Audrey Kawasaki’s “Interlude” Opening November 12th

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Audrey Kawasaki
“Interlude”
November 12 – December 3

Thinkspace is pleased to present new works by Audrey Kawasaki in Interlude. This highly anticipated exhibition is her first with the gallery in LA since 2011. Based in Los Angeles, the Japanese-American painter is known for her erotically charged figurative works and the consistency of her highly sought after style. She chases a ghostly and forever evasive muse, always in search of the same cagey persona. Reinvented endlessly through mutable guises and incarnations, Kawasaki pulls “her” from beneath and within the surface of panel in what can only be described as an exorcism or a labor of love.

Born in Los Angeles to Japanese parents, Kawasaki grew up drawn between two worlds, immersed in Japanese culture while growing up in America. As a result, her childhood experience was divided in some ways, informing a sensibility that permeates her work still in its unique combination of Eastern and Western aesthetics. She grew up with manga comics, which ultimately inspired her to draw, and anime, and lists them still among her influences. Her illustrative style and preference for clean line work are equally informed by a love of European Art Nouveau. The wide-eyed muse that guides her hand clearly draws from both figurative traditions, while her use of ornate graphic motifs, organic imagery, and curvilinear lines feels indebted to the likes of Mucha and Klimt, also among her inspirations. Despite these clear antecedents, her work combines them into a cohesive style that feels entirely unique and personal.

Kawasaki’s paintings are firmly rooted in drawing. She begins each work with pencil on wood panel, her preferred ground for its organic warmth and natural inconsistencies. Once the drawing is complete and sealed with a gel medium, she coaxes the figure to the surface, bringing it to life gradually with multiple layers of oil paint. A perfectionist with a penchant for luminous and translucent skins and gradient color transitions, the paintings, and the fugitive within them, reveal their debt to process. With a preference for muted palettes, though she has recently experimented with bolder hues, Kawasaki uses the panel as an element in her compositions, allowing the grain to show through the pellucid paint.

The undeniable eroticism of Kawasaki’s works has garnered some controversy given the precocious innocence and ambiguously ageless quality of her ghost. The figure Kawasaki tirelessly chases, however, is inextricably linked to the satisfaction of personal fiction. Though not an alter-ego per se, “she” is an expression of the artist’s freedom and a grounds for fantasy and desire, exempt from the reality of social constraints. She is bold, at times vulgar, and at others vulnerable, a vehicle through which Kawasaki has explored feminine expressions of sexuality.

The coexistence of contradictory elements is central to the staying power of Kawasaki’s scintillating universe. Graphic yet ethereal, her paintings are innocent and dark, hopeful and morbid, controlled and ecstatic. Like any good haunting, the ghost refuses to relent.

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Interview with Allison Sommers for ‘Bruxism’

Allison Sommer Interview

Allison Sommers has been a part of the Thinkspace family for over a decade now and we’ve loved watching her work evolve over the years. In anticipation for her upcoming exhibition Bruxism, we have an interview with Allison Sommers discussing her inspiration and what Eau de Sommers would smell like.

SH: What is the inspiration behind this latest body of work?
AS: Most directly, the work probes the twinned experience of personal anxiety and the macro fin-de-siecle distress of the current political, civil, environmental, existential moment. I’m dealing less with the actuality of anything in particular than the expressionistic physicality of it— the falling-apart, the chewing-of-nothing, the grasping-at-past, the disquietude of even existing at all right now. There are explorations of embodiment and disjointedness that are continuations of themes I’ve been digesting for a few years, and a nod to a particular piece I’ve seen from Pergamon, which planted the seeds for a lot of the disintegrating classical bodies I’ve been playing with lately.

Bonus Story: I first saw the Pergamon Altar and the various other pieces that informed my work in Berlin a few years ago; oddly enough, they were in New York this year for a wonderful exhibition at The Met. I was lucky enough to be invited to a lecture and reception a few months ago, where I actually met the fellow who “discovered” this monumental head– it had been forgotten in storage for decades, and he stumbled across it and helped research and bring it to its current prominent position in the collection. Isn’t that funny!

