On the occasion of Sea Fauna Follies, Hannah Huntleyâs site-specific installation presented by LAND at the Bob Baker Marionette Theater, I had the opportunity to visit Hannahâs studio for a conversation about her practice and how the project came to be.
I was excited to talk to Hannah, because her practice is unlike anything Iâve ever seen. I was curious about how she dreams up the worlds she realizes in her anthropomorphized objects, and how she sustains her creative practice. Turns out, as depicted in Sea Fauna Follies, she relies on those close to her to keep her going.
Read on for our extended conversation. Sea Fauna Follies is on view through September 28, 2025 during all Bob Baker Marionette Theater performances. Additional viewings are available Tuesday-Friday from 10AM-4PM, by appointment.
Laura Hyatt: Hi Hannah! Thank you for having me over to your studio today. Can you tell me a little bit about Sea Fauna Follies, and how the collaboration with Bob Baker Marionette Theater has been for you?
Hannah Huntley: Of course! Being at the theater has shown me how much work, time, and expertise goes into every little thingânot just art, but everything we see has a whole team of people that have worked so hard to put it together, especially at Bob Baker. With Sea Fauna Follies, I really wanted to emphasize that, like a performance, it takes so many people and interconnected systems to make it happen. That's why I've always been so drawn to underwater life and insect life, and these mysterious ecosystems. Though they may mirror some of our social systems and hierarchies, at times they seem to be doing it so much better than us.
LH: It feels like an apt metaphor for your work and larger practice. Iâm curious when this all started for you?
HH: I think I became an artist as a child, like a lot of children, but I never grew out of it. I grew up as a sick child, and I spent a lot of time on my own and in my imagination. A lot of my play was very still and surrounded by dolls and imaginary games. I tended to anthropomorphize everything. I call it the Toy Story-ification of my childhood, with these inanimate objects that had secret sentient lives.
LH: Were you inspired by cartoons?
HH: Oh, totally I was super into anything that took place in a fantasy world, especially if puppets were involved. The Big Comfy Couch, which had a lot of puppets, Teletubbies, I loved the idea of living underground in hobbit-like houses. Pee-wee's Playhouse was huge, and I think that was the biggest inspiration that is still with me today. I think that is where I get a lot of my impulse for anthropomorphism from. Everything in Pee Weeâs house came to life to kept him company. His entire house is alive with these different systems that all work to satiate him, please him, and keep him company, and theyâre all working simultaneously together. Also, everything in the outside world comes to him. All of his friends come to the playhouse. I think that has always been my fantasy. To be able to live a full and complete life from the comfort of my home.
That was really inspiring for me. So, I tend to anthropomorphize everything. I went through this long phase where I only played with vegetables. I would anthropomorphize eggplants and butternut squashes because I loved the shape, and I thought they looked like little babies. I'd wrap them up, and then they would eventually rot, and I would throw these little funerals for them, which I did a lot.
LH: Iâm thinking about you contending with the fragility of your own body and processing that through these little creatures of your creation.When did that evolve into a conscious art practice?
HH: I think the art practice probably started with a lot of dissociation for realities of being sick. I was very performative and imaginative as a child. I was playing therapist a lot with my best friend. We had a therapist office in the shed, and we would diagnose people. I also pretended to be a lawyer for a long time, and would defend my sister. So I'd say in childhood, my art practice was more performative than anything. I wasn't very talented artistically as a young child, that came later with a lot of learning and practice. But I think the foundation of pretend play and performance is really what started my desire for world building and making fantasy worlds and set the tone for a lot of my work.
LH: Were you acting formally as well?
HH: No, I had horrible stage fright and really horrible social anxiety. So the performative aspects of everything were always during play. And I really didn't start honing in on wanting to be a visual artist until late high school and I really wasnât particularly skilled. It started with drawing. I always drew, as any kid did, but I didnât have any formal art aspirations until much later. It's always been a lot of hard work and dedication to improving.
LH: What did you enjoy drawing?
HH: A lot of dogs, cats, and animals. I was always a huge animal person and really fascinated with animals.
LH: Did you have pets too?
