Digital Practice and Process: Petra Cortright in Conversation with Leyla Fakhr

In this conversation, artist Petra Cortright joins curator Leyla Fakhr to reflect on her digital practice, the evolution of her work across platforms, and the shifting dynamics of visibility, authorship, and identity in contemporary art. Through an open dialogue, they explore the intersections of technology, gender, and aesthetics in Cortright’s approach to image-making—from her early webcam videos to recent large-scale digital paintings. The exchange offers insight into how Cortright navigates the art world while remaining grounded in process, experimentation, and self-awareness.

LF: How are you doing, Petra?

PC: Hi! Good to see you. I’m okay—just packing right now because I’ve got to head to the airport in a couple of hours.

LF: Thanks so much for joining! Remind me again, you’re heading to Switzerland?

PC: No, I’m actually going to Utah—today, I think? Oh my God. I’m speaking at BYU, which I’m really excited about. I love Utah, I’ve always liked the American West. So yeah, just packing now. If you hear rustling, that’s why—but I can stop if it’s too distracting.

LF: Not at all. It’s been so long, and I wanted to catch up with you. You’ve been on a bit of a break, right? Things got pretty rough in California, and I just wanted to check in and see how you’ve been doing. Are you back home now, or still in Santa Barbara? I’m not sure how much you want to share, but I know your husband’s been public about it.

PC: Yeah, we’ve been open about it. It’s been really surreal. We’re incredibly lucky our house didn’t burn down—it came so close. None of it feels real, honestly.

LF: I remember hearing that Mark and your neighbour saved the street. Is that right?

PC: Yeah, they stayed behind. We were going back and forth, but Mark returned in the middle of the night when it was clear no one was coming. And it’s not the firefighters’ fault—there just wasn’t enough support. I still can’t believe it happened. I’m at stage zero in terms of processing. We’re out of our house, living in the neighbourhood I grew up in. It’s totally surreal. My son’s even going to the same elementary school I went to.

Our house got heavily damaged by smoke, ash, and wind. The ash tested positive for lead, arsenic, and lithium—but thankfully, no asbestos. Not that the other stuff is good, but still. It’s like a weird COVID déjà vu—the lack of protocols for homes that are still standing is shocking.

LF: So it’s beyond what they can handle, and the regulations just fall away?

PC: Yeah, it’s completely overwhelming. The only thing I can compare it to is 9/11. This wasn’t a typical wildfire—it wasn’t sagebrush. It was melted Tesla dust all over our baby’s things. It’s very much “do your own research” territory right now.

LF: I remember you telling me during that time that the only thing you made sure to grab was your hard drive. That really stuck with me.

PC: Yeah, and I managed to pack up my entire studio too—which is definitely one benefit of being a digital artist. My husband, Mark, is an oil painter—he couldn’t take his studio. But we all grabbed our favorite artworks, family photos, documents… it would’ve been devastating if it burned, but we had 20 minutes and made the most of it. It’s weird—I’ve imagined evacuating before, being from California. But when you’re actually doing it, it’s surreal. You’re looking out the window and thinking, “Yeah, this is real.” That’s when the hard drive goes in the bag.

LF: That’s terrifying, but I’m so relieved you’re safe. I wonder how something so huge affects your practice. Obviously, it must’ve paused for a while, especially with kids and needing to relocate. But did it shift how you think about your work too? The pieces in Next Room for your solo release feel so shaped by what you went through.

PC: I was just looking at the new pieces and realizing they have a certain mood—like, very fiery, a little burned. I always work intuitively, so I just make what I feel. It’s not deliberate, but it reflects what I’m going through.

LF: Your current studio setup is not ideal, right?

PC: Not at all. Right now, I’m working off a plastic Costco folding table next to a bed—actually, two beds—in one room. It’s fine, the town is lovely, but we’re all living on top of each other. And finding housing was really hard—so many people are displaced.

LF: That’s so interesting though—you didn’t even realize your new work looked like it was influenced by the fires. I saw it and thought it was clearly referencing the event.

PC: Yeah, now that you point it out, I see it. But I wasn’t consciously doing it.

LF: It looks very deliberate, with those dark tones and oranges. It’s amazing how much your environment seeps into the work without you realizing.

PC: I try not to overthink things, especially with painting. I prefer a kind of stream-of-consciousness approach. Some artists need everything planned, but I lose interest if there's no mystery. That’s when it stops being fun.

LF: Makes sense. And right now, it’s about finding any kind of normalcy.

PC: Exactly. I’m just trying to feel grounded again.

LF: How do you manage everything going on? Is your show still up in Chicago? Can you tell us what’s currently on view or what’s coming up next?