New Works by Allison Sommers

SH: You’ve been showing with Thinkspace for the last ten years. As an artist, how do you push yourself artistically without compromising your unique style?
AS: I’ve been extremely lucky that Thinkspace has been along for the ride for almost a decade because I have indeed been evolving my style over the years. One of the best antidotes to stagnation, I think, is curiosity, or boredom, however you want to put it— I’m constantly mining my influences and circumstances for new ideas, constantly becoming obsessed with this work of art or that film or diving into this other new book. I feel like my work evolves pretty organically as I eat through all the art and culture around me. I follow where the thread leads, without too much concern as to how it relates to previous work, but my work is grounded in my hand, if that makes any sense, and therefore has at least a soupçon of unity, I hope.

SH: Do the characters you paint constantly live inside your imagination and you have to race to capture their story? Or are the scenes you capture created in the moment of visiting them?
AS: I don’t really approach my work, or art-making, in that way— I don’t have “characters” per se, but rather, perhaps, expressionistic stand-ins that anchor the paintings. They’re less narrative “scenes” so much as they’re fillings-of-blankness, emptyings of my hand and mind.

New Works by Allison Sommers

SH: What’s a common misconception about you, your art, and about artists?
AS: I can’t speak for other artists, but I bristle at exegesis most, I think. I completely understand the desire to have a painting mean something, or to have the painter tell you his meaning for his work, but I’d rather the viewer take their own journey there, since understanding mine is necessarily impossible. There’s no allegorical equation here. Half the time, I don’t know what my own work means, unless I’ve spent some serious time navel-gazing after the fact.

If I were to say anything against misconceptions about other artists, I’d quote Baldessari: “talent is cheap.” The work of art is located in the je ne sais quoi, not how well painted the piece is. Well-painted art is deadly boring, if that’s all it’s got going for it.

SH: If a perfume was made based on your latest body of work, what would the scent smell like – the notes?
AS: It’d have to be a little salty, a little spitty, with a floral aspect like the most shameless flowers— the magnolia or so— that just smell so overwhelmingly yellow like a wet cloak, like hot fresh cream, like coitus. Like the smell of the inside of a clean, greasy animal skull that’s been in the warm ground, sweet and familiar and unhappy.

SH: What are your favorite tools of the trade?
AS: Have (Alvin Draft-Matic) pencil, will travel. I have a library of Moleskine watercolor sketchbooks in my fire safe. Also, of course, gouache, watercolor pencil, copier pencil, chalk, a few crayons I found on the ground… nosebleeds collected in jars…

New Works by Allison Sommers

SH: Your work is incredibly meticulous and you’ve shared that it’s had an effect on your eyesight, how are you dealing with this change?
AS: Well, I’ve been scaling my work up over the years, so I’m feeling fewer effects on my eyesight than I had previously. As the title of the current show suggests, I’m actually having more of an effect on my body through anxiety.

SH: What elements of other art inspires you? What artists are you fawning over right now?
AS: I’m omnivorous when it comes to art, and right now I’m stuck orbiting twin suns— I have this somewhat inexplicable obsession with seventeenth and eighteenth-century painting right now, which I used to rather despise; have been spending a lot of time at the Frick and the Met. At the same time, I’m absolutely in love with the frenetic multi-discipline work of a few more current fellows whose large-scale pieces I’ve seen over the past year— William Kentridge at both BAM and the Met, for one. I aspire to combine more film, moving sculpture, poetry into my work like that, with hopefully an iota of the energy with which he manages to pull it all together. I was elated to see Marcel Dzama’s recent collaboration with the New York City Ballet, I’ve adored his work for years, and it was thrilling to see it put to such a large scale. Some of the current assemblage works I’ve been producing owe an obvious debt to Cornell and other similar artists. So, I’m pulled towards the foofy bewigged floral stuff on one hand, the gooky, gestural, modern mass ornament on the other.

