Allison Zuckerman’s Art of Resistance, Reimagination & Jewish Renaissance
By Leah Kogen Elimeliah
I first encountered Allison Zuckerman’s work at Kravets Wehby Gallery in the Spring of 2024 on a spontaneous visit with my two daughters. As we stepped inside, I presented them with an assignment: find a painting that speaks to them most, then take pen to paper and write their impressions. It’s a practice we’ve adopted over the years as a way of nurturing their connection to art and language; a way of giving them space to meditate then translate the visual world into words.
We were captivated by Allison’s works. Her canvases burst with vivid, unapologetic colors, exaggerated female figures, and pixelated ornamentation that shimmer like mosaics. The bodies she renders are excessive and theatrical, with a sort of mythical quality. Her characters seem to live in a reimagined, yet familiar fairytale, which of course my daughters connected to. They questioned her style, echoing the Italian modernist painter and sculptor Amedeo Modigliani’s elongated forms, while attempting to use Allison’s technique in their interpretations. Some of her female characters feel like they are coming straight out of Lichtenstein-esque comic aesthetic, where women are reduced to objects of fantasy, their complexity replaced with a flat, colorful caricature. Yet, beneath this bubbly surface, Allison’s work challenges the traditional representations of women in art history, as she manages to subvert the historical one dimensional female narrative by critiquing societal oppression of women, which forced them into roles that were limited and oftentimes expressionless.
As a Jewish female artist navigating a complex, fractured world, her paintings peel back personal and historical layers in an attempt to confront what had been stolen, erased, or overlooked. These various themes became even more apparent during my visit to Allison’s studio in Brooklyn. Our conversation unraveled like a tapestry: we weaved through her process, her inspirations, and the political, social, and cultural constructs that underpin her work. She spoke of the molds society imposes, particularly on women, and the ways she resists and redefines those boundaries.
But there is something deeper, an urgency that resonates in all her work and also in our conversations. Since October 7, 2023, when Hamas declared an existential war on Israel, Allison has been wrestling with questions of identity, heritage, and belonging. As the world around her shifts, she finds herself diving into the history of Jewish art and artists, unearthing what has been lost, taken, or silenced. Nazi artists during World War II in particular, organized the 'Degenerate Art' exhibition held in Munich in 1937. Jewish artists at the time were officially deemed ‘degenerate’ and could not participate (The “Degenerate Art Exhibition” was a show to ridicule modern art. A wing was devoted to Jewish artists, like Chagall, to insult them even further. This was not a show that artists would want to participate in.) Leaning into this history, Allison works to reclaim this narrative, using aesthetics popularized by these so-called “degenerates” by utilizing their styles in her own paintings, an opportunity that she has found to emphasize the strong presence and contribution Jews made to art history.
It has been documented that Hitler and the Nazis seized an estimated one fifth of all art in Europe, and about 600,000 pieces of that art was stolen from Jewish collectors, museums, and galleries. The plan was to amass a grand collection for the Fuhrermuseum in Linz, Austria, while also systematically erase Jewish cultural identity. With this often overlooked bit of history in mind, Allison’s work is a form of reclamation—an act of defiance against erasure.
In her studio, surrounded by her vibrant creations, Allison spoke of reimagining the past with power and purpose. She infuses her canvases with colors that scream with life, layers that hint at hidden stories, and stories that refuse to fade into obscurity. For Allison, it isn’t just about reclaiming what has been taken; it is about building a Jewish cultural inheritance for future generations.
Her art is a conversation, a confrontation, and ultimately, a celebration. It reminds me that even in the face of loss, there is a way to reimagine, rebuild and reclaim our collective Jewish narrative.
LKE: What inspired you to become an artist?
AZ:
I have an older sister. Growing up we were always doing the same things, if she took piano lessons, I took piano lessons. We both took karate lessons. Then she started taking art lessons, but I was too young to enroll. Every Saturday afternoon she would come home with all these interesting paintings, and I kept telling my parents, begging them to let me take art lessons too. Finally, they signed me up and I came home after my first class with a portrait of a queen, it was the first thing I made and my parents were so impressed with my painting they didn't believe that I made it. That same art teacher, Tina Riley, ended up teaching in my school. I formed a more personal relationship with her and was able to take private lessons with her after school. I kept studying art through high school, took art classes at the Art Association downtown, and did nude figure drawing at sixteen. The process and the feeling when making art or drawing has never waned, I don't even think of time or anything when I am making art.
