By Jori Finkel

Diana Yesenia Alvarado, a Los Angeles-based artist making a name for herself with rough-hewn, large-scale ceramic sculptures, brings the textures and colors of East LA into her work. She draws from hand-painted murals, cartoony signs, and the weathered textures of her neighborhood buildings – as well as her own personal narratives – to create vessels with emotional resonance and comic punch.

Now, in collaboration with GOAT, she has transformed the Art Basel uniforms for Miami Beach this December, and the Hong Kong, Basel, and Paris shows in 2025, infusing them with magical animal motifs, bold outlines, and other signature elements of her visual language. She centered these designs on a whimsical cat character, a symbol of curiosity and openness, strolling with a bouquet of flowers, evoking resilience, beauty, and creativity.

In this interview, Alvarado reflects on her creative trajectory, the inspirations behind her imagery, and how she translated her sculptural practice into wearable forms, all the while honoring the cultural influences that have shaped her.

You live in LA but you’re currently in Guadalajara, Mexico. What took you there?

Last year, José Noé Suro from Cerámica Suro invited me to participate in a residency here. Its factory primarily produces functional ceramics, but they also invite artists to collaborate and experiment in their facilities. After the residency, I set up a small studio in Guadalajara and have been returning often. It’s been a great place that has allowed me the focus and freedom to push my work further.

How does the street culture of LA show up in your work?

Growing up on the Eastside of LA, I’ve always been drawn to the natural landscape, murals, hand-painted signs, and rich colors. There’s something about how architecture and nature weather over time that stays with me. Those elements are part of who I am and surface in my work, not through direct replication but by letting those influences come in through the textures and layers I create.

You’ve talked about the recuerdos – souvenirs – that your father, who is Mexican, used to bring home when you were a kid. Can you tell me more about them and why they resonated with you?

The word recuerdo translates as ‘memory’, and that concept has always fascinated me. What gives an object the power to hold a memory? I didn’t grow up with artists or anyone speaking the language of art to me. My early influences were simply the objects at home. My dad often traveled, bringing back trinkets and small sculptures. At my grandmother’s house, it was similar – there were little things everywhere, from a glass cup to a handmade doll. These objects carried stories and felt alive. Those everyday items became my first connection to art.

You studied at California State University Long Beach, where Tony Marsh has run an incredible ceramics program for many years. How did that come about?

I was in community college taking my general requirements and working on the prep team at the Broad Museum. Each morning, I’d help bring the museum to life, turning on the lights, dusting the Kusama ‘Infinity Mirrors’,  and touching up scuffs on the walls. I loved those quiet moments in the building before it opened, with just a few coworkers. Someone on my team also worked with clay, and they shared what they knew about the Cal State Long Beach ceramics program and Tony Marsh, who is an incredible educator. Everything aligned, and I eventually applied to the program and pursued a degree in ceramics there.

The Magdalena Suarez Frimkess show at LACMA includes her handmade, sometimes rough versions of Disney characters. I see a similar celebration of the hand and the handmade in your work. Do you see a connection?

I’m a big fan of Magdalena Suarez Frimkess. Through my friend, the artist Ryan Preciado, I had the chance to visit her at her home in Venice Beach. We spent an afternoon together. She’s amazing – so active in her practice, with pieces scattered everywhere in her space. She even gifted me one of the first pieces in my collection: a small cup that fits in the palm of my hand. I remember driving home with it in my hands, just holding it like a treasure – probably not the safest thing to do.

Your sense of scale is very different, though, from Frimkess and most ceramic artists. Haven’t you made sculptures as large as five feet tall?

I enjoy working in both large and small formats. The first exhibitions I was in featured all palm-sized works and then, fast forward to my first solo show, [‘Earth Wish’ at Jeffrey Deitch, 2023], I challenged myself to go big, feeling drawn to explore the space and impact of a larger piece, which requires a different engagement from the body. I created my largest sculpture to date, around five to six feet tall. It’s a vessel with three intertwined forms: one resembling a rabbit, another more catlike, and a third that’s harder to describe – almost like something you’d find underwater.

How much does something like that weigh?

I’d guess around 500 pounds, but I’m not entirely sure. We went through several boxes of clay.

Can you fire a sculpture that large in a kiln, or did you have to make it in pieces?

It’s all one piece, built by hand using the coil method. Thankfully, Cal State Long Beach can facilitate large-scale works. Their ceramics technician, Joe, developed a device that allows us to wrap a strap around the base and gently guide it into the kiln. We eased it in, slowly and carefully, little by little, until it was entirely inside.

There’s a rich history in the Americas of ceramics being used as vessels to carry food and other essentials, but your work leans more toward narrative and storytelling.

The ceramic vessel isn’t just about physical space – it holds emotion and cultural memory. Though visually distinct, my work conceptually aligns with those long-standing traditions of function and meaning in ceramics.

And what do you mean by ‘cultural memory’?

Each piece carries a unique energy, shaped by the thoughts, people, or moments I want to honor as I create. I’ve made vessels that memorialize friends or capture moments I want to hold onto. Coil building feels like a ritual; it’s a repetitive and grounding act connecting me to a powerful, ancient tradition.

You designed the new Art Basel uniforms in collaboration with GOAT, and they have a playful energy. How would you describe your vision for the project?

I love creating mystical and surreal creatures, so for this project, it felt natural to bring a similar approach to the uniforms. I started drafting various forms and landed on a catlike character [for the jacket], holding a vibrant bouquet of flowers, and appearing to wander. I researched flower symbolism, focusing on resilience, beauty, grace, and renewal. These are all qualities I wanted to infuse into the uniform. I took a similar approach for the polo shirt, designing a leaping figure with a floral profile on its back. I chose an abstract representation of my color studies for the tote bag. They’re playful characters full of curiosity, and I wanted to bring this sensation to the uniform.

When I picture your work, claws come to mind. Do you have a soft spot for claws?

I really enjoy working on details. They’re moments that invite someone to come in closer and engage with the work. The paws are an opportunity for me to experiment and change the form’s presence. A big paw or delicate foot changes that shape’s essence and energy. It’s not my main focus but a space where I play with the form.

Have you ever designed clothes before?

No, but it’s something I’ve always wanted to explore. When I was approached to participate, I was beyond excited.