New Works by Allison Sommers

SH: For those not familiar with your work or artist background? What inspired you to pursue a career in art, most artists and creative people are making things since their childhood but there is a significant difference between having artistic talent and being a full-time artist. What drives you?
AS: I am one of the “most” here, having been making things since childhood, and taking the utmost pleasure in it. I didn’t go to art school, and after University ended up turning an internship at a newsweekly into first a graphic design job and then art directorship. By that time, I was already working with Thinkspace, so I did my painting at night after work, and was thoroughly exhausted and frustrated, so by the time that we moved to New York, I knew that I wanted a path bending more directly towards my art (“sh*t or get off the pot,” as my folks would say). So, I tried to take all the time that I’d given myself by only taking part-time and, eventually, no-time work, and just filled every hour with drawing (and the flaneuserie and indulgent self-contemplation requisite of an artist). I’ve been extremely fortunate that somehow this all can be rounded up to being a full-time artist. It’s cliche, but I really can’t imagine doing anything else, and I’m so incredibly grateful that, at least right now, I’m able to have the luxury of so doing.

SH: What were you listening to during this latest body of work, podcast? Playlist? Netflix?
AS: I am only exaggerating a little when I say that the first month or so of work, I only listened to “The Wall” and then “Golden Brown” by the Stranglers, over and over. It’s my power music. No apologies for the big gobbets of prog-rock I listen to. I spend a lot of time listening to the radio— WNYC for at least six hours a day, WMFU in the evenings sometimes (Dave the Spazz’s show on Thursdays, in particular). Our classical radio station in New York is abysmal, so sometimes I’ll check in online with WETA, which I used to listen to when I grew up in Maryland. There’s a little radio station that popped up this year in a shipping container a few blocks away called “The Lot” that has given me an incredible amount of pleasure over the hours and hours in the studio, and I love that I can just zip down there with the dog and draw in their little yard if I can’t stand being inside anymore. I try to never miss Chances With Wolves’ show. Over the last few weeks, I’ve been listening to the playlist that I made for the show opening, so I suppose folks will get a bit of what my aural background was when I was wrapping it all up. If I must watch a video whilst working— I think it’s bad for your art, but sometimes you need something to push through the long late hours— it’s usually “Downton Abbey” or “The Knick”, or “Call the Midwife” if I’m feeling a little weepy.

Allison Sommers Postcard

The opening reception for ‘Bruxism’ is next Saturday, September 17th from 6 – 9pm. Visit our website for more information on Allison Sommer’s ‘Bruxism’.

Upcoming Exhibition at Thinkspace Gallery – Allison Sommers’s ‘Bruxism’

Allison Sommers Postcard

Allison Sommers
Bruxism

September 17, 2016 – October 8, 2016

(Los Angeles) – Thinkspace is pleased to present Bruxism, a solo exhibition of new works by Brooklyn-based artist Allison Sommers. In her sixth exhibition with the gallery, Sommers presents new mixed-media works that veer increasingly towards an expressionistic abstraction of the figurative. Known for her imaginative and irreverent worlds of creature curiosities and disobedient bodies, Sommers conveys an irrepressible disquiet through an undoing and upended capsizing of skins. Anatomically impressionistic, and at times barbaric, her renderings of bodies and humanoid animals appear in a state of troubling excess, rupturing through the flawed boundaries of their outsides. She presents us with a nightmarish vision of embodiment, reminding us of the body’s impermanence and mortal failure while revealing the uncomfortable beauty of the abhorrent.

Sommers’ vaguely apocalyptic world is aesthetically fraught and anxiety-ridden. Simultaneously gestural and painstakingly contained, a sustained tension emerges between the loose and the drawn, the chaotic and the controlled. Evocative and symbolically open-ended, her imagery evolves through exhaustive sketchbooks and the wrought work of constant mark making. Though familiar, her creatures are at far enough of a remove from the real to evade heavy-handed horror. The surreal proportions of the grotesque keep the imagery on another, more poetically licentious, plane. Seductive and simultaneously pained, Sommers’ world of viscera loosely intermingles violence with calm, the sacred with the profane, and the hideous with the alluring. The brutality of the flesh is an unavoidable precondition of the self, in both its violence and vulnerability, a theme that continues to seep from her work.

