Edra soto, graft, red steel and concrete structure referencing puerto rican rejas, central park commission by public art fund doris c. freedman plaza, gate public art with chairs and tables. — Edra Soto, *Graft*, 2024. Photo: Nicholas Knight, courtesy of Public Art Fund, NY. Presented by Public Art Fund at Doris C. Freedman Plaza, New York City.

At the Doris C. Freedman Plaza in Central Park, Puerto Rican artist Edra Soto’s brick-colored installation invites communal interactions. Made from durable construction materials such as corten steel and terrazzo, Graft simultaneously functions as furniture, portal, infrastructure, and monolith, with references to the architectural motif rejas seen in working-class Puerto Rican communities. The work constitutes part of Soto’s ongoing series investigating “the relationship between private and interior lives and shared public history and culture.” Presented by the Public Art Fund, the intervention embraces visitors who sit down, linger, and pause for coffee, activating the surrounding urban fabric with a sense of home. In this interview, Soto shares the story behind the work’s conception, unpacks some core inquiries that guide her practice, and muses on migration, identity, and community.

Xuezhu Jenny Wang: Could you share a little more about how this project with the Public Art Fund came to be? What do you hope to achieve by presenting this piece?

Edra Soto: It’s a unique opportunity to create something on this site. When visiting PAF’s various public art exhibition sites, I knew I wanted to work with this Central Park location because it serves as a focal point for people and traffic—an entrance and exit at the same time. The park is surrounded by affluent communities and neighborhoods, which made me think about the area’s history of displacement.

My work highlights and celebrates the working-class communities of Puerto Rico, focusing on their culture and presence. For this piece, I was inspired by the facade of Puerto Rican residential architecture. I want to create concrete images from these decorative motifs that feel monumental.

The design incorporates elements that are welcoming, open, and familiar. For example, a typical entrance in Puerto Rican architecture might include an arch or some indication of reception. With this piece, you can approach it from both the front and back. I also integrated seating areas inspired by the benches commonly found in Puerto Rico’s public plazas.

Everything I’ve represented already exists in Puerto Rico. I’m simply pointing to elements and details that hold cultural value, and I hope to elevate these communities by thoughtfully representing their everyday environments.

XJW: Now that this architectural motif has been relocated from Puerto Rico’s communities to Central Park, what has changed with this shift of context? What hasn’t?

ES: Central Park isn’t exactly residential, nor is this installation. It’s a representation of one. I think there are qualities of this kind of residential architecture that are very familiar to people in general because this kind of architecture exists all over the world, not just in Puerto Rico. Because I grew up in a lower- and middle-class community in Puerto Rico, I started thinking about whether there’s any kind of significance to this type of architecture and how I can speak about it to highlight its importance. I often reflect on what we have, how we value it, and how we care for it. If we take pride in and care for what we have, that sense of value can be contagious. It’s like how keeping your neighborhood clean communicates value and fosters a sense of self-esteem.

That’s how I think about this architecture. These designs often fade into the background as part of daily life. I’m curious about what these abstractions and motifs represent, as well as their cultural value—if people recognize the significance of certain structures, maybe they’ll take better care of them and preserve them instead of altering or disregarding them.

XJW: When and why did you start becoming interested in the symbolic power of architecture?

ES: My experience of migrating from Puerto Rico and constantly traveling back and forth shaped my thinking about architecture. My background is in painting—I was a painter for about 10 years. I even went to grad school to study painting at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.

At one point, I was searching for a way to express my migratory experience. Growing up, I spent so much time in my home in Puerto Rico that it made sense as a source of inspiration. I imagined transplanting residential architecture from Puerto Rico to places I traveled to in the United States. This “imaginary transplant” became a way to think about how space is inhabited and how I can find a place for myself. I chose decorative motifs as a way to represent myself—my skin, my journey, my character.

XJW: How has the series Graft evolved and changed over time?

