Your latest body of work consists of paintings that seek to capture the “emotional essence” of other artists’ works such as Johns' Flag, and Matisse's Red Studio, how does this differ from your previous practice? 

It's not so different in that I'm still referencing or looking to other artists but there is definitely a shift. 

In my previous work, my approach was to riff on iconic works of Modernist, Minimalist, and Pop works of art. I referred to these as revisions of MoMA's greatest hits. These earlier works merged high art with ubiquitous things from everyday culture, such as in my work titled Judd Judy where I replicated a Judd stack piece and used it as TV stand. 

​Another example would be Muebles, where I reinterpreted Allen Jones' sculptures of women wearing fetish clothing portrayed as objects / pieces of furniture. In my reworking, the "objects" are Mexican migrant workers. So, to answer part of the question, my previous work reinterpreted sacred works of Minimalism and Pop through the lens of working class Mexican-American culture. Other works dealt more specifically with the art world, the art market and institutional critique. 

​My more recent work takes a slightly different approach. While on a visit to MoMA a few years ago, I decided to go see Johns' Flag, a painting I’ve always loved and had gone to see many times. On this occasion, however, it was like I was seeing it for the first time. I was deeply moved not only by its message and its renewed relevance - considering the horrific state of today’s political affairs - but was also re-awakened and moved by the act of painting itself and Johns' gloppy encaustic surface and collaged undersurface. 

So since the Johns' epiphany, I’ve focused on all things handmade. Where most of the previous work was fabricated / manufactured by third parties, in the recent work evidence of the hand is present.

​In my latest works, my references to other artists' has also changed from being copies, riffs and send ups to being more of a loose adaptation of other artists’ styles and approaches to painting. 

​If I’m working on a painting, the subject matter will usually dictate which artists I will reference or loosely borrow from with each painting ending up stylistically different from the next. 

​I may channel Malevich’s black square (which if you see it today is cracked, crumbling and badly damaged) to address the nightmare of our recent presidential election. I may channel the “feeling” of or “in the style of …” Thornton Dial to do a painting about love and loss, Annie Albers for a painting about borders and immigration or Serra to do a work about displacement. 

​It may be Munch, Matisse and so on, depending on the “feeling” I’m searching for that would work with or against the subject matter of the painting at hand. And this “feeling” or “emotional essence” that I’m mostly adapting from another artist’s work is, for me, usually conveyed through their style. 

These newer works make use of everyday materials and found objects – doilies, sponges, buttons, hangers etc. What does this mean to you?

Freedom. And it makes me feel connected to a lineage of art and art history that I deeply love and that have always gravitated toward - namely the use of everyday objects in absurd, political, poetic and beautiful ways. 

​The use of hangers such in the repeal paintings is different. They’re actually adhered to the canvas and then (repealed) ripped off the surface. 

​If you repeal something it doesn’t just vanish but it leaves a scar. Take the Affordable Care Act, for example, if you repeal or remove it, it doesn’t just vanish without leaving a trace or without causing damage to those who rely on government healthcare programs to stay alive. 

The gold Repeal paintings to me are damaged paintings. And, to go back to your earlier question about looking to other artitsts’ works, here I was looking to Warhol’s Piss paintings to address a current crisis. 

What was your process for creating "This is not a Calder"? 

It’s a hand-dyed, hand-woven tapestry made by artisans in Guadalajara, Mexico and made in the Gobelin style of tapestry dating back to 15th century France. 

"This is not a Calder" not only appears to be an exact replica of Alexander Calder’s "Green Ball" but also cleverly plays on René Magritte's "Treachery of Images". How do you define authenticity and do you see this as a problem in the art ‘world’? 

Well it’s almost an exact copy - the scale is different from the original. How do I define authenticity? It says on the rug that it’s not a Calder, that it’s not authentic. I’m not sure why authenticity would be a problem? It’s what many artists do - borrow, sample, comment on, reference other works of art. 

What message are you conveying to the audience by adding a television or a fried egg and spatula to replicas of Donald Judd’s minimalist sculptures? 

A series of well documented studies have shown that Judd sculptures that are used as TV stands and as griddles for frying eggs have an 85% better quality of life than those in museum captivity. 

How do you feel about your own work being in private collections? 

I feel good about it because that’s how artists support themselves. 

Can you explain your process for "The Crucifixion"? 

Sure. 

How to Make a Crucifixion Painting

1. Go to dollar store 

2. Buy Crucifixion doily to use as a stencil 

3. Spray paint it on canvas. 

Yes, I suppose to some extent many of us are Warhol casualties and a Crucifixion painting is de rigueur for any self-respecting Latinx artist. 

"No Shoes, No Shirt, You’re Probably Rich", "Make Tacos Not War", and "Same Sex Divorces Inquire Within" all critically examine a broad spectrum of socio-political themes. How has neon as a medium allowed you to express these critiques effectively? 

Neon for me has a Pop art quality in the sense that neon is a form of signage used for advertising. Pop art was in a way the marriage of art, advertising and commerce. Also a neon sign seems to be the best and most direct way to get a message across. You can walk by an image and sometimes it doesn’t always compel you to stop – but a sign, you cannot not just stop and read it. 

What is the significance of language in your work? 

Well – as to why I put words in my art – take the cardboard signs for example - they require language because they reference beggars’ signs. The way I use language has specifically to do with signage as opposed to something like literature. 

You are internationally recognized for your campy and politically-driven cardboard signs that you made and sold on the streets of Manhattan in the early 2000’s. Where did this idea stem from and how did this project begin? 

In art school there are many things they don’t teach you but most importantly they don’t teach you how to make a living. When I first moved to New York, I was broke and searching for a way to pay rent, buy groceries and art supplies. I had just moved and had a stack of boxes and decided to cut them up and make signs with humorous and political sayings on them and sell them on the street for $2.00 - $5.00 each. I did end up making a little extra cash but more importantly I discovered that through these signs I was able to engage with a broad public outside of the art world. So, in a sense it was a kind of performance / artist intervention, it was a way for me to practice free enterprise, it was a way that I could sell art that everyone could afford and have (thank you Felix Gonzalez-Torres) and it was a form of cultural entertainment. 

How did passers-by react? 

Blasé. It’s New York - nothing surprises New Yorkers. Tourists however loved the signs and bought them to take home as NYC souvenirs. Really it’s a very democratic way of distributing and selling art. 

It is not uncommon for these witty statements to make the audience laugh. What role does humor and entertainment play in your practice? 

Humor is a way for me to disarm people. Humor allows me to brooch difficult issues that would otherwise immediately turn people off. Humor allows them to enter the work and engage.