Sommers describes her process as one of frenetic distillation, a constant consumption and extraction of experience and influence. Working across a variety of media, she creates installation and sculptural-based works from found materials and altered remnants alongside her two-dimensional pieces. Starting from sketchbook drawings, Sommers builds her paintings through the accretion of marks and materials, layering drawing in various media such as graphite, copier pencil, wax crayon, china marker, magic marker, ballpoint pen and fountain pen, and interspersing these with layers of gouache, her preferred painting medium.

A former history major fascinated by 18th,19th and early 20th, Century historical and cultural themes, Sommers’ work has become decreasingly narrative-based over the years in favor of a more interpretative exploration of its various inheritances. She is interested in what she has called the “scale of grief” in the interwar period, a legacy of existential distress explored by the likes of Francis Bacon, George Grosz, and Otto Dix, all of whom she identifies as influences. Sommers invokes this dissociative experience of the body as a philosophically fractured, psychically incohesive, and ultimately disjointed vessel for the self. Though she dissuades an overly prescribed interpretation of her work, preferring to keep it loosely associative, Sommers’ references and allusions are complex and nuanced.

Among the themes explored by Sommers in Bruxism are the consuming compulsions and wasting momentums of anxiety, the repetitive and forced nature of nostalgia, and the imperfect and unresolved nature of embodiment. In keeping with her preference for references that function as thematic “scaffolding,” her title refers to “bruxing” the term given to the compulsive grinding of a horse’s teeth.

 New Works by Allison Sommers

New Works by Allison Sommers

New Works by Allison Sommers

New Works by Allison Sommers

Interview with Curiot for “Act 1: Warped Passage”

interview with curiot

Thinkspace Gallery is proud to present Curiot’s solo exhibition Act 1: Warped Passages, in the gallery’s main room. In anticipation for the show, we have an exclusive interview with Curiot that is a soundbite into the artist’s mind. Short and sweet; discover the inspiration behind the show, a symbolic day in the studio, and what he wishes was invented.

SH: Last year in an interview with The Hundreds, you go into detail about your California upbringing and wanting to move to Mexico, care to share some of that story with our readers here?
C: Yeah, after high school I wasn’t doing much so I decided to move back to Mexico and ended up studying art.

Curiot New Work

Curiot New Work

SH: You’ve mentioned that you’re outside environment and Mexican culture strongly inspires your work, is your studio a blank slate or do you surround yourself with inspiration within the studio as well?
C: I just go with the flow with whatever interests me at the moment. The work itself takes me down different paths, just try to stay open as possible.

SH: What is the inspiration or narrative behind the current exhibition?
C: The strangeness of life and this question of what is real, are we all just part one highly elaborate simulation? Some little kids project from some super advanced race haha.

Curiot New Work

SH: A handful of your pieces involve mixed media and elements of folk art, like weaving or carpentry, did you collaborate on those pieces or teach yourself the trades?
C: I like to make everything myself but there are some exceptions, like the pieces I’ve made in the past that incorporate knitting, my friend Julieta helped me out with that. I try to learn as many skills as I can so I have full control over the creative process.

SH: What does a day in the studio look like?
C: Like a leaf in a pond

Curiot New Work

SH: Your pieces involve a lot of detail from subtle shifts in tones and to different patterns, is it safe to say your process is almost meditative?
C: Very, it’s what I love the most, the loss of time and the thought process that surges from that state.

SH: Favorite Mexican folktale?
C: Popol Vuh, so good!

Curiot New Work

SH: The beasts in your work possess a god like quality and interaction with the human-like figures in your work, can you elaborate on the dynamic of these creatures to the rest of the world they inhabit? Or outline what their presence symbolizes?
C: Always considered them as creatures from the spirit realm.