ES: I’ve been working on this project for over ten years. Early on, my work was less permanent, using materials and forms that were not as architectural or monumental. Those earlier pieces were more like indoor sculptures. Over time, the work began to morph into something more permanent and solid, transitioning into public art.

My growing experience with public art made me realize that it’s inherently a collective effort because of the care and trust involved. For this Central Park project, a large team of collaborators brought the different parts in and installed them. Seeing banners with my name in Central Park was surreal. It’s really a community effort. There’s so much trust among everyone involved that what I have to say matters, and I’m incredibly grateful for that.

XJW: Your pieces that incorporate viewfinders encourage people to engage closely. The idea of closing that gap stood out, given that distance is frequently mandated by galleries or museums to protect artworks. What do you think of this mode of viewer-art interaction?

ES: The structure itself is physically strong—I painted it myself. The surfaces of my work almost viscerally encourage people to get close, which instigates connection. I love watching visitors engage with it; some are so committed that they’ll even kneel down, bend over, or make extreme movements to get a closer look. It’s fascinating to see people interact in ways beyond what I imagined.

Actually, I look at people looking at art all the time. As artists, we live in a world with others and have the power to guide how people navigate our work. I’m less interested in an exclusive or elitist practice. After graduating from a prestigious art school, I had to ask myself: Why am I making art? Who do I want to advocate for and represent? The answer is people like me. I went to school to gain the tools and education to figure out how to do that—how to make art that resonates with and advocates for my community.

XJW: How has your expression or relationship to migration changed throughout your career? Do you think people receive it differently now, especially with the current contentions around immigration?

ES: Migration is such a complex topic, and my perspective is just one of many. I try to make my work as relatable and accessible as possible while staying true to my vision. Over the years, fortunately, I’ve noticed more Puerto Rican artists and artists of color representing decorative motifs in their work, which wasn’t as common before.

I’ve returned to these motifs repeatedly because of their cultural relevance, and they still feel honest to me. Migration is intrinsic to humanity—people have always moved to grow and experience the world. It’s unfortunate that we’ve made it so difficult for ourselves with borders and senseless policies that are arbitrary, like so many other laws that have changed over time. Think about how marijuana was illegal or how homosexuality was once criminalized. It shows how deeply laws, often dictated by those in power, can influence us.

My role as an artist gives me a space for self-expression and questioning how the world operates.

XJW: How do you define home, and where is it for you?

ES: Home is where love and family are, where I feel alive and relevant. Home is memories and my upbringing. For me, it’s both Puerto Rico and Chicago. Puerto Rico is my foundation, where my formative years took place. It’s what shapes everything I do now.

XJW: I saw on your website that you co-direct The Franklin. Can you tell me about it and what it represents for the community?

ES: I've always been an art lover and find inspiration in other people's expressions. In grad school, I realized how much I loved organizing and celebrating other artists. My first experience of curating was at SAIC, where I organized a group show in an overlooked space on campus called the Student Union Gallery, which no longer exists.

After graduating, I found a job as a teacher and taught high school for 10 years, which I'm very proud of because the experience nourished my soul. But being out of school, I was looking for a community to work with. When my husband and I moved to East Garfield Park, we built a gallery in our backyard. The Franklin grew out of a desire to contribute to Chicago’s artist-run culture in a meaningful way. Another thing that led me to it was just thinking about how I can create something that contributes to what already exists in Chicago. It’s different from traditional galleries—it’s semi-outdoor, sustainable, and community-focused.

The Franklin has allowed us to bring together diverse artists and audiences. It supports emerging artists, showcases our art collection, and creates an inclusive space. It’s always been a labor of love. It’s a collaborative space that evolves with the artists who engage with it. The structure itself has a life of its own.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Edra Soto: Graft, presented by the Public Art Fund, is on view at Doris C. Freedman Plaza in Central Park from September 5, 2024 to August 24, 2025.

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