PC: I can’t even remember yesterday—definitely in survival mode. I think the Chicago show is still up. I’m in several group shows opening soon. One just launched in Korea with DWT Ra—it’s a gorgeous gallery from Portugal that opened a space in Seoul. That show’s called Floral Still Lives. I couldn’t go though—it was just too much. I always feel bad not being there in person, but traveling from California is so intense. Even Europe is a 10 to 15-hour journey.

LF: It's what turned me off. We were going to move to LA, but I just couldn’t do it because I was going back and forth to my hometown a lot. I grew up in Germany, and I wanted to be closer to Europe. I just couldn’t imagine constantly flying back and forth. So I feel you—it’s a lot. Not easy. Yeah, the flights...

PC: Yeah. That’s why I’m stoked to go to Utah. I love the American West. I love living here. I love California. I love the ocean. Right now, we’re living literally five minutes away.

LF: It looks amazing where you live. Honestly, anyone who isn’t following you on Instagram should. Your shots of nature are beautiful—the flowers, the landscapes. You can really see how much that environment influences your work. The compositions and your sensibilities really come through in those photographs.

PC: I’m super excited to be living here now. It’s this calm, safe little town by the ocean, and I really missed that. I had this weird guilt in December before the fire, because I freak out if I don’t get to the ocean enough. It’s so important to me. But in LA, we lived near the mountains, so it was more of a drive to get to the coast, and I really missed it. Now, I’m living right by it—but under the weirdest circumstances. So there was some guilt around that.

LF: It is nice being near the ocean. I love it too. So, the exhibitions you’ve got on right now—are they all paintings? What’s currently being shown in all the places you're exhibiting?

PC: I just made a list because I'm honestly the worst at keeping track of this stuff. I don’t even know. There’s a show up at LACMA right now—they have a video in the digital exhibition.

LF: Yeah, it’s so good. Do you know how long it’s up for? I’d love to see it.

PC: It’s up until July 13th. That big Digital Witness show at LACMA. I’m also in a show coming up in Berlin at this church space called I Sought My Soul—that opens April 15th. Then I’ve got a group show in Venice in May, curated by the School for Curatorial Studies in Venice, Italy. In June, there's another group show in Monaco at Almine Rech. Oh, and I have a museum show in Switzerland at Säulenhalle Solothurn—I’m probably butchering that name. It’s just before Art Basel, during that time. I’m also showing at Art Basel Unlimited with my Berlin gallery.

LF: Is that one really paintings?

PC: No, this one is webcam videos. I’m super excited—we’re showing 210 webcam videos on 50 screens.

LF: I love those. Are they the originals?

PC: I did a similar install at the Palm Springs Museum a couple years ago. Not many people got to see it, but that museum is amazing—it looks like a '90s shopping mall, but it’s beautiful. This new install feels like a lot—it’s 15 years of my life, really. All webcam videos. It’s very intense in a kind of batshit way.

LF: So are they being sold as one piece or individually?

PC: In the past, we sold them individually. But I think I’m going to group them together this time—it’s just more effective that way. There are only a few that are sold out or where I only have the artist proofs left. The first one I ever made—the webcam one—I gave the artist proof to MoMA. That’s the only proof I’ve ever given away. But, you know, if it’s MoMA, sure, they can have it. So yes, we’re going to sell them as one edition now. I think it works better that way—to have it as a whole collection. So yeah, grouped together—because why not? You can just do that.

LF: Can I ask you something? It’s very digital work, right? So why not put it on the blockchain? Why are they being sold physically—with a certificate and a hard drive? How are these sold?

PC: I make them on hard drives. And for this install, they’d have to be—there’s a lot of files. But the videos themselves are tiny because they’re webcam files. Like, the piece at MoMA is only 3.7 megabytes. You could literally email it. That always feels like a bit of a troll to me—a tiny 3.7MB file hanging in MoMA. But yeah, we make these custom, bookcase-style boxes—like a clamshell. Really nice ones, so the edition sits on a shelf, and it contains the hard drives with the exhibition version and the archival version. That’s the best solution I’ve found for collecting video. As for the blockchain—these videos have been online for 15 years. Do they need to be on the blockchain? I don’t know. I’m asking you.

LF: I mean, it kind of makes sense for them to be on the blockchain. They live on the internet, right? They’re already on YouTube. So maybe they should be sold that way?

PC: I did try it once, back when NFTs first blew up. I put an alternative version of one of the videos on Foundation. And people were kind of snarky about it. They were like, “This is just an Instagram filter,” and talking all this shit. And I’m like… yeah, actually. You know?