SH: Favorite Color?
C: It’s always fluctuating, right now it’s lavender before it was indigo haha

SH: What do you wish was invented? Would it help your artwork, your life, or the world?
C: A real fucking spaceship! None of this rocket bs. Let’s see what’s out there!

Curiot New Work

Please join us this Saturday, May 28th from 6-9pm for the Opening Reception of Act 1: Warped Passage. The show will not only feature a collection of new paintings but two new digital editions and an adventurous installation component, including musical accompaniment from Franz (Pira MD Records).   To catch a sneak peak of what is happening inside the gallery, add us on snapchat at thinkspace_art , as we’ve already shared Curiot shopping through yards and yards of brightly colored fabric. What could he be making?

 

NOTCOT covers Matthew Grabelsky’s “Underground”

Notcot Grabelsky Feature

Design and lifestyle site NotCot.com featured Matthew Grabelsky’s “Underground” as an exhibit one must see. Grabelsky’s solo exhibition in the Thinkspace Gallery project room is on view until May 21st, Tuesday through Saturday noon to 6pm.

View the full write up on their website.

“His surreal/realistic oil paintings of NYC subway riders reading magazines (and kid’s books) are stunning with a twist… all males are animals! If only they had prints of some of these paintings, the whole show is too stunning to pick from, though Canal Street (tiger reading Car and Driver) is my current favorite…” -NotCot.com

Interview with Matthew Grabelsky for “Underground”

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Thinkspace Gallery is proud to present Matthew Grabelsky’s first solo exhibition with us, Underground, in the gallery’s project room. In anticipation of the show we have an exclusive interview with Matthew Grabelsky sharing with us insight into the anthropomorphic nature of his work, the special place a subway holds in society, and his artistic influences.

Please tell us a lil’ bit about your background?
I come from an artistic family (Father – film and television producer; Mother – dancer), so I’ve been making art for as long as I can remember. I was fortunate that my parents always encouraged and supported me in it. In college, I studied both art and science, and I graduated with a BS in Astrophysics and a BA in Art & Art History. Although I chose to pursue an artistic career, I have found that my scientific background has influenced my work significantly. My paintings are highly technical, and I often employ a scientific, analytical approach (knowledge of light, perspective, physics, etc.) in creating my images, both in terms of conception and execution. After graduating from college, I moved to Florence, Italy, where I spent four years studying representational painting. Afterward, I lived in Paris for several years, where I continued to paint and studied from the vast troves of art in the Paris museums. I currently reside in Los Angeles.

Matthew Grabelsky Franklin Street

Why the representational use of animal heads in your work?
I’ve always loved animals and mythology, as a result of being exposed extensively to both as a child. My parents were always taking me to the zoo and spent tons of time reading all kinds of stories to me. As I grew older, I became enthralled with the ways in which mythologies from different cultures make use of animal and animal-human hybrid characters to symbolize the mysterious nature of the subconscious.

These creatures in my paintings serve to inject an element of surrealism into one of the most commonplace experiences of life and of New York (e.g., public transportation). The characters are symbolic of the kinds of thoughts that lie under the surface of people’s minds, and they reveal that the most extraordinary can exist in the most ordinary of everyday settings. This theme is communicated through the juxtaposition of these ostensibly irrational images with otherwise completely mundane scenes. My idea is that my creatures are not original but are ultimately part of a much larger cultural continuum. My paintings are not intended to be explicit fantasy; rather, they are representations of the subconscious on which viewers are invited to form their own interpretations.

Couples seem to play an important role in your work. Care to elaborate?
In an image of a pair of people, the body language and the relationship of a couple are momentarily frozen. I am fascinated by the story-telling possibilities that spring from this moment.

WIP Matthew Grabelsky Underground

Any significance to the fact your subjects are often times found reading?
I like to have my subjects reading (magazines, newspapers, books, smart phones) because that provides a vivid and detailed point of interest in the painting, from which I create an entrance into the narrative that is taking place between the couple. Sometimes I’ll choose more serious fare like The New Yorker or The New York Times, and sometimes I’ll choose something from contemporary pop culture, like Cosmopolitan or GQ; the choice depends on the subject matter. I love to juxtapose the medium of a very polished and refined oil painting with the momentary, disposable pop culture that is represented by the reading material. The result is a fascinating mixture of high-brow and low-brow.