HH: Oh, yeah, my parents were so wonderful. We had rats, turtles, fish, cats, dogs, and bunnies. We had a little menagerie. Animals were definitely my central focus as a child. I wanted to be a zoologist. I wanted to be Jane Goodall, and I was obsessed with Animal Planet. That's probably where most of my focus was as a child.
LH: I also really appreciate that it doesn't sound like there was a huge focus on your technical ability, which I think for a lot of people, myself included, who grew up making art, there was pressure around. I want to come back to play as the pipeline to art. When does it stop being play?
HH: I think it comes from other peopleâs doubt and skepticism that this is not something you can do for a livingâthat this is only play, or can only be a hobby. The people in my life have always pushed me to be the best I can be at whatever I decide to be, and since I decided to make art, everybody has been so unbelievably supportive. I don't know if I would even be this supportive of a child.
Like, if my child came to me and said they wanted to do the same things I was doing, I'd be like, âWell, do you have a backup plan?â I understand the doubt and trepidation, because it is a really hard and uncertain path, but I think because everyone in my life seemed to really have faith in me, I was able to have faith in myself and just keep going.
LH: By the time you get to high school, you're drawing. When youâre thinking about college, did it feel clear to you that you wanted to study art?
HH: Not really. I went into undergrad not knowing what I wanted to study. I loved art and I knew I would probably minor in it, because I just wanted to take art classes. I loved them, and that's where most of my excitement was coming from, but I had no idea what I wanted to do in undergrad. I started taking a lot of women's studies classes, and I took one art class.I decided that I was going to be a Women's Studies major and an art minor. At the time, a Womenâs Studies Major felt more practical than an art major. That would have also been impractical, but I figured I was going to teach.
I loved the Women's Studies classes, they gave me a great feminist backbone to support all of my work. But I was so in love with art, I switched my second year of college once I took my first printmaking class. I really fell in love with the workflow of printmaking. It made sense for me - the design and then execution formula of making. I was never a very loosey-goosey, or intuitive maker. I'm pretty rigid in how I plan things out and how I see things, and so the kind of vision, and then implementation of the vision was always the best kind of workflow. That mindset and workflow helped my transition to 3D printing feel very natural.
LH: That's really interesting, I hadnât thought about the transition from 2-D printmaking to 3-D printmaking.
HH: I was always attracted to sculpture. I immediately started trying to transform printmaking into sculpture. I was printing on fabric and making soft sculptures with the fabric, but I was never that great at sewing. So I was never really able to execute the thing I saw in my head, because of my skill limitations. Once I found 3D printing and 3D modeling, I was able to execute the vision that I saw in my head, because I wasn't running up against physical roadblocks. It was a lot of standing, a lot of long hours in the shop, and I would just kind of peter out after a while. The 3D modeling allowed my brain to not be limited by my physical limitations. I was able to develop these worlds and characters from my most comfortable spaces, from my bed and from the bathtub.
LH: How did you get started with 3D printing?
HH: My best friend in graduate school, Sophie Stark, was such a wizard with 3D modeling. I was watching her do things I didn't even know were possible. And she just opened this door for me. Whenever I was making objects, she would say, âWell, this would be a lot easier and work a lot better if you 3D printed it.â
LH: So it was also out of necessity?
HH: Totally out of necessity, and out of her knowing I needed to be doing this, and her pressuring me to learn and do it. I owe everything to her. She opened so many doors for me. Without her I wouldn't have been able to do any of these things. There are so many people, without whom I wouldnât be where I am at with my art practice.
LH: Okay we skipped a few steps, where did you go to undergrad?
HH: I went to the University of Nevada, Reno, and I graduated with a BFA in printmaking.
LH: And did you go straight to graduate school?
HH: No. I graduated in 2019. When I was in undergrad, I pushed myself way too hard. I opened up a small printmaking nonprofit with some of my friends, and was working two jobs, and was working really hard on my thesis. I ran my body into the ground and ended up getting really sick after undergrad. I went through a really hard health swing, and was pretty much bedridden unable to make work for almost two years. I started slowly making fiber art, because it was something I could do from bed. And then I figured out a better regimen, and got some new medication, and my health improved. Once I was healthy enough, I applied to graduate school in 2021 and began in 2022, and then graduated last year.
