogue Mexico and L’Officiel. Vega was born in Miami, Florida in 1980, and was raised in Maracaibo, Venezuela. Her childhood in Maracaibo and the time spent with her grandparents populates the imagery of her artworks which explores the idea of sustainability, migration, memory, and identity. There is resilience in her works, too, which features photographs projected or imprinted on tactile and knotted fabrics.
To spend time with Vega’s textile installations is to see memories and personal stories made real. Fabiola R. Delgado, the curator of “Tactics for Remembering” at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Arlington, Virginia where Vega’s “The Uncertain Future of Absence” (a textile-video installation created in collaboration with fellow artist Carlos Pedreañez), remarks that “The objects we hold onto carry the meanings we give them. So when forced to leave things behind, due to violence, migration, etc., their significance lingers like a ghost”. Delgado adds that remembrance is not only mental or emotional, it is also profoundly physical. Vega lives and works in Miami.
I had a brief conversation with Vega regarding her art, her heritage and family, followed by an exchange with curator Fabiola R. Delgado, and a look at what is next for Vega’s artistic career.
Lisu Vega, in collaboration with Carlos Pedreanez. "The Uncertain Future of Absence", 2025. From "Tactics for Remembering" curated by Fabiola R. Delgado at the Museum of Contemporary Art, Arlington, Virginia. Photograph by Fabiola R. Delgado. The show is on view until January 25, 2026.
Zeny Recidoro-Fesh: How did you meet or learn about Lisu Vega? What was your first impression of her work?
Fabiola R. Delgado: I learned about Lisu in January 2024. We both had exhibitions opening in New York at the same time (I had curated Build what we hate. Destroy what we love. at apexart; and she has a duo show with Juan Henríquez at Kates-Ferri Projects, titled Territorio Visceral). My exhibit featured a group of Venezuelan artists, and several people mentioned there was another show by Venezuelan artists less than 2 miles away. It seemed orchestrated, but it was a serendipitous encounter. Like ships in the night, we went to each other's exhibits, and missed meeting each other in person, so we first met through our work. I was immediately struck by the emotional toll of Lisu's work. I remember two photographs –a right and a left hand– printed on textured fabric, with ropes extending from the fingers like roots. They were clearly the hands of an older person, but the way the surface was composed, with patterns and intense stitching, amplified whatever story she was telling. The skin was a landscape. The hands felt like eyes, and the white threadings like tears. (The piece is called Memoria Perdida, left & right hand –– I later learned these were Lisu's grandma's hands). Lisu's works were touching and nostalgic, but also comforting. Like she was trying to mend the ache of loss and distance.
Though we didn't meet in person then, we quickly connected through social media, then text messages, then virtual studio visits that became regular phone calls. She jokes that she "messed up" our first studio visit because she didn't show me any art; we just talked. But that's exactly what made it so beautiful! We connected over our shared background and familiar histories: born in the same city (de Cabimas para el mundo!), grew up surrounded by strong women, we even share the same indigenous roots (Wayúu). It didn't take long to grow our bond, and it's been a real gift to know Lisu not only as an artist, but as a person, and a "cousin".
ZRF: Tactics for Remembering is a show about migration, political rupture/rapture, and Cuban-Venezuelan cultural relations. We live in an extremely stressful time in history and it's interesting to me that we are specifically looking at Vega's work with fabrics and home, things that feel comforting, like an embrace, and in many cultures including mine (Philippines) wrapping someone in a blanket is a gesture of love and belonging. At the same time, blankets also have a very loaded meaning in Native American History. So it's also interesting that the word tactics is used because, though etymologically unrelated, it shares the core concept of the root word "tac" or "tag" which is touch, with the word tactile which is related or often used to describe fabric or textile arts. The show seems to express both a sense of relief and combat, or somebody who has very firm boundaries, is tough but is actually full of warmth and tenderness. I would like to know what you think about these confluences of meaning.
FRD: I love how you're interpreting the notion of tactics. There's definitely an energy of comfort, combat, and everything in between. In Lisu's work, particularly, fabric becomes both a site of healing and resistance, but also of departure and return.
Lisu Vega. "La Raíz Que Abraza Tu Casa: The House of Her Memories” series, 2025. From the Florida Prize in Contemporary Art, curated by Coralie Claeysen-Gleyzon. Photograph by Zaire Aranguren.
Zeny Recidoro-Fesh: The House of Her Memories was inspired by memories, specifically those of your grandmother, Dilia Rosa Arteaga de Bermúdez. I’m interested in how the images of her home resonated in your textile installation. There’s something very acoustic about your work, and the poem that accompanied your installation at the Orlando Museum of Art contains these two beautiful lines: “If the music stops / the house keeps sounding.” In my home country, the Philippines, women often sing or chant while weaving. Sound—music, singing, and the rhythm of the loom—is an important part of the weaving process. I was wondering if there are similar elements in your Wayuu culture.
Lisu Vega: My grandmother had a radio where all kinds of music played while she sewed. In our countries, the radio is part of daily life. My grandfather also played his music. The truth is, that part of the poem reflects a childhood memory—when I used to visit them at their house. It was a house filled with sound: there was music in the front, and music in the back. In Latin culture, we love to clean, sew, and cook with music.
Images 1-2 Rope Editorial. Photograph by Elvis de Rivero (Gato Rivero). Model: Evangeli Anteros. Make-Up Artist: Hugo Quinonez.
ZRF: Your work as a textile artist has also entered the world of wearable art and haute couture. What was that process like? Was it something you pursued from the beginning, or did it happen naturally?
LV: It happened completely organically. I used to sew with my grandmother when I was little, and that connection with materials and handmade work has always been present in my practice. My main working materials are ropes and fabrics; I recycle and reuse to create new pieces. Both the textile works and the garments are deeply intertwined—one supports the other.
When I create a garment, I always think of it as a sculpture that molds the body. They are almost always one-of-a-kind pieces, made as if they were living works of art. In many cases, I start by weaving with colored ropes to build the outer layer, and then I use white ropes for the interior, which I call “the soul,” because they bring that silky and ethereal movement that I love to work with by hand.
Sustainability is a fundamental pillar in both disciplines. For me, there’s no clear division between art and fashion—it’s all part of the same material language expressed through textiles.
ZRF: Weaving has always been associated with memory, the repetition of patterns, and communication, and your works carry a strong desire to remember stories—both personal and collective. What message would you like to leave for future generations?
LV: To stay alert and open to the gifts that the environment around us offers.
Images 1-2 Lisu Vega. "Lo Que Me Habita" / "That Which Inhabits Me", 2025. A solo exhibition at The Frank C. Ortis Gallery at Pembroke Pines, curated by Sophie Bonet. Photograph by Lisu Vega.
ZRF: What’s next for Lisu Vega?
LV: What’s next is to showcase the garments I’ve been developing for the past three years non-stop. On October 16, 2025, I presented my latest work at The Frank Gallery, inspired by a deep investigation into my ancestors and a new discovery of practices that are not only installation- based but also textile, video, and oxidation-based. The curatorship was led by Sophie Bonet. Additionally, my work is currently exhibited at the MOCA Museum of Contemporary Art in Arlington, Virginia, in the exhibition Global Spotlight: Tactics of Remembering, curated by Fabiola Delgado. This work explores sculptural textiles and video installation in collaboration with Carlos Pedreañez. In 2026, I am one of the artists selected by the South Florida Cultural Consortium, with an exhibition at MOCA in the spring. And in June 2026, I will have a solo exhibition at the Coral Springs Museum◾
Published November 14, 2025 by Women in the Arts, Inc.