LF: I remember when we first talked, I was like, “Petra, can we have those?” Do you remember? Because they’re such a key part of who you are. I’m really excited that Silo is showing them—I’m going to go see it. I’d love to see them all in one place.

PC: It’s wild seeing them all together. People have such strong reactions—either they really love them or really hate them. I remember 15 years ago when I posted them on YouTube, people would go off in the comments. Some of them are boring, honestly, but the reactions were intense—like, “What am I even watching? I just wasted my life.” And I used to talk so much shit back. I try not to do that anymore. Ever since becoming a mother, I’ve had a policy of not fighting online—even as a joke. There's no nuance anymore. You say something funny, people take it too seriously. There used to be more banter, but now everyone gets offended.

LF: And then you spend hours trying to explain or defend something.

PC: Exactly. And it’s just not fun for me. I’m not going to spend hours defending a position online—I don’t care enough. I don’t have time. When I was 20, sure—I had time to fight online. And if you're 20 and want to do that, go ahead. It's fun. But now, I’m just pro having fun on the internet.

LF: It’s interesting, Petra. You started out with these super personal webcam videos, and now you’ve moved toward painting, which feels more removed from the self. Was that shift intentional? Was that just your 20-year-old self? Do you think you’ll return to that work?

PC: Yeah, it was intentional. Because I’m older now. If I feel like making webcam videos again, I will. But it comes from a different place now. My context has changed—I used to spend all my time online, alone. Now I’m a mom. I have a family.

LF: There was a moment where the webcam thing was everywhere—people just filming themselves, whatever. But now that’s been replaced by Instagram reels or TikTok’s—these tightly edited, composed clips. It’s no longer that raw, unfiltered me-in-front-of-the-webcam vibe. It feels more constructed now. Thought through.

PC: It’s content creation now, which is like—imagine if I started doing front-facing content creation. I just laugh. I already did that 15 years ago. The videos are still up on YouTube. That box is checked.

LF: So tell us more about the series we’re releasing soon. We haven’t even gotten to that yet. You touched on it briefly, but tell me more—what’s the thinking behind it?

PC: Oh—Cowboy Dip, right? Let me pull it up. I’ve been working on so many paintings, I need to reference the album.

LF: It’s an absolutely beautiful series. I can’t wait for us to share it.

PC: Yeah, with the series I’ve done with you guys, I try to embed little traces of older files. The paintings I released before sort of fade and blend into new ones. If you’ve seen the others, you can literally pick out the same brush strokes—I’m pulling from old files and creating new ones. Everything I do is a version of a version. It’s my own library of marks and images. I always say it’s like a meme—except they’re not funny. They’re mimetic in that way: versions of versions, but without humour. I don’t make funny paintings.

LF: You call them “mother files,” right? You pull from that repeatedly and build on top of it?

PC: I used to. I think even 10 years ago, I had more clear separations between files. But over the last couple of years, they’ve gotten so blended. I think the mother’s dead. It’s like a whole family now—just one massive hybrid.

LF: So they’re all merging into each other?

PC: Yeah, it’s hard to even know where the starting point is anymore.

LF: And how long does it take you to create each painting? Some of them are really intricate—especially in this new series, but even the previous ones.

PC: It depends on how much time I have in a day. I’m not always building from scratch—like opening a white PSD and starting new. But if I am, it usually takes about a week to get a solid amount of work into a painting.

PC: That's like a long...

LF: That's longer than I thought.

PC: It’s longer than it’s taken in the past, but that’s just with a new piece. That’s only because I have a five-and-a-half-year-old and a baby—they have different schedules. A good working stretch would be two straight hours. That’s a lot for me right now. Even having two hours is rare. Most of the time it’s more like, “What can I do in 45 minutes?”—which is a baby sleep cycle. And that’s only if I have the energy or don’t have laundry or other mom things to do.

Right now, a new painting takes about a week, but that’s just to build the base. Once it gets going, it moves quicker. It only takes a few hours to start outputting the versions once the world of the piece is constructed.

LF: How do you feel about AI, and how much are you incorporating it into your work? I know you pull from specific sources—you mentioned using photos of your husband's brushstrokes. Are you using AI at all, or staying away from it? How has the public's increasing use of AI affected you, if at all? It's never been easier to access. Is it something you're considering more?

PC: I've been using it a lot lately, especially for writing—it's really helpful. I’ve been experimenting with the AI tool integrated into Photoshop. It’s not amazing, but I’ve figured out how to get it to work for certain things. It really helps when the painting is 75% done—I can start prompting for generative fills in Photoshop once the structure is there.