LKE:
What drives you to the past when making art, and combining old with the new?
AZ:
We owe so much to art history. Nothing is really new. And of course throughout art history, artists have always been referencing other artists’ works and this is just the story of humanity, whether it's art or not, it's all one big collaboration, whether we are collaborating with someone from the past or now, it's a wheel, a continuation. And while I at times am critiquing the canon of art history through my own work, I am simultaneously paying homage to it. Never try to pass anything of someone else's as my own, referencing is key of course, it's like when a writer uses quotes as a source.
LKE:
Can you talk about the female characters in your works and about your style, using pixelation as a disguise of someone's identity? Some of it is grotesque, and feels like there are parallels between the clownlike and the empowering figures in your works. There’s an absurdity and mockery of the figures in your paintings.
AZ:
For a long time, my work was focused on feminist themes and empowerment. Looking through art history, seeing that so often the subjects are female and they are depicted in an anonymous submissive way, many times the females in the male-created artworks are nude. That's pretty much how it was for about five hundred years. So I wanted to take these women and retell their story through my own perspective, the female perspective. Maybe they are also nude but I added layers to their character, empowering them but also showing they are imperfect.
Sometimes the women I depict are intimidating and sometimes maybe they are hard to look at and are not for everyone. I love the idea of “dressing up” in art history, it feels kind of like drag. Then the drag serves as a form of spectacle, over the top, a hyperbole, an exaggerated version. I appreciate the overall “performance” of femininity and so I exaggerate that aspect in my art.
Regarding pixelation, I am curious about the idea of censorship today. Sometimes we see something being censored and in other cases, we don't. In some cases one photo will be censored here and then uncensored somewhere else, and so the question arises, where do we draw the line? It all feels arbitrary. Pixel, the smallest unit with which to create art digitally. When you zoom in you only see a square and that is how we build images in a digital form. I really like speaking to how images are digested today, as well as created.
LKE:
Let’s talk about how comic books influenced your work. In Arts Management magazine, they wrote that you provide “an alternative narrative to the female subjects by situating them in an empowering manner.” Can you talk a bit about your process here.
AZ:
I love comic books. I love Roy Lichtenstein, and what is so true about comics is that in the 50’s and 60’s there were separate comics for girls and boys. Comics for boys were about superheroes and comics for girls typically portrayed girls crying by the phone because their boyfriends didn't call or they were crying over their breakup. I wanted to change that narrative.
The idea of the Ben-Day dots and how that is used to make comics. This form of media has now evolved into a square, the pixel. Back then it was the dot. Rauschenberg, Lichtenstein, Jasper Johns, Andy Warhol speaking to that as their primary form of media, printed media and dots. That is why in some of my works, I add rhinestones which are meant to represent the ben day dots. The idea of filters on social media, and how we can light up our images and change them and animate them, this too plays into my work. Going back to the idea of performance — as a little girl, you play games such as pretty princesses, everything is about rhinestones, fancy gowns, crowns, saying, “look at me I am wearing all these pretty things, jewelry and I am jeweled… I am performing my idea of womanhood through my artworks.
LKE:
So you are playing into these roles, but in doing so, simultaneously showing the absurdity of it. How does that reflect in you as a female, how do you resolve that juxtaposition?
AZ:
Yes, I am definitely playing into it. It's the idea of being simultaneously self aware and self deprecating. I like being girly and at the same time critiquing it. I am also grappling with it all at the same time and trying to enjoy it — it's a paradox. I love dressing up and doing my hair. It's all part of a performance, of womanhood, wearing high heels, putting makeup on, and I enjoy playing into it.
LKE:
How do you think the world perceives you in this realm of paradox? If the world perceives women as such and we play into it consciously or subconsciously, then how do we change or shift this perspective of what a woman is or what it means to be female?
AZ:
I feel it should be voluntary and shouldn’t be imposed. I find it more like a hobby. It's entertaining and fun. If I don't want to do it, then I don't. I don't feel pressured when playing the female role. But it all plays into the construction of what it means to be a woman.