LH: I really appreciate you talking about that juncture, because I think there's so many people that study art in college, but then taking that next step is really scary and daunting, especially if you're dealing with health issues. It requires a tremendous amount of fortitude and passion.
HH: I also think so many people, after graduating undergrad, aren't able to continue because of the very real pressures of life and the daunting feat it is to make a âcareerâ of it. You're getting all of these external messages that it's so difficult, you're experiencing how hard and uncertain it is, and it's easy to quit. I would have been there too, if I hadn't had the outlet of grad school.
LH: How did you land at USC?
HH: I applied to exclusively Southern California schools. I moved to LA about six months before I got into grad school, fell in love with it and wanted to stay here.
LH: It's a relatively small MFA program, right?
HH: Yeah, our graduating class was seven people, so it's a very small, tight knit group. I got so blessed with a cohort that I absolutely adore, and we all bonded to each other very quickly. I've gotten so lucky at so many points in my life, and yes, itâs hard work and perseverance, but it's also a lot of being at the right place at the right time.
LH: Luck and perseverance.
HH: Yes, keeping at it and just being as consistent as possible, because you stop and you take a break and you get worse.
LH: What does that consistency look like for you?
HH: I always try to be working on something, even if I'm not working on anything conceptual. I try to make a toy or a figurine, and try to move that muscle as much as possible. A lot of times you peter out, or maybe you don't feel like you have a great idea. Just keep going. I keep doodling and making, even if it's bad, and try to get back to that point of play where Iâm excited about something. For me, the 3D modeling has been kind of like a pill of excitement, because you get a new thing on the printer every day, it's like waking up to a new toy.
Just keep making, keep pushing forward, even if it feels stupid and like it doesn't mean anything in the meantime. For example, what started Sea Fauna Follies, felt like kind of a silly, stupid whim. At the time, I thought, âI want to make these fish.â For a while I just knew I wanted to make fish. I was so busy with other projects that I just felt like this yearning to make something for myself that felt like this is just something for me. I saw this vintage tin toy of a fish car on Facebook Marketplace the same day that I saw someone make a little flotation device for a sick goldfish.
I was coming off of my graduate thesis project and I thought, âI just want to make something for me.â I was kind of reflecting on that process, and thinking about all of the people that I couldn't have done it without, and how narrowly I was able to finish that project. So the fish cars kind of started as an ode to all the people that sometimes metaphorically and sometimes literally, carried me to the next spot. The fish car was kind of something I just made on a whim. And then Bryan (Barcena) came and saw it, and he liked it.
LH: Do you have a toy collection?
HH: No, mostly just looking online. I look at Facebook Marketplace honestly, compulsively, and I'm a bit addicted to it. And I just, if I had the space, I would have a major toy collection.
LH: Are there any toys that you do have or collect that are really dear to you?
HH: Oh, yes, I do. I have a Wuv Luv which is this birthing toy, which was so inspiring to the mommy long legs piece, because it's this kind of perpetual birthing toy where it's like a Furbyâs Mother. Her chest cavity opens up and she gives birth to this little baby in an egg.
On the original packaging, it said, âMommy magically gives birth again and againâ like it was nothing. And so I thought of the horrible kind of hellscape that this toy is in, to just keep giving birth over and over again for a child's amusement. It was very inspiring to a project I did called Mommy Long Legsâ Big Break. It is a piece where a spider has to dance burlesque for her audienceâs enjoyment while her legs break off, then her legs are repaired and she is put back onto the stage to do it again, hurting herself over and over again for our amusement.
Toys are very inspiring to me, and the emotional attachment a child can have to an object is the foundation of art objects being meaningful and impactful. I think it starts with a child imprinting on objects.
LH: That joy, the feeling of being seen, and having something that is solely yours. You can project onto it everything that you're going through.
HH: Absolutely, and you can care for it, and it can be what you need it to be at that moment. I think as artists, we're kind of making what we need at that moment.
LH: I wonder how many artists actually are actually doing this, versus making what they feel they should make. How many artists really give themselves the space to make what they need?
HH: A lot of times people in the fine art world don't really understand or accept what I'm doing, or it's seen as too childish, too playful. Iâve often been asked if this is art with a capital A, or this is too kitsch, or this is low art and low brow. I hate the hierarchy that the fine art world has. That's why it was so wonderful and refreshing working with LAND in collaboration with Bob Baker Marionette Theater. The trust that you all put in me to have the freedom to do exactly what I wanted to do is something so rare and so freeing.
