Fernanda Uribe-Horta’s earliest memories of her childhood in Tijuana, Mexico are of her grandfather teaching her to garden. Her nickname was “jungle baby,” earned for her barefoot escapades in the wild. In her artwork today, a ceramic sun shines as ceramic faces of snakes, toucans, jaguars and reptiles stare out at you from a background of leaves and vines.
Uribe-Horta recalls sneaking into her parents’ closet to graffiti the walls at age 5, filling the hidden space with flowers, suns and gardens. She would then proudly sign her name. It was worth later getting caught and scolded.
Now 38, Uribe-Horta regularly travels to rainforests and jungles, which she says are a deep source of both sanity and inspiration. They fuel her multimedia work and the painting and ceramics classes she teaches at her studio in Greenpoint.
Through her classes, collaborations and events, Uribe-Horta revels in seeing students “put their hands in the clay, or painting, and how, just for two hours, their brains and their worries turn off,” she said.
A love of art and more
By the time she was 8, Uribe-Horta was already exhibiting in local galleries and studying under some of Mexico’s most respected painters. But her path was never confined to fine art. At 16, her love of dance brought her to Cuba for a summer of intensive training. Soon after, she joined an exchange program in Germany, where she taught and performed salsa professionally. Later, in France, she came to realize that while she loved performing, dance would take too great a toll on her body. Painting offered a career that wouldn’t end when she was 35 or 40.
She committed fully to visual art when she moved to Milan, where she earned both her bachelor’s and master’s degrees in fine arts. During the near decade she lived in Italy, showing her art in experimental group exhibitions, residencies and later in design fairs.
A semester abroad during graduate school brought her to New York in 2011. She also wanted to be near her Italian partner, now husband, who had been transferred here for work. Uribe-Horta fell in love with the city. By the time she finished her degree, she saw the end of her housing and gallery contracts and visa as signs: It was time for a blank canvas for her next life chapter. She moved back to the city for good in 2013.
Turning to ceramics
Like many artists, Uribe-Horta made it in New York by waitressing. It supported her painting, photography and other practices as a working artist.
She settled in Williamsburg, and her daily walk from the train station to her job at La Esquina restaurant in Soho took her past a ceramics studio. She would see beautiful pieces but couldn’t afford them. One day she decided she’d try her hand at making them.
In Uribe-Horta’s homeland, the essence of ceramics making is ingrained in the culture: Her mother would give her children cornmeal to mix with water and use as a kind of Play-Doh.
Uribe-Horta’s boss at Esquina was the first to support her in this new art form. The boss commissioned plates for herself, then as gifts for friends and for dinner with a visiting chef. Selling these pieces to friends and family gave Uribe-Horta confidence to approach stores. Her work was picked up by a few shops, including Mociun in Williamsburg and The Hunt NYC on Canal Street.
Later, a design store in Mexico started carrying her pieces, and she was invited to showcase her work in L.A. Design Week, Mexico City Design Week and beyond. The experiences positioned her at the intersection of art and design, blending ceramics, painting, installations and multimedia work.
Abroad and at home
Meanwhile, residencies abroad expanded her practice. In eastern India, for instance, she painted saris, sculpted wood, crafted murals with kids and studied traditional techniques.
Still, no matter how exotic her travels, Uribe-Horta’s deepest inspiration was still planted in her past and her hometown: memories of planting papaya seeds in her grandfather’s garden, walks by the beach with her grandmother and the surrealist colors of the landscape.
“They say that you’ll never become allergic to what you grew up around because your body grew the defenses for you around it — it’s kind of like that,” Uribe-Horta said. “This very lush and jungle landscape is still very present in my life, even though it may not even be like that anymore. We keep these prized, treasured memories.”
Her own studio
By 2020, Uribe-Horta was established in Brooklyn’s art community. When the studio she worked in closed during the pandemic, she briefly shared space with other artists before setting up her own studio. In 2022, she transformed it into a studio-showroom, complete with custom furniture, with help from a friend. The vision: a safe, creative space for people to meet, connect and use art as meditation. To cover her costs, she began renting the space out for events and photo shoots.
She also started more regularly teaching drawing, painting, sculpture and ceramics. With that came another benefit: “You really do learn different things when you’re teaching,” she said, including “how the knowledge is being translated and transmitted.” Uribe-Horta soon discovered that many students preferred flexible, drop-in style classes over long commitments. She also expanded her offerings to include collaborations with artist friends and guest instructors, corporate events and pop-up shows.