LKE:
Talking about the “disguise” aspect, we as human beings all wear multiple masks. Even some of your characters are masked. Do you agree?
AZ:
There’s a book called, “Preliminary Materials for a Theory of the Young-Girl” by (Semiotext(e) / Intervention Series) and one of the lines that always stayed with me is, “the young girl wears the mask of her face.” There is always masking taking place. Art history is masked by history itself.
LKE:
In some of your paintings, the female characters are quite masculine. Can you talk about the role of gender in your work?
AZ:
I think there is a power to those women. I believe there is a performance in all genders, even when I spoke earlier about the femaleness of a woman, how she performs that “task” or that “role.” As an artist, the artwork I make is a way for me to play around with and grapple with those questions and boundaries. Maybe I am still figuring all of that out with myself. And the art work speaks for itself I feel, and I think speaks to many.
LKE:
Is there a female artist in particular, or any artist, perhaps a character in history, that you come back to?
AZ:
I keep returning to Martha Stewart. A truly talented artist. I consider her to be the female of Walt Disney. She came up with an idea, made it an aesthetic, and kept on growing it and that's what art is. You come up with an idea and you keep growing it, but it's also guiding itself. I love how Martha can go from macro to micro at the same time, paying attention to every detail, orchestrating the vision to perfection, from a napkin ring to a banquet. And that’s what I love about art, that it gives you the opportunity to take something from ordinary, object or subject and make it extraordinary. That's what Martha Stewart does. She knows how to take what she has and work with it and acclimate to the new way.
LKE:
Tell me about your pre-October 7th work and post-October 7th work? What has it been like for you as a Jewish woman in the past year and a half? Either personally or in the art world?
AZ:
October 7th and the aftermath has been very jarring. It ignited a huge reaction in me, particularly my pride as a Jew. Because my previous work was more focused on my experience as a woman, I suddenly saw my work becoming more about what it means to be a Jew.
I felt that Jews at this time needed to be empowered and celebrated and it felt incredibly inspiring. I felt extremely hopeless after seeing what was happening, seeing things that hurt me. I thought to myself, yes, I can make donations, volunteer, but I wanted to somehow bring light to our people, so I chose to channel my feelings into art and it has provided me with much optimism.
I am celebrating Jewish voices. What I have been doing since October 2023 has been feeling quite urgent to me. Door to Door, “Dor V’Dor” — taking the art works that were celebrated by The Third Reich and completely undoing it. Retelling history and empowering Jewish voices of the past. And of course witnessing the recent surge in global antisemitism has inspired me to delve into the work of Jewish artists for solace. My research quickly revealed the 'Degenerate Art' exhibition held in 1937 Munich, in which all Jewish artists were officially deemed as 'degenerate' and the concurrent 'Great German Art' exhibition, which prided itself on its 'Aryan, Jew-free purity.' In a move that has characterized my art-making, I took from these Nazi artists, so I could retell and remake their stories using Jewish voices. Chagall, Modigliani, Katz, and Guston are among the Jewish artists I looked to for this collaborative effort."
Recently, I opened a show in Berlin at Koenig Gallery. Before going there I reached out to the curator of the German Art Historical Museum and saw that the paintings from the Great German art exhibition of 1937 was shown there. I introduced myself and let them know that I was doing some research and asked if I could come and see them. Dr. Sabine Benecke, the curator, got back to me and said yes, but the Nazi works were no longer on view and in a warehouse on the outskirts of Berlin. Nazis were part of the biggest heist in the history of heists, stealing art works from countless Jews families.
It was incredible; I went and met with Dr. Sabine Benecke and she’s pulling these artworks out, and I had chills. These paintings, touched by the notorious Nazi party, and here I am having my intimate moment with these works. It's one thing to be in the same city, the same neighborhood, but to look at artwork, see the brush strokes, knowing Hitler favored these. I wasn’t able to take photos but it was quite an intense experience. I am still doing work on this theme and research, learning more about Jewish artists and Israeli artists. Learning about what kind of art came out of Jews from Europe who fled the Holocaust and the Israelis who made art post the Holocaust. As I am learning I hope to also be educating others through my own work.
