maggie hewitt

Maggie Hewitt works with artists to bring their technically and materially complex works to life. In this conversation, we talk about what it means to work in art fabrication, the unique dynamic between artist and fabricator, and the notion of collaboration. 

I hope you enjoy our conversation. It has been edited and condensed for clarity.

Artwork photos courtesy of the artist; artist portrait courtesy of Hannah Cash

This interview is different from the others in the series because you work in a realm of the arts that is less known to the public. It’s also why I’m so excited to talk to you. You are an art fabricator working both on personal projects and for Urban Art Projects (UAP), which is based just north of New York City. What does it mean to work in art fabrication?

I define it as having the knowledge of materiality, process, and building, and using that to guide and help an artist bring a concept through fruition. You have to put yourself in the artist’s shoes to some degree: understand the ideas behind their work and what they’re trying to achieve. There’s another side to it that’s very practical: what sort of scale do they want to work in, what material lends itself to that scale, and what can we do within the budget provided. So it’s this balancing act of thinking theoretically about the artist’s work and practice while also being that practical voice that gives them direction to make something that works within their scale, budget, and timeline.

In regards to UAP, are artists coming to the company because they are producing something significantly large for outdoors?

Yes and no, scale definitely plays a large role but also we work with a lot of artists that do not have the resources to create this kind of work. We also help many artists transition into the world of three dimensions, helping them apply their current art practice in a different way.

But it is often artworks for outdoors, not just scale, correct?

Yes! We do a lot of work on public pieces so that lends itself to artwork that will have a life outside, whether it’s temporary or permanent. Bronze is an extremely strong and durable material—lending itself to outdoor environments. Bronze casting holds up in various climates and is not quickly affected by the elements. We also provide coatings that can be applied for certain outdoor conditions. We also cast aluminum, iron, and brass, but bronze is our bread and butter. The craft of bronze-casting is so specific and requires such a vast amount of knowledge, skill, space, and resources.

Without going into too many details, can you explain what bronze casting entails?

There are basically two main processes for casting: sand casting and lost-wax casting. Whether you do sand or lost wax is dependent on size, detail, and form complexity. Yayoi Kusama’s pumpkin sculptures really lend themselves to sand casting because they’re very large forms with smooth, big surfaces that don’t have a lot of detail. We use lost-wax casting, for example, on Thomas J. Price’s figures, which are detailed down to the little baby hairs on the forehead. You’d never capture that with sand casting.

The sand casting process consists of creating an imprint of the desired form in a bed of sand which is then filled with molten bronze. Once hardened, those bronze pieces are removed from the sand bed and can be configured into the final piece by welding and finishing.

In lost-wax casting, a plastic pmma 3D-printed form is covered in wax, followed by multiple layers of ceramic shell or investment material. Once the shell dries, the wax is burned out to create the negative shape of the desired object. The molten bronze is then poured into the negative cavity to create the work, once hardened it is removed and cleaned.

And what does finishing entail?

In finishing, they address the surface condition of the work. When an artwork is cast, it doesn’t come out of the mold super clean. Often repairs need to be made. During finishing, patches are made to cover casting mishaps, seams are cleaned up, surfaces are buffed and polished to the desired effect, prepping the surface for further paint or patina. Surface finishes can range from a more “natural,” gritty surface to a high polish—some pieces incorporate both.

Wow, that sounds incredible and quite complex. It’s hard to visualize but I think I get it. Do you personally do casting?

I don’t regularly do casting work; I lead all of the design-assist projects that come through the foundry. When I started here, I had never done casting before, I didn’t have much experience with metals at all. My experience was so niche working with artists and friends on a generally much smaller scale. But since being at UAP the last four years I have learned the casting process and, although I am not active on the floor, I feel my knowledge of casting allows me to prepare artworks for successful manufacturing.

And what is design-assist, for the layperson?

Generally speaking it’s a collaboration between myself and an artist, where I help to guide them in terms of the production process for their artwork. Sometimes an artist will come to us with very general ideas but they have funding or a commission and want to work with us to ideate. Or someone comes to us with a fully fleshed out concept but needs guidance in terms of how to fabricate, which materials to use, how to engineer the piece, what scale fits the budget and so on.

Can you walk me through a project you’re currently working on? How does it start?

It starts usually with a conversation. We have to make sure that our personalities work well together. It’s a large amount of trust that the artist is putting into me, for example, so both parties have to feel comfortable. Understanding how an artist works, knowing the artist’s studio practice and their history is important to the process. I might listen to their talks, do a studio visit, have the studio assistants explain exactly how they make the works.

This one artist, Diana al-Hadid, came to us with ideas of wanting to do an architectural element, to use the Ziggurat of Ur, to do some sort of deterioration, to incorporate cast. She has a very limited budget for the size and scale of the piece. We went through probably four different iterations before we landed on what she was happy with.

So, it really comes into being—

It came into being in her mind and in her studio, but we make it a reality, something tactile, we give it scale. Everything started as a two-dimensional sketch or an image on the computer.

What are you thinking about as you work with an artist who has never worked in this way?

Sometimes it can be very hard for someone to transfer their physical practice and aesthetic into a digital format. With Diana, it was almost impossible for me to replicate her work style in digital, and we decided that some elements will be implemented during fabrication. We ended up leaving empty spaces in the model for her to do her own drips in her studio that we would cast directly from. She has more of a hand in the work than it being completely digital or me making patterns in the 3D-modeling software, printing them, and getting them cast.

For some artists, it’s their first move into three dimensions. Another recent artist I worked with had only worked two dimensionally, painting and drawing. She initially came in only with some sketches. But we worked closely with her to translate. We extracted ideas, textures, forms, and colors from her paintings and had her sculpting by hand, with us. We did a lot of digital sculpting in three dimensions: taking her hand sculptures, creating them in digital, and having her sit next to us giving input while we 3D model.