Teaching as a financial strategy
Her shift towards more teaching was also a savvy financial move. It’s now her main source of income, as artwork has become a tougher sell. During the pandemic, “everyone was beautifying their spaces,” as many Americans spent much of their time at home and often had extra cash from the pandemic stimulus payments, she says. Post-pandemic, people in the U.S. are spending less on art and interior design, part of a broader shift in consumer spending.
“My realization was that at this point, people would rather spend their money, instead of an object, on an experience,” Uribe-Horta said. “Ultimately, that is what they carry with them.”
Health roadblocks and colorful rebirth
Her experiences as a teacher also helped her through nearly two difficult years during the pandemic, when overuse caused her dominant hand to temporarily lose mobility.
“It was very frustrating, because who is the artist without their hands?” Uribe-Horta said. “I couldn’t hold a pencil … You feel so useless.”
However, Uribe-Horta still taught some classes, guiding students with her voice, with friends helping her demonstrate how to sculpt. Later, her artwork approach also shifted, and not in an unwelcome way: For a long while, before her hand broke, her work had been in only black and white, neutral tones. She avoided using the bright colors she loved when she was young. She thought it would box her into stereotypes tied to her name and nationality.
“As with anything, when there’s a huge fire, everything dies but life goes on,” Uribe-Horta said. “The first things in a field, in a situation, that start growing are tiny little plants and insects and bugs and bacteria come in … even if it’s in a mutated, surreal, creepy, mutated way.”
Her true nature
These images weren’t just a metaphor for her recovery. When she could do little more than cut paper, she started turning these colorful dreams and ideas into collages. Eventually, when she could lift a pencil, she sketched kooky drawings of mushrooms, plants and insects that didn’t exist. These imaginative blob-creatures became the seed stage of a new body of colorful work — what she calls “Alice in Wonderland meets Avatar garden.”
This connection to her true nature — plants, colors and all, like 5-year-old Uribe-Horta — has helped her through other health challenges. So has her community. Uribe-Horta was recently diagnosed with stage four endometriosis and multiple benign tumors. She leans on her partner, her French bulldog and a close circle of friends who remind her to prioritize rest.
She also takes refuge in the smiles of students.
“To be able to create these experiences and these atmospheres for people, it’s very bonding,” she said. “It has given me a focus on a purpose that is not just, ‘Oh, I’m a painter, and I just paint whatever I want.’ It’s more of, ‘What do I do with this that I know, and how do we share it together?’ ”
Advice for entrepreneurs
Uribe-Horta shared this guidance for other entrepreneurs and small business owners via email:
- Stay rooted in your unique vision. “Being an artist is not about fitting into a mold — we think and do things differently. I never imagined I’d have to turn my practice into a small business, become an S-Corp, and take on all the responsibilities that come with entrepreneurship. The turning point for me was realizing that my community treasures me for what I bring to the table: being a woman, my Latin cultural background, my relationship with materials and the unique way I create. That authenticity is what drew the right people to my work.”
- Don’t underestimate the power of community. “Most of my opportunities didn’t come from working hard alone, but from collaborations, relationships and saying yes to new connections. My very first collaboration came through the relationships I built while working as a server at a Williamsburg restaurant. My bosses later asked me to design copitas for their incredible tequila brand, Tepozán, and that opened doors I never expected.”
- Remember that growth is not linear. “Some months are full of work and everything flows, and others are quieter — but those quieter times often plant the seeds for your next chapter. Or sometimes, they’re simply telling you it’s time to rest. I learned this the hard way. This past August I was freaking out because I didn’t have a lot of work, and then I saw a quote on a meme: ‘If no one is responding to your emails, maybe it’s a sign you too should take a break.’ So I booked a ticket to visit my best friend in Paris, and that trip was so inspiring and regenerative. Be patient with your process, celebrate small wins and keep showing up for yourself. When your work finally doesn’t feel like work — that’s the magic point.”
Explore her art and class offerings: fernandauribe.com/collect
Follow on Instagram at @fernanda___uribe
Showroom Studio:
67 West Street, Suite 613
Brooklyn, NY 11222
Email: fernanda.uribe@gmail.com
