San Antonio-based contemporary artist Anita Becerra navigates the intersections of personal history and collective struggle, cementing herself as an important voice in the modern discourse on power and identity. Drawing deeply from her Honduran-American heritage, Becerra’s practice boldly confronts systemic patriarchal oppression, weaving together a complex tapestry of themes that include feminism, immigration, agricultural corruption, religious trauma, and body autonomy.
We recently joined Becerra to discuss the evolution of her creative process, to discover how she channels her personal reflections into her powerful conceptual work, and to preview the critical new themes she envisions for her future pieces.
MiSA: Your work masterfully weaves together complex themes like feminism, immigration, and your Honduran-American identity. How do you navigate the delicate balance between expressing your specific personal experiences and addressing the collective struggles against patriarchal oppression in your art?
Becerra: I often think about the #MeToo movement and the moment when you realize, “It can’t just be me.” That sense of shared experience is powerful. When Roe v. Wade was overturned, I felt a deep sense of hopelessness, especially as a mother to a teenage daughter. It was personal, but I also knew that many others were feeling the same grief and fear. I didn’t know what to do with those emotions, so I began making. I created a uterus-shaped vase as a way to process that loss of autonomy. The piece resonated deeply with people. I raffled it to raise funds for a local reproductive justice organization, and the winner later gifted it to a midwife whose life’s work centers on reproductive care and advocacy. That felt like a full-circle moment. I’ve learned that when I feel inspired to create, it’s not just about me. I hope my work helps bring healing, reclamation, and a reminder that our bodies and stories matter.
MiSA: Your solo exhibition Overripe was not only acquired by ART Museum TX but also celebrated as the "Best of Contemporary Art Month" in 2020. Looking back, how do you feel that particular body of work shifted the conversation regarding the reclamation of narratives around body autonomy?
With Overripe, I first thought I was finished working with the banana form. The show examined how power is wielded in politics, religion, and agriculture. But as I worked, I noticed a shape in a banana chain that felt clearly yonic. That discovery led me to think more about shame and bodily autonomy. By Their Fruits Ye Shall Know Them became like a second chapter to Overripe. It focused more closely on how morality defines what is “good” or “sinful,” and who gets protected or punished. I started to look at how institutions take away autonomy through shame and control, especially over women’s bodies, and what it means to reclaim that autonomy. Looking back, I don’t think the shift was about giving answers. It was about showing how power works and questioning the moral frameworks we’ve inherited.
MiSA: In 2024, you unveiled your first public sculpture at The Creamery along the San Antonio River. How did the challenge of creating a permanent work that reflects the community's history and environment differ from your approach to gallery-based abstract or conceptual pieces?
Becerra: The Creamery project was an exciting challenge. A fellow artist jokingly asked if I was going to make a giant banana, and for me, that question gave me some clarity. I wanted to stretch beyond my established forms and even beyond clay itself. I’ve always loved architecture and interior design, and I frequently collaborate with designers to create site-specific works. This project felt like a marriage between my conceptual practice and my love for design. I was deeply inspired by the Borden building’s Art Deco façade and by the movement of the San Antonio River. Art Deco historically borrowed from ancient Mayan architecture, which also resonates with my Honduran heritage. I wanted to weave those architectural and cultural references together into a piece that reflected both history and renewal. Making a permanent sculpture made me consider things like durability, how people would interact with it, and what it would mean to the community, things I don’t usually think about with gallery work. It challenged me both technically and creatively, and the finished piece feels unique, connected to its location, and full of new beginnings.
MiSA: You spend time teaching ceramics to help others find their creative voice. How does this hands-on engagement with the community inform your own sculptural techniques and your relationship with clay as a medium?
Becerra: Learning something new is inherently vulnerable, and I try to hold space for that vulnerability in my classroom. Clay itself is very grounding, and it demands presence and patience, so it becomes a beautiful medium for exploration.
When I teach, I find myself playing with clay more freely. That sense of play has helped me reconnect with the material. When art becomes your job, it can sometimes feel more like pressure than joy. Teaching brings me back to the curiosity and experimentation that made me love clay in the first place. Watching others find their own voice and creativity reminds me why I started doing this work.
MiSA: You collaborate with nonprofits to provide children a safe space for expression. Does witnessing the raw, unfiltered creativity of children influence how you approach the themes of healing and consent in your own professional work?
Becerra: Absolutely. Clay is naturally healing, and so is self-expression. There are fewer places where people, especially children, can express themselves without being judged. Every time I lead a workshop and see that openness, it makes me want to keep creating spaces that focus on access and safety. Working together and caring for each other and the material shapes how I think about consent, power, and agency in my own studio practice.
MiSA: As a San Antonio-based artist, how does the cultural landscape of the city influence your perspective on immigration and identity, and does this geography play a specific role in your choice of materials or aesthetics?
Becerra: San Antonio has its own distinct culture, which I’ve completely embraced and love to explore. We are an immigrant city, and it is what makes this city so vibrant and rich. Living here reminds me that identity is shaped by our connection to place, history, and community. This year, I’ve worked with the Charles Roundtree Bloom Project, started by Ki’Amber Thompson. We’ve partnered with people affected by incarceration, immigration detention, policing, and systemic violence. Our ceramics classes focus on healing, accessibility, and shared ownership, challenging the traditional barriers and lack of diversity in ceramics. The pieces made in these sessions will become part of a group sculpture shown at the Carver Community Cultural Center this Fall. We funded this project with a San Antonio artist grant. Being here keeps reminding me that identity is tied to our place, history, and community.
MiSA: A central pillar of your work is the exploration of body autonomy and consent. In our current cultural climate, how do you hope your work acts as a catalyst for viewers to re-examine their own understandings of power and agency?
Becerra: I explored this in my recent sculpture, Toxic Traits. The piece looks at how corporate and institutional power can exploit people, governments, and land for profit and control. While making it, I started asking myself how I might also be part of harmful systems, whether I realize it or not. What do I consciously or unconsciously give consent to? I think part of taking power back is first recognizing where it's being taken.
MiSA: You have successfully navigated both teaching and community engagement to museum acquisitions and public installations, always with the goal of creating spaces for dialogue on autonomy and power. As you look forward, are there new mediums or under-discussed social themes you are eager to bring into this ongoing conversation?
Becerra: I like that you called it an ongoing conversation, because that’s how I see my work too. My goal is to create space for reflection and dialogue, especially about topics that are often surrounded by shame or silence. Lately, I’ve started to explore motherhood in my art. It’s something I’ve kept private for a long time. For me, motherhood has been both beautiful and very isolating, sometimes even dark in ways we rarely talk about. I’m interested in taboo subjects, especially those that question the usual stories about womanhood.
In the future, I want to keep exploring these ideas and look at autonomy, power, and identity through the experience of motherhood. I don’t want to focus on the sentimental side people might expect, but instead show its full complexity.
For more information on Anita Becerra's work, visit her website and follow her on Instagram.