I can definitely understand how this can be a real challenge for an artist whose handiwork is so essential.

This is a permanent piece. You can’t have gypsum on the roof of a museum. Its lifespan is so short.

We also tried some new things with Diana. We used augmented reality, which I’d never used in concept development. It’s basically projecting my 3D model into a reality for the artist to see, which has been incredible. Through goggles, she was able to see her piece at full scale and walk through it and around it. You can’t ever understand the scale of things from looking at a screen.

What are some of the challenges you often face in the process?

It’s so hard to foresee what issues could go wrong. Sometimes castings come out bad. It can’t be totally avoided. There was something strange in the metal, one little thing off about how they mixed the sand, or the heat got a little too high when pouring. It’s such a complex and detailed process there are many steps along the way. We’re also always working with crazy timelines, trying to be the most efficient but also hit as close to perfection as possible. Also keeping some distance from the work can be hard, understanding that everyone makes mistakes, but knowing that a mistake of yours in digital design can affect ten people down the line over the course of the making, can be difficult to swallow.

Can we talk more about this relationship between you and the artist(s)?

At first, it was a strange phenomenon that I would collaborate on the design of work and not get credit. I’m sure it goes both ways, meaning whoever I happen to be working with has to relinquish some control of their process which I am sure is not easy. They’re leaving something in my hands to create and it’s going to have their name on it ultimately. Working for one artist, in my first few jobs, was difficult for me. I don’t think I had the ability to take criticism when the work I was doing felt so personal. At this point in my career I enjoy being in the background.

How do you think you were able to shift the way you felt about that?

It was transitioning to a smaller scale and taking a step back from a mid-sized art firm. While living in Berlin, I started working with a lot of my friends who were artists. Working one-on-one, we would work side by side on the computer together. They would sketch, I would model, they would share their hopes for the work, and I would give input on materials and fabrication strategies. I realized my passion was to help people create. Ultimately, it’s their idea and concept from the start. If art is about the idea, then I’m not a part of that process, I’m just a part of conceptualizing that idea into reality. You can call it a collaboration, some of it is just production.

But actually in those settings, you are part of the ideating.

That’s true. Maybe because I was doing it only for friends, people I had a previous relationship with that it always felt mutually respectful and complimentary in our thought processes. They were not just my employers.

You enable artists, on either scale, to create their vision.

Not being what you would call a practicing artist, it’s a way for me to use my creativity while still maintaining some rules and structure around my work, which is something my brain needs. It also allows me to work with so many different kinds of people and to learn so much about the art world. When someone comes to me with sketches or ideas or they want something to be this color or this material, I find that the most interesting part—trying to make that work in the real world, with the existing constraints.

What does that look like with a friend? Do you still work on projects with artists outside of UAP?

I do, not as much. With my friend Jenna Sutela, we did a series of these mazes for slime mold while I was still living in Berlin. She would send images, patterns, and a moodboard of sorts for how she envisioned this labyrinth. I would bring all of that information into the digital world and see what I could come up with. Once we landed on a design, we would machine carve the ‘maze’ into a piece of plexiglass. Jenna would then delicately insert the slime mold, watching it find its way from one end to the other.

And do you have your own art practice?

I wouldn’t say I have a regular one; I go through phases. A lot of the things I want to create I have to do digitally but when I am not at work I’m actively trying to be away from the computer. In the last few years, I have tried to get back into technical, architectural drawing. I’ve always wanted to design and build a sauna. It was spurred from seeing these little huts by Isa Genzken when I was in Berlin and frequenting saunas at that time. I don’t know if it’s a reality by any means but it’s fun! I also have definitely drawn out my future dream home.

I imagine working with artworks in such a specific and technical way has changed your relationship to engaging with and seeing art.

I now immediately think, how did they make that? I went to Storm King and saw Arlene Shechet pieces. I was looking at the welds, how they chased and finished them. I was looking at a Carol Bove piece and thinking about how you can’t see any seams and the way she is able to bend and smash metal so cleanly is amazing! I have a new appreciation for the craft of making, particularly in the realm of metals. The inherent qualities of these materials are not meant to do that. Understanding the process of how to use materials in a different capacity—and then seeing that out in the world is probably the biggest thing that’s changed for me. 

It’s also the proximity of having the artist in the workshop talking about their work. When I walk into a gallery I’m not going to have the backstory of everything but I know the potential of what it could be.

Has this shifted the artists or artworks you seek to work with? 

Maybe both. Through all of my work and experience, I definitely feel I have so much more knowledge and experience to offer an artist. If I work outside of my job, I’m going to seek artists whose work pushes my capabilities or forces me to learn new things. It also has to be work that I like. Outside of my job I don’t have time to work on anything I am not excited about. 

Part of this interview series is that I’m asking each artist to direct me to the next. So, who is an artist working today that you are intrigued by, and what is it about their practice you’re intrigued by?

Aviva Silverman is someone that I’ve been working with for over five years. I have been doing work with them for so long and their work is so beautiful. One of my favorites works we did together was a sound piece for the Park Avenue Armory, through the NYC Trans Oral History Project. They wanted a series of shell-like elements hanging from the ceiling with built-in headphones looping various interviews from the archive. The viewer would hold this shell-like object up to their ear and listen for as long as desired. They’re someone who collects really special, unique, strange objects. One of these precious collectibles is what I based the design for the headphone encasement on. I scanned it, remodeled it, created the joinery system, and printed a few 3D samples. I then got to help lay out how these were going to hang, what the pattern and length would be. They are able to create these other worlds within our reality that are so expressive yet symbolic of both pleasure and devastation at the same time. I’ll never say no to doing projects like that for a friend.

Published February 17, 2025