Artistic Journey and Sculptural Origins
Aleksandra Scepanovic is a sculptor working between Woodstock and Brooklyn, New York, whose practice explores the human condition through fragmentation—revealing how brokenness can hold beauty, endurance, and transformation. Her life has traversed immense upheavals: born in then-socialist Yugoslavia, she came of age as a war reporter during the Balkan conflicts, witnessing rupture in both personal and collective dimensions. She later found refuge and artistic reinvention in New York, where sculpture became her language of reckoning.
Her journey began through self-directed study and deepened through formal training at the Art Students League, the Florence Academy of Art, and Lyme Academy, as well as workshops with renowned sculptors Philippe Faraut and James Murray. After years of quiet, private making, she debuted her first solo exhibition in 2024—marking a pivotal moment in a practice that is both intimate and politically resonant.
Scepanovic’s sculptures embrace fracture not as destruction but as transformation. Working in clay, stone, wood, and found materials, she creates fragmented torsos, eroded faces, and broken figures that inhabit the tension between vulnerability and power, presence and erosion. Memory, identity, and displacement converge in these works, where the human body becomes both witness and vessel. Her approach reflects a philosophy rooted in resilience—acknowledging instability without collapsing under it.

A portrait of Aleksandra Scepanovic in her studio
Sculpture as Response to a Fractured World
Scepanovic’s work does not exist in a vacuum; it is shaped by—and responds to—the ruptures of contemporary political, social, and environmental life. One of her most striking pieces, The Third Strike, emerged after the overturning of Roe v. Wade, a decision that profoundly affected her as both a woman and an artist. The sculpture captures the aftermath of impact—a fragmented female form embodying devastated strength, bodily autonomy under threat, and the quiet endurance that follows collective trauma.
Another key work, The Erosion, speaks to environmental collapse. In this sculpture, material disintegration mirrors planetary disintegration—evoking the slow, often ignored crises of climate change. Through deliberate material choices and formal gestures, Scepanovic transforms clay into a metaphor for fragile ecosystems, eroding identities, and human denial.
She is particularly drawn to women’s autonomy, migration and exile, and the psychological scars of war—forces that have marked her personal journey and shaped her artistic voice. Her sculptures respond to these pressures not through slogans or literalism but through layered symbolism, allowing viewers to confront discomfort and ambiguity on their own terms. Political rupture becomes clay; personal exile becomes texture; collective trauma becomes fractured form.
Responsibility, Audience, and the Art World
For Scepanovic, making art is not an escape from the world but a reckoning with it. Her background in journalism means she cannot separate observation from creation; bearing witness is intrinsic to her sculptural practice. While not every piece must be overtly political, she believes in the responsibility of artists to speak truth through form, to hold space for the complexities of contemporary life.
She has noticed a distinct shift in audience engagement over recent years. “Audiences today are more emotionally attuned, perhaps because the stakes feel higher,” she observes. There is a deeper hunger for work that touches the raw nerve of the present moment. Yet, this openness also brings tension—when her work addresses divisive subjects, reactions can be charged. Silence, she notes, can sometimes be as telling as applause.
Political polarization and environmental awareness have affected her opportunities in complex ways. On one hand, institutions are increasingly interested in socially engaged work, opening calls around identity, climate, and justice. On the other hand, some organizations still shy away from emotionally intense or politically charged narratives. Navigating these dynamics has become part of her artistic life.
Scepanovic believes cultural institutions, governments, and the art market should act as amplifiers, not gatekeepers. Artists don’t need validation—they need visibility and sustainability. She calls for funding, residencies, and platforms that support risk-taking work, particularly when truth-telling becomes inconvenient or dangerous. “Art can be a compass in times of instability,” she says, “but only if it’s allowed to speak.”

An artwork by Aleksandra Scepanovic
Material Choices and Environmental Consciousness
Scepanovic’s environmental engagement extends beyond themes into the material and methodological core of her practice. She works with clay, stone, wood, and found materials—often recycling fragments, reusing discarded pieces, or reworking earlier sculptures into new forms. Many works are left unglazed or minimally treated, allowing the raw material to speak for itself.
She also introduces participatory components into her exhibitions. Viewers are invited to shape fragments of clay, which she later fires and returns—transforming passive spectators into co-creators. This method blurs the line between artist and audience while grounding her exhibitions in material reciprocity and community interaction.
These choices reflect a deep awareness of environmental responsibility. Rather than perpetuating cycles of overproduction, she works slowly and deliberately, embedding sustainability into both her philosophy and her process. For Scepanovic, material care is inseparable from conceptual rigor.
Dialogue, Action, and the Power of Quiet
Scepanovic sees her work as part of a larger dialogue about identity, resilience, and transformation in turbulent times. “My hope is to offer form to feelings that are hard to name,” she explains. If a viewer recognizes their struggle in a cracked torso or fragmented face and feels less alone, then the work has succeeded.
She believes that art doesn’t need to scream to be powerful. In a cultural moment often defined by loud declarations and rapid reactions, her sculptures offer whispers that endure—slow-burning encounters that linger in memory. The fractures in her work are not wounds to be hidden; they are sites of reflection, spaces where meaning can gather.
Through ambiguity and fragmentation, her sculptures resist easy narratives. They invite viewers to confront their own negotiations with change, identity, and vulnerability. In this sense, her art participates in political and social discourse without sacrificing subtlety or emotional depth.

Artwork by Aleksandra Scepanovic
Closing Reflections and Call to Engage
To emerging artists, Scepanovic offers a simple but profound piece of advice: “Stay porous.” Allow the world to affect you. “The artist’s job isn’t to resolve but to reveal—to stand in the fissure and reflect back what we’re too afraid to see.” She emphasizes that growth often comes slowly, through silence, patience, and sincerity rather than speed or spectacle.
To audiences, she suggests listening with more than just the eyes—to linger in ambiguity, discomfort, or stillness. These moments, she believes, are where truth often resides.
She also calls on readers to support local and emerging artists, especially those working outside commercial trends. “These are often the voices we need most,” she says. For Scepanovic, art is both personal and universal—a mirror for inner life and a vessel for collective questions. Her sculptures remind us that fracture can be both wound and wisdom, and that in quietness, reckoning often speaks the loudest.