I don’t know if it’s actually training anything in Photoshop; I don’t think it’s that sophisticated. But it’s still amazing—sometimes it produces something great. I just started using it, but I’m not one of those artists who have been diving deep into AI for years. I’m not on the forefront—I’m more of a casual user.

I still like to do a lot myself—it’s part of what I enjoy. But sometimes I’ll experiment just to see where a piece might go. It’s exciting when you’re running low on steam and suddenly a prompt takes you in a whole new direction. I just see it as a tool.

LF: How important is resolution and scale in your digital work? Is it something you consciously consider? Do you prioritize high resolution for large-scale output, or is that secondary?

PC: It’s all printed—but some parts, like certain brushstrokes in the physical pieces, are isolated in the file and then printed using dimensional techniques or opaque spot whites that really look like actual paint.

LF: Was there any actual paint on that piece I saw, or am I totally off?

PC: No, it was all printed. But yeah, it might have looked painted. The printing process is complex—some pieces go through the printer seven or eight times. Different layers are grouped, depending on the inks and technology used. I love dimensional printing—it looks really cool.

But when it comes to high-def, I don’t stress much. I barely work in set dimensions unless I’m making a specific file for a known physical space. Otherwise, I enjoy the flexibility of not working to fixed scale.

That’s something painters don’t have—they have to decide everything upfront. I love not having to make those decisions. It’s a huge benefit of working digitally. I’ve said this for years—it lets me do things others can’t. Things can be customized on the fly. You don’t have to worry about it while you’re building the painting’s world.

I also don’t obsess over resolution. Files are much larger now than they were ten years ago—back then they were maybe 800MB or so. Now, they average three to five gigs. I usually work at mid-size—between 25% and 50% of final print size, sometimes full size if needed. But I’m not a high-def purist.

Honestly, I don’t love the way hyper-detailed printing looks—it can be a bit cheesy unless it’s done with extreme precision. Someone like Cory Arcangel makes gorgeous, meticulous gradients, and that’s their thing.

But my work has grit. I like leaving traces that it’s digital. I’m using small images pulled from the internet, blowing them up, smearing pixels—it’s painterly. I’m fine with some roughness. You need both high and low res elements in the mix.

LF: Totally—it gives texture and variation. Different resolutions add layers. I'm going to open up to audience questions. In the meantime, what’s next for you? Can you tell us quickly about your upcoming show in Switzerland?

PC: It’s a big installation. They gave me access to an archive of Swiss tourism images from the region, which I used as the source for the paintings. The show is loosely seasonal—very Swiss-nationalist paintings in a way. I love Switzerland, so I embraced the theme.

It was challenging though—the images are already so beautiful and perfect. What do you do to improve something that looks like a chocolate box cover?

The installation is very physical—we’re printing layers of the paintings on sheer fabric and hanging them throughout the museum space. It’s something I first did at Team Gallery in New York about five years ago, just before COVID.

LF: Hanging from the ceiling?

PC: Yeah—they move and flow in the air. It’s really pretty. It's like stretching out the painting physically, showing the layers in space.

LF: That sounds lovely. Can we share your upcoming curatorial project? I’m not sure if it’s public yet.

PC: Yes, they just announced it yesterday. I’ll be curating a section at Untitled in Miami. They're calling it curating, but it’s more like consulting—I’m recommending galleries and artists I love.

People still have to pay for booths, though. I wish I had the power to offer discounts to help artists get in! But I don’t. I’m probably not even supposed to talk about that.

LF: You’d be giving everyone a discount. But it’s exciting—your experience and knowledge of the digital art space makes you a perfect choice. Have any galleries confirmed yet?

PC: Not yet, but we’re hoping to get confirmations in the next couple of weeks. When I walked through Frieze LA or Felix recently, I didn’t see a single screen. That’s not reflective of 2025. There’s still such a divide. I told them I really want more screen-based work in the fair.

I love outsider art, and I’m pushing for some unconventional choices. I don’t know why they asked me—but I’m definitely giving them some oddball recommendations.

LF: That’s exactly what they need. I found Art Basel especially boring this year.

PC: The problem is how expensive art fairs have become. When booths cost so much, people don’t take risks with experimental work. I’m recommending as many online platforms as possible. I really respect them for asking me—it’s a bold move.

LF: I think it’s a smart one. They need to shake things up. I can’t wait to see what comes of it. I know you’re flying soon, so I’ll wrap up. Thank you so much, Petra, for joining us. Your new work is going live this week, right?

PC: Yes, this coming week.

LF: I’m really looking forward to it. It’s a beautiful series—so excited to share it. Have a great time in Utah and good luck with everything ahead.