Aliyah Sidqe, a mentee of the artist and activist Milton Bowens, uses her paintings to uplift the community.
Laurelin Gilmore weaves zodiac and earthy elements to show the connectivity humans have to nature.
Lindsay Swearingen was introduced to needle and thread at 8 years old, when her mother taught her how to cross-stitch. She was young and didn’t stick with it, but “about eight years ago, I picked it back up around when there was a resurgence of embroidery and fiber art,” she says.
Mentored by Ricardo Favela of the Royal Chicano Air Force artist collective, Manuel Fernando Rios describes his artwork as “neo-Expressionist, neo-Chicano, mixed in with pop culture.” His solo show scheduled for May has been postponed because of the coronavirus pandemic, but he is continuing to make new work.
Cole uses mixed media — watercolor, gouache, colored pencils and vinyl paint — to create vulnerable, delicate and harsh portraits that reflect the way women are viewed in art and society and how the artist digests it all.
“If you had told me 30 years ago I would be a professional photographer, I’d be professionally working with dogs, I would have laughed,” Halbert says. “Now that I’m here, this is the only place I should be.”
If you have been to Sacramento in the past few decades, there is a good chance you have encountered artwork by Stephanie Taylor.
Belonging to two places and not quite fitting into either is a familiar feeling for many first-generation Americans.
Julie Clements worked for 15 years as a veterinarian technician in Alaska, the Monterey Bay Aquarium and the San Francisco Zoo before moving to Sacramento to be a full-time ceramic fine artist.
Because of some bold moves on his part and the exposure and connectivity that social media provides, Brandon Gastinell has transitioned from doing street art to work for major film studios and musicians.