In conversation with Allegra Pacheco
Where are you originally from, and how has that place shaped who you are as an artist?
Costa Rica. My parents are Cuban/Spanish on my mother’s side and Costa Rican/German on my father’s side. Costa Rica isn’t as diverse in materials—actual variety of paint, industrial clays, workshops, etc.—as many other places. That taught me to take a problem-solving approach to making art, which led me to find joy in challenge.
What early experiences or influences drew you to your art form?
My mother and grandparents were Cuban exiles on one side of the family, and German immigrants on the other. That made my world feel much bigger than merely where I was born. Being exposed to different cultures and "ways of being" made me feel that, in order to understand life and people, I needed to travel and become exposed to everything. The world felt like something I should experience as thoroughly as I could.
Because of this, I became a collector of experiences, places, and people. The things I’ve absorbed have since become my cabinet from which I pull to create—whether in the form of specific themes or even the notion that the world is a playground to discover. This expanded worldview has always kept me humble: there is always a different way of living and thinking out there. There are infinite teachers and infinite things to learn.
What drives your passion for this art form? What keeps you motivated?
Curiosity. I don’t have one single art form or fixed medium. Art is the excuse to dig deeper into something to understand it. Art is also a language of expression, often one that communicates without words and speaks in volumes, color, time, and even silence.
What's your creative process like? How do you approach new projects?
If I’m curious about something, I go fully immersive. For example, when I was really interested in contact sports, I was boxing four times a week. When I directed a documentary about overwork in Japan, I spent about seven years traveling back and forth to Tokyo. I like to go as fast and as deep as I can. The speed element is caused by a sense of urgency, because my attention span and interest toward a subject could drop off suddenly and without warning. I fall deep into my obsessions quickly, for fear of them slipping away suddenly and without warning—which inevitably happens. In my case, however, this isn’t a problem.
I don’t force myself. Since I work in a myriad of mediums, I work on whatever is pulling me at the moment. For example, I might write a script and leave it halfway until inspiration strikes again. In the meantime, I might obsess over ceramics, work on paintings, or even take the time to do nothing. By doing this, I allow whatever rises inside of me to replenish and call me back to work when my internal landscape is ready.
What are you working on right now? Can you tell me about your current projects?
In the visual field, I’m working on my ongoing series of boxer paintings and ceramic sculptures of the same subject. I just finished my first screenplay—a very scary psychological thriller set in the banana plantations of Limón, Costa Rica. I’m also about to start editing my latest documentary about hair. It delves into everything from mythology, fashion, politics, gender, and social structure. It follows the story of Rin, who held the record for having the longest hair in Japan (7’ or 220cm) and suddenly went bald from alopecia. It’s an important story of bravery, self-expression, and rebirth.
What inspires you outside of your immediate art form?
Everything. Currently, I’m looking to learn welding. I’m captivated by writing and ceramics, and I’m planning to return to contact sports after a one-year hiatus.
What message or feeling do you hope people get from your work?
That they can do whatever they want to do. Art is the excuse for collaboration, proximity, self-expression, and inquiry. Everything is allowed, so just go out and do it. It doesn’t matter if you have a style or not, or even if you don’t know what you want to say. If you do things long enough, you will find your voice. Just having consistency will create a body of work that speaks for itself. Discipline is key. And if you’re ever stuck, going toward your fears is always a great source of experiential wealth.
What's a moment in your artistic journey that really changed everything for you?
Too many to tell. Maybe moving to Hollywood at the age of 19 and living in Orson Welles’ former home. I was surrounded by much older peers who were inspiring and willing to show me the city. I think this is where I became addicted to interesting people. Since then, I’ve only wanted to surround myself with people more talented than myself. I think that has forever kept me humble and forever kept me learning.
What's something about you as an artist that might surprise people?
I try not to think about other people’s idea of me. There’s already a lot of that in being a woman and in living in a world permeated by social media. I really have no clue what would surprise people about me!
