Works in Lexy Ho-Tai’s studio. Photo courtesy the artist

The MoMA Family Festival: Another World, running February 15 through 19, 2025, invites families to explore creativity through hands-on activities and artist-led experiences. A Soft Place to Land, by Lexy Ho-Tai, is one of the featured installations: the artist transforms upcycled textiles into a comforting, interactive world where visitors can play, create, and rest. In this conversation, she shares the inspiration behind A Soft Place to Land, born out of a desire to create comfort in difficult times.

What inspired you to develop A Soft Place to Land, and what led you to focus on creating textiles and soft sculptures?

Lexy Ho-Tai: I started by asking what I wanted to see in the world right now. Thinking about how hard the world feels right now, I thought about these larger-than-life beings, to make people feel small and held. I really wanted a place for people to rest. Although, when I go back through my old work, I feel like I’ve been exploring this idea for more than a decade.

I work in a lot of mediums and consider myself a multidisciplinary artist, but textiles are my first love. It’s the medium I always return to. People interact with textiles every day through clothes and domestic objects. So in a museum context, it makes the pieces really inviting and less intimidating. I also love their resiliency. How is it that their softness actually makes them so long-lasting? I’ve moved around a ton and I really love how I can just fold up a textile piece, stuff it in a bag, and the fact that it does break or tear, and is also really easy to mend and repair, becomes part of the story.

How did you come to use the upcycled materials? Does sustainability play a major role in your practice?

Coming from an immigrant family, it’s almost generational knowledge. When I was growing up, I recall seeing my grandma use orange bags as a sponge and just using what was at hand. That’s something I continue to do in my art practice. I also think the way that we’re living is deeply unsustainable, and I’m disgusted by capitalism, consumerism, and want to participate in those systems as little as possible. Of course, I can’t change these systems on a really large scale, but I can use my life and art practice as a model for the world I want to be in. And that includes rethinking materials which we do have in such abundance. I think a lot of creativity comes out of using what you have around you.

Works in Lexy Ho-Tai’s studio

Works in Lexy Ho-Tai’s studio

The artist at work

The artist at work

Works in Lexy Ho-Tai’s studio

Works in Lexy Ho-Tai’s studio

How does creating work for children influence your creative decisions? And how do you tap into a sense of playfulness and childishness?

I’m honored to be creating for kids. They are my ideal audience. Something I really love about kids is that they keep me very honest in my work. If I’m making work for adults, it can be easy to be caught up in art-world stuff. But when I’m sharing with a seven-year-old, I have to distill my ideas in the most honest and simple terms. I think it actually invites me to keep on adding layers and little details. Kids can really appreciate that. In my practice, I do try to hold space for my inner child. I have drawings that I did when I was a kid and things that I loved back then in my studio as a kind of inspiration.

The next one is about the Giant Cuddle Monster. It is a participatory art piece that requires the contributions of kids from all over to create it. Can you talk about the impetus of that being kind of participatory and inviting these contributions from various folks and what incites you about creating participatory art?

I first made a giant collaborative cuddle monster in 2021, during a weeklong school visit, with a group of kids. This is the next iteration of that project, but with a little more expansiveness in the prompt. Essentially, people are mailing me monster parts. I’ve also hosted people in my studio here in New Orleans and we’ve created Monster Parts together. Then I find a way to stitch it all together into a giant creature.

I thought it would mostly be kids, but adults have participated, too. Our oldest participant is 77 years old, so the ages range from four to 77, and it’s very beautiful. The monster parts are still arriving. I’m curious to see it all come together, and feel really excited to be a part of creating something that’s going to end up being bigger and stranger than something I could have created on my own. I hope it can be a creature that has many limbs, many heads, many teeth, and many eyes of all kinds. And when people meet this monster, I hope they can see different parts of themselves reflected in it. Even though it’s a monster, I think it represents us as humans. We all are kind of messy in our parts.

Monster Making

Monster Making

How do you hope folks at the family festival will engage with the work and all the interactive components a part of it?

I hope it’s a space in which people can feel a sense of comfort. There’re also two classrooms that are offshoots of the installation where folks are invited to create art. We have areas for making costumes and upcycled flowers. Folks are invited to create artworks and then add them to the installation. So I hope the installation will evolve as people enter the space and use their creativity. Most importantly, I hope it will provide a pause from this world, during which they can sit still with themselves. By authentically expressing myself, I hope I can invite kids to do the same. I think that’s important. We live in a world where there are a lot of social constructs and voices telling us what to do and how to be. I really want kids to remember that they’re great in their fullness and their weirdness.

Lexy Ho-Tai’s studio

Lexy Ho-Tai’s studio