The magazines, in particular, are kind of amazing from a very base psychological standpoint; even if you think they are ridiculous, the covers are vividly designed with color, images, and text that grab your attention. You can’t not look at them at the check-out counter at the supermarket. In a sense, they similarly utilize the heightened visual language that I use in creating paintings that attempt to grab viewers and bring them into the world of my paintings.

Why do only the men have animal heads in your paintings?
My paintings are very personal. Therefore, I enter them through the perspective of a man, and I imagine scenes through a man’s eyes. The male figure is my avatar, while I view the female figure externally. The female figures are representative of the different women in my life. People have asked if I am saying that all men are animals. That is not my intention. If you look into world mythologies, you will discover that it is almost always the male who has an animal head. Two examples that come to mind are the bull-headed minotaur in Greek mythology and Ganesh, with an elephant head, in Indian mythology. Thus, I believe that representing the male with an animal head furthers my goal of tying my paintings into the larger continuum of world mythology.

Matthew Grabelsky Houston Street. Underground

How do you choose your models?
My models are all friends and family members. I really enjoy working with people I know well, because that helps me to capture a sense of realism in my characters. Using actual couples provides a kind of dynamism, which comes from the manners in which the couples pose. Generally, I’ll give them some instructions on what I want them to be doing, but the real spark comes from how they react to each other and their particular body language.

How do you choose the animal that you’ll feature?
I have my models pose in my studio, and I shoot a bunch of reference photos. Then, I review the photos and pick the most interesting ones. Sometimes I’ll have had a particular idea in mind for the painting, along with which animal I want to use. Other times, a certain pose, expression, look, gesture, or item of clothing will suggest a specific animal. There are times during which I’ll try several different animals, and then one will just pop.

Matthew Grabelsky Subway WIP

Why have you chosen the subway as your setting?
The subway is the circulatory system of New York. It’s a place where everyone comes together. No matter who you are, you will be on the subway at some point during the day. It is iconic and instantly recognizable. I grew up in New York, and I spent countless hours riding the subway. Although I live in Los Angeles now, my imagination puts me back on those trains whenever I think of my past. I often visit New York, but I find that painting these scenes while I am away from there gives me a form of clarity and allows me to reflect on that inspiration and organize it into my subway scenes. Memory is essential to my process; as an artist, I take different elements from my memory and combine them in an image.

Any major influences you care to share?
I draw a great deal of influence from painters and filmmakers who mix surrealism with realism. A few painters that have an outsize influence in my work are Arnold Böcklin and John William Waterhouse – both 19th-century artists – particularly because of the naturalism (rather than an allegorical approach) with which they paint mythological subjects. As for filmmakers, my absolute favorites are Terry Gilliam (12 Monkeys), Guillermo del Toro (Pan’s Labyrinth), and David Lynch (Mulholland Drive).

Additionally, I am always looking at imagery wherever I go (ads, billboards, magazines, film, etc.), and I draw ideas from everything I see.

Matthew Grabelsky Lincoln Center Underground

Care to elaborate any more on your style and technique?
My technique is highly realistic and heavily influenced by my studies of 19th-century academic and naturalist painters. These methods appeal to me, because of their rigorous approaches to accurately capturing visual appearances. Using those paintings as a jumping-off point, I’ve developed a visual language that allows me to create personal contemporary compositions. While people often describe my work as hyperrealist, my goal is to portray light, form, and texture very realistically but not to the level of microscopic detail, such as the pores of the skin.

I chose this technique because I want to depict my surrealistic elements in a manner that is so realistic that you feel like you are actually sitting on the subway with these creatures; even though they are fantastical, the realism and candor with which they are painted makes you forget that fact. At the same time, I arrange the figures, backgrounds, and colors