LKE:
Where do you think the artworld is going?
AZ:
There are various ways to approach this. There’s the market, which boomed during COVID, which was the opposite of what I thought would happen. And post pandemic, you see the art world has slowed down. You do see a lot of abstraction. Abstraction is interesting, post World War II, I was just looking at Mark Rothko paintings and how much there is an association to the war, bombs, warfare, and gas. He was Jewish, so maybe abstraction is a way to process all this type of destruction, this madness. But as for me, for now, I cannot get away from the figure, I might do some abstraction later on, but it would be with the use of pixelation — it would take a lot of time to get there though.
Abstraction might be a good way to speak about all the madness and chaos plaguing us in the world. When you include a figure, that is pretty loaded. But with abstraction, it's about form, color, art history, abstract expressionism. Like Theodor Adorno’s famous stance on art, chaos, and abstraction, that in a chaotic world, particularly right after the Holocaust, abstract art and experimental forms become necessary and authentic modes of expression. For me, abstraction would be birthed from the pixelation that I do, but storytelling is much more direct, and I love telling stories.
LKE:
What have you been working on and what are some interesting collaborations you have had recently?
AZ:
“From Door to Door” opened last May in New York. This show was a way to bring light and combat anti semitism. The work is still going on, very much so, I am learning more about Jewish artists and exploring their work, like Reuven Rubin. He is in a way Matisse meets Marc Chagall but also very much his own individual of course. This exploration feels like a beginning.
Sometimes I get to also do interesting projects or collaborations, last year TikTok commissioned me to make a mural depicting American Jewish Pride and Heritage. I designed a mural and we had Colossal Media, a hyper realistic mural paint company, to help. The mural was in Brooklyn. TikTok even brought some Jewish influencers, it was really cool. The video of the event and the process has not yet been released, but I hope it comes out this year. After the mural was finished, a security guard was hired prior to putting the protective coating on the mural so no one vandalized it.
The theme was celebratory Shabbat, when you all come together, whether you do anything traditional with it or you just come and sit around the table. I think either way it's a beautiful tradition, the inclusivity of Shabbat and welcoming Shabbat itself.
I also like to make kids drawings from my paintings or sell prints. Typically I do this to raise money for an organization I am interested in supporting. I made hats a few months ago that say, “We go Chai,” and all the proceeds went to the Hostage Family Forum. In the summer, I made an edition of one of my paintings from the “Door to Door,” the “Queen Esther” painting and sold it. I raised $20,000 and every penny went to Yad Vashem. I feel like it's important to take all the feelings of sadness, fear, and disappointment and turn them to proactivity. Currently, I am raising money for the Jewish Museum in Australia, a print launch of my painting “There Were Three of Us This Morning.” Everything we do has an impact, a small action or a donation, even an IG post.
In April, I am in a group show at the Jewish Museum of Australia in Melbourne. I have been working closely with the curator, Alana Kushnir. Recently, Australia’s largest synagogue just a few blocks from the Jewish Museum was set on fire, another terrorist attack. Cars were being set on fire in Jewish neighborhoods.
It is so important now more than ever, to be part of a Jewish community, a collective, gaining a deeper connection that doesn't leave you feeling alone. My religious friend recently invited me to a Lag B’omer party in Crown Heights. It was so wild. All the floats coming down the street, a huge parade, then we went to the main Synagogue, 770, went to the Rebbe’s house and said a prayer over the mezuzah. Many people dressed in massive mascot costumes of Jewish characters, it was quite a sight and inspiring.
My work is very much immersed in Jewish resilience and contribution to art. I don't see myself leaving this exploration any time soon. This feels urgent, necessary and inspiring.
Show details:
“CHUTZPAH”
Jewish Museum of Australia
Opens May 1 - July 27 2025
Artists: Nina Sanadze(Australia/Georgia), Ori Gersht (Israel/UK), Inbal Nissim, (Australia/Israel), Elinor Sahm(Israel/Germany), Hedy Ritterman (Australia), Stephania Windholz Leigh, (Australia/Poland), Joel Mesler (United States), Allison Zuckermann, (United States) Jordy Kerwick (France/Australia), Navot Miller (Israel/Germany)
curated by Alana Kushnir (Australia)
