Normal Roots

Printmaking, Parenthood, and a Career Rooted in Community

When Lisa Lofgren graduated with her MFA in Printmaking from Illinois State University in 2012, she didn’t have a plan to stay in Bloomington-Normal. She thought she was bound for Minneapolis—a bigger city, a creative hub, and a place where printmaking had momentum. But then, something else happened. She stayed. And she built something.

“I ended up borrowing money against my car and bought a refurbished press,” she recalls. “My dad came out, we built shelves, painted, put in lights. It was this little nook in the building my husband owned, and we made it a print shop.” That act of making space—physically, professionally, and personally—would become a theme in Lisa’s life. Over the last decade, she’s carved out a creative and career path deeply rooted in place, community, and adaptability.

A Practice Born of Problem-Solving

Lisa didn’t always see herself as an artist. Growing up in Buffalo, Wyoming, she admired her older brother’s talent but didn’t think she had the same natural ability. A middle school art teacher’s dismissive critique of her work reinforced that doubt. “I knew it was terrible,” she laughs. “My teacher just laughed at it and said, ‘You’re turning this in?’ I didn’t know how to fix it. I just said, ‘I’m done.’”

But that experience didn’t break her connection to art—it deepened it. “It wasn’t defining at the time, but it hit me recently how much that memory stuck with me. I was fascinated by art, but I didn’t know how to do it yet. That puzzle stuck with me.” High school was a turning point. With the ability to finally choose art electives, Lisa gravitated toward the studio. “Whenever I had a free moment, I was there. It became the place I felt most myself.”

At the University of Wyoming, she found her medium: printmaking. She hadn’t encountered it before college, but the technical rigor, problem-solving, and tactile nature of the work lit her up. “You’re just knocking things out every two weeks. It was fast and furious,” she remembers. “I was stumbling through every process, and I loved it. It matched how my brain worked. I just wanted to learn it all.”

Without graduate students at UW, undergrads like Lisa took on advanced responsibilities—something she now recognizes as key to her growth. Under the mentorship of Professor Mark Ritchie, she dove deep into every print process she could get her hands on. By the time she graduated, Lisa had completed two significant exhibitions: In Between Spaces and Patterns. The first showcased her technical chops through a series of copperplate etchings. The second—a mix of printmaking, watercolor, and collage—was more personal. “I didn’t even know how to talk about it,” she says. “But that show felt like the one I was working toward all along.”

Expanding Possibilities Beyond Academia

Lisa stayed on an extra year at Wyoming, balancing multiple roles—assisting printmaking faculty, working in the university museum, and traveling statewide with the Ann Simpson Art Mobile. It was a whirlwind of curation, teaching, and community engagement. Those experiences expanded her understanding of what an art career could look like. She applied to grad school with the goal of becoming a professor. But a summer internship at High Point Center for Printmaking in Minneapolis cracked that vision open. It showed her how vibrant and collaborative the print world could be outside academia.

Around that time, she also met Matt—now her husband—whose creative practice was completely outside institutional structures. “He was ‘uninstitutionalized,’” she says. “He created and curated without the framework of a university. It really changed the way I thought about my own work.” That shift led Lisa to embrace a more mixed-media, assemblage-focused approach. It also grounded her more deeply in the value of community spaces.

Building Roots in Bloomington-Normal

Lisa chose ISU for its intimate MFA program and the chance to work with Normal Editions Workshop. Though she assumed her stay in Central Illinois would be brief, life had other plans. Her post-MFA years were full of creative hustle. She taught at Heartland Community College and Eureka College, worked at a garden center, assisted on an organic farm, and co-ran a cooperative-style gallery in Bloomington. But juggling five jobs at once was unsustainable.

The opportunity to work at University Galleries came at the right time. It provided stability, while allowing her to stay immersed in the art world. “Most people don’t know what a registrar does,” she says. “Essentially, I manage everything that comes in and out of the gallery. I handle finances, contracts, logistics, student hires, artist visits, and installation details.”

Lisa thrives in the details. She enjoys exhibition installation, working closely with a small but nimble team of three curators. Together, they care for a 3,000-piece collection. While the gallery’s acquisitions have slowed due to space and budget, the mission remains strong. “We don’t want to just collect to store,” she says. “We collect to show—and to reflect a broader range of voices.”

Reimagining What It Means to Be an Artist

Lisa is clear about one thing: being an artist doesn’t mean doing everything. “People assume because I’m an artist, I can do any kind of art,” she says. “Paint a mural, make a logo, whatever. But that’s not always in my skill set—and it’s not always interesting to me.”

She’s built a model that works: a full-time job that supports her family and creative life, and a studio practice that unfolds on her own terms. Her partner’s less structured, visionary approach balances her own. “I have to work really hard at being an artist,” she says. “And I also need stability—for my mental well-being, for my family. That balance works for us.”

Her definition of artistic success has also shifted. She used to aim for one solo show per year. Now, she’s more interested in giving the work the time it needs. “I had a show originally scheduled for 2020 that got pushed to 2021,” she says. “And that extra year? It made the work better. I had time to refine things, do deeper research, make sure it said what I wanted it to say.”

Print as a Tool, Not the Destination

Lisa’s relationship to printmaking has evolved. It’s no longer the singular end goal—it’s part of a broader visual vocabulary. “It used to be the thing I resolved everything through,” she says. “Now, if I need a crisp line, I’ll etch. If I need bold color, I might do a woodcut. But it depends on what the piece needs, not the technique.”

She finds new energy in reworking old prints—cutting, layering, collaging them into something new. “There’s a little more distance now,” she says. “I can see those old pieces for what they are, not what I wanted them to be. And sometimes, they just need to be part of something else.”

Life, Layered

Motherhood has reshaped Lisa’s relationship to time and making. She creates in fragments, lets the rhythm of daily life inform her materials, and brings her child into the studio when needed. It’s made her more flexible—and more curious. “I think a lot about what fuels my practice outside the studio,” she says. “Because that’s where the real work happens—in how I live, what I notice, what I gather.”

She’s increasingly drawn to materials that hold time—rocks, prints, layers of handmade paper. Her interest in geology parallels her own evolving sense of permanence and impermanence. Fifteen years after moving to Illinois, Lisa is firmly rooted in the community she once saw as temporary. Her work continues to evolve, balancing curation, family, and art-making. And while she once questioned whether she belonged in the art world, she’s long since found her answer—one layer, one print, one carefully chosen rock at a time.

Interview by Kelsey DeGreef for Normal Roots.