Maggie Dosch ’21 talks art history, empathy, and the MFA Art Residency at Kylemore

Author: Emma Kirner

Maggie wears a green sweater, with a Notre Dame lanyard, and draws on a canvas at a desk of art supplies. Behind her, large windows overlook a blue lake surrounded by mountains under a bright sky. An easel with a painting is to her left.
Maggie works on her paintings at Kylemore

Maggie Dosch ’21 grew up in South Bend and graduated as an art history major with minors in Italian studies and studio art. Currently the assistant curator of education, for school programs at the Raclin Murphy Museum of Art, she attended the Notre Dame Kylemore Winter 2026 MFA Art Residency. In this Q&A, Maggie Dosch discusses her experience at the Kylemore residency with research programmes manager Emma Kirner.

How did you settle into the medium, form, and subject matter you currently work in?

I initially entered college studying architecture because someone in high school recommended that it melded both my mathematical and artistic interests. Despite my interest in the subject matter and analysis components, once considering the outcome of actually becoming an architect, it ultimately came down to not feeling enamored with the studio practice as an architect. I felt rushed to complete projects, and missed the manipulation of oil painting, which is completely different from the primary use of watercolor in classical architectural curriculum. After switching to a minor in studio art, I made a slow transition from rendering architectural spaces in oil, to moving toward portraiture.

See Maggie’s portfolio.

On our faculty at the Kylemore Art Residency is Maria Tomasula, studio art professor emerita at Notre Dame. Tell me about your relationship with Tomasula as a professor, and how that relationship influenced your decision to apply to this residency?

The main reason I applied to this art residency was because of my relationship with Maria Tomasula, given that she taught all of my painting classes while in undergrad at Notre Dame. She is my north star of influences, from how I have approached my subject matter and conceptual bounds of my work, but also my practice. Her critiques are some of the most valuable, rich, and beautiful moments of growth for me. She is the type of professor that sees your vision and works to augment but never change it. Even in my first class with her, I felt deeply seen by her as an artist. What makes her approach so successful is that her feedback often comes in the form of questions such as, “Is this what you are intending?” or, “What if you changed…?” This method encourages you to arrive at your own solutions rather than being given answers, which has been incredibly empowering.

What are you working on in this residency?

I transitioned from portraiture to still life elements later in my practice, exploring a blurred boundary between objects and subjects, and treating objects as if they were portrait subjects. This provides an initial framework for the work I am doing here, using subjects found in nature to engage with ideas around the Anthropocene, environmentalism, and consumerism, as well as broader concepts of empathy and intersubjectivity.

My main question is: what defines the boundary between empathy and apathy? I am interested in exploring the ironies within that space. Much of the time, I paint animals or remnants of animals, and viewers often respond with empathy toward these dead or dying “beings.” In contrast, we are frequently confronted with terrible events involving humans, yet often dehumanize those subjects. This tension is where I hope to take my work in the future.

A large gray and black bird, painted with bold brushstrokes, is depicted clutching a dark, fish-like object. The artwork is presented on a white background marked with a faint grid.
Oil painting of two dead white and grey birds with ruffled feathers, lying on a reddish-brown surface, against an abstract dark green and yellow background.
A painting of a deceased white and gray bird lying on its back on a light wood slice. A dark fishing lure is hooked in its beak, with reddish-brown staining visible on its body. Green grass surrounds the wood.

I draw on the history of memento mori paintings, game piece paintings, and even vanitas paintings, where there is a moralizing lens. Lately, I have been painting a number of dead birds, and using that art historical framework, I ask myself what forms of viral strategy or human impact are affecting these subjects. Since these birds are found during my walks in nature, their presence in my work prompts me to consider how we are implicated in the Anthropocene.

Talk about your background in art history, and how it has influenced your own approach to making art.

I am still interested in classical and medieval art, but my favorite classes were about ’90s-era slacker artists and other contemporary practitioners. It’s an interesting irony, because some of my favorite artists are super contemporary and often associated with installation work, such as Cady Noland and Félix González‑Torres. It’s funny because my work is strictly two-dimensional. Even though I stick to the confines of the two-dimensional space, I am introducing an element of installed space, depth, and dimension.

Thinking about Kylemore itself, and this landscape, how has this environment influenced your approach to your practice here?

The theme of memento mori has been coming up everywhere at Kylemore for me. In a single day, the weather patterns shift dramatically, and decay is visible all around us in this temperate rainforest. Both thematically and texturally, some of the spaces I am painting have been inspired by a stump at Kylemore or the moss I have encountered on my walks.

What has been a meaningful interaction of artistic dialogue that you have had here at Kylemore?

Frances Ryan has been so forthcoming with encouragement. I have run into her on several of my walks, and she has been recording a song thrush and told me where to go and find them, knowing my interest in birds. It was nice to hear from Frances that dealing with these dark themes allows for an outlet to see the beauty in this cycle of life, death, and change.

Talk about your work that you do outside of your artistic practice. How do you gather elements of your art history and art background into your role as assistant curator of education at the Raclin Murphy Museum of Art at Notre Dame?

A group of children and adults engage in an art activity at a long dark table. Crayons, glue, and paper cutouts fill a blue craft tray.
Maggie runs a student program at the Raclin
Murphy Museum of Art

At The Raclin Murphy Museum of Art, our core themes are hospitality, empathy, and belonging. A museum is a very profound extension of the classroom, because it offers a third space of collective meaning making. Rika Burnham and Elliot Kai-Kee are two of the most influential theorists of museum education, and they discuss the concept of intersubjective encounters, which are the shared, interactive, and emotional experiences between visitors, staff, and objects. There is a tangible choreography and exchange that happens for people that visit museums, in their hormones and emotions. This philosophy ties back to how I am interested in the use of symbolism in my own art practice, leaving space for different interpretations and democratic dialogue.


Interested in experiencing a residency program like the one Maggie attended? Learn more about how to apply to Kylemore’s residency programs for artists and writers on the ND Kylemore website.

Originally published by Emma Kirner at kylemore.nd.edu on January 29, 2026.