Rising Stars: Meet Maria Loewenstein of Koreatown

Today we’d like to introduce you to Maria Loewenstein

Hi Maria, we’re thrilled to have a chance to learn your story today. So, before we get into specifics, maybe you can briefly walk us through how you got to where you are today?
I was born into a household of music and art lovers in Vienna, Austria. From an early age on I was exposed to all the experiences that would eventually turn me into the artist I am today.
Sundays were reserved for church, a museum visit, and finally, a McDonald’s Happy Meal—a reward that kept me and my three siblings patient through long services and even longer museum visits, where my father could easily spend hours. Little did I know then that these seemingly routine outings would spark a passion that has followed me through life like a red thread.
The need to create was always within me, though I never initially considered pursuing a life as an artist or identifying as one. After all, what truly defines an artist? Is it formal education—or simply the unstoppable urge to create?
My earliest artistic experiments began in my father’s basement, where I worked with mixed-media assemblage using only hand tools. Rusty metal scraps, old photos and weathered materials fascinated me. I struggled to cut through the metal, unaware that my father had hidden the power tools, fearing I might injure myself.
It wasn’t until my early twenties, after moving to Los Angeles, that I fully embraced my artistic identity. By then, the urge to create—to express myself through different materials—had become undeniable. Los Angeles offered a different lifestyle and opened up my mind to a lot of new things, all at once.

We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
Life has not always been easy. Los Angeles brought its share of struggles—whether financial hardships in the beginning of my journey, the search for belonging, or battles with loneliness. At times, I wrestled with my artistic mind a lot, which often felt trapped in the confines of human existence, struggling to make sense of the self-destructive nature of humanity and myself.
Eventually, I found like-minded people that shared some of my passions. I rented an art studio in Culver City at a place called The Guild, which became my sanctuary.
In 2022, while visiting my family in Austria, my studio burned down. Losing it was devastating, and with it, I put my assemblage art on pause. Since then, I’ve shifted my creative focus more toward photographic projects that mostly carry a lighter outlook on life, contrasting with the heaviness I explored through assemblage art prior.

As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
I believe we all possess many different talents, and the more we explore new things, the more we may uncover them. I enjoy working with various materials and experimenting with new techniques.
In my mixed-media assemblage art, I often process themes that challenge me—such as immigration crises, wars, child labor, and the ways we perceive ourselves and the world around us.
My photography, however, takes a different direction. I am currently working on a series called “Recipes”, where ingredients are arranged on a person’s body in playful and often humorous compositions.
Another project, “Sillywalks”, inspired by Charlie Chaplin’s character The Tramp and shot in Vienna, offers a whimsical reminder of the charm and importance of unique storefronts and their iconic typographies.
The Houseman and Hausfrau project plays with the word house—Haus in German—through a clever linguistic and visual concept. The series features a man in the English version and a woman in the German version, each wearing a house on their head. Together, they create a playful wordplay that bridges language, culture, and imagery.

Designing furniture has become one of my newfound passions. After working in the film industry in Vienna and Los Angeles for many years, I witnessed the large-scale disposal of materials that could be repurposed and given new life—a realization that sparked my interest in sustainable design.
In recent years, I have also developed a deep appreciation for children’s books. Feeling a strong calling to write children’s literature myself, I hope to create stories that speak not only to future generations but also to the child within us all—stories that inspire imagination and contribute to positive change.
Last but not least, I fell in love with classical music and began singing opera. One day, I hope to combine music with my other passions, creating something truly unique.

Where do you see things going in the next 5-10 years?
It’s hard for me to tell where the art industry and creative expression are heading. With AI in the mix, I know things are bound to change, probably faster than we can even imagine. Lately, it feels like both art and music are leaning more and more toward the commercial, chasing trends and algorithms rather than soul.

I can’t help but wonder: with so many digital creations that feel hollow, do we, deep down, notice that something’s missing? Is there a part of us that senses it’s not quite right? I wonder what this will do to us and to humanity in the long run.

For me, art has always been about connection, emotion, and something raw and real. I believe no matter how far technology pushes us, people will always crave that human touch—something that feels alive and imperfect.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.marialoewenstein.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/maria_loewenstein/

Image Credits
Portrait of myself by Anja Grundboeck