LH: It's something that we at LAND learn so much from artists â what is needed. For many of us at LAND, having worked in museums, weâve seen how limiting, like you're saying, this capital âAâ art world can be, in terms of what an object has to perform or function as in these sterile spaces for an arts audience. With LAND, we have this incredible freedom of not having to be limited by those constraints. I hope there can be more of that in the art world.
HH: I think also just being at Bob Baker Marionette Theater has changed my idea of what fine art is and what art is, in general. Seeing this theater as a kind of museum where all these puppets are treated as precious as the objects in an art museum. It's changing my own rigid perspective on what fine art is, what it can and cannot be. And you think, âGod, when did art get so many rules?â
LH: And who does that serve?
HH: Also I think there's a huge push for finding and creating as much joy as possible in such dismal and uncertain times. It can feel kind of crazy to do something joyful when there's so much horror and heartbreak happening in the world right now. We need the reminder of what we're fighting for and what we're trying to live for. Thatâs coming from such an intensely privileged place, even being able to think about creating something joyful and centering joy in my life and othersâ lives when there is so much devastation going on. But we all collectively need it so badly.
LH: Artists give us all permission to reengage with joy. Iâm so grateful to Mary and the team at BBMT for the generous invitation to think about artistic interventions and collaborations with them. Once we experienced your work, it felt like the perfect union. You took that invitation and were already embodying it in the work that you do.
HH: This whole project has been unbelievably energizing for me. I felt like Iâd tapped into a community that likes what I'm doing and sees it for what it is. It has reenergized me to make more. I really do want to push my world building and see where it goes.
LH: Iâm happy to hear that, because it can also be a scary time coming out of grad school, like, jumping off a kind of cliff.
HH: Yes, graduating and just being in the world the last year has been terrifying and terribly depressing. Like, âWhat did I just do? What am I doing?â This project has anchored me to hope, and has been a push to keep going. As long as artists have these little pushesâ like these emerging artist grants (LAND Mohn Grants) especially are so unbelievably needed and life-changing. Iâve been exposed to audiences that would have never found me or my work, and has helped me continue on this path and not feel like I'm in just this abyss, because that's what it can feel like.
LH: As you reflect on the project and the reception to it, what has stood out to you? Are there other things that you're just excited about?
HH: I think seeing the children's responses to my work has been the most exciting and gratifying for me, I want to keep doing work for kids. Being able to have my work seen by so many kids and how they respond to it has been unbelievably inspiring to me. It's magical.
LH: I'm thinking back to Bob Baker day at the park, where you brought some of the puppets and got to see the childrenâs faces. You were so generous with allowing direct access to the sculptures, which is such a big part of your work, too.
HH: My grandmother actually passed away a few days before Bob Baker day. I was in such a weird space, making these puppets while grieving pretty intensely. Bob Baker day took me out of that space and put me into the most beautiful, positive space I've ever been involved in. It felt like I was experiencing the cycles of life and this huge loss. Then you're surrounded by all of these kids and all of this joy.
LH: Who else would you like to thank that has helped you get to where you are?
HH: Besides my studio mate Sophie Stark that I mentioned, Sam Santoro, my partner, who's literally picked me up off the floor of our apartment after I've exhausted myself too much. I couldn't have done anything without him and my incredible parents, who really nurtured this in me for my entire life and have supported me an unmeasurable amount. All of my incredible extended family members and aunts. I have a giant family, so I have had the immense support of my parents, but also all of my aunts are some of my biggest supporters, I couldnât have done any of this without them.
LH: That's what we all need, a group of aunts rooting you on.
HH: My power crew of aunts, yes! I am so lucky to have them. Also my incredible professor and mentor at USC, Mary Kelly, who is truly one of the most magical people I've ever met in my entire life and completely changed the way I see art. She is a superhero and it was very special to get to study with her.
Sea Fauna Follies is on view through September 28, 2025 during all Bob Baker Marionette Theater performances. Additional viewings are available Tuesday-Friday from 10AM-4PM, by appointment.
Photos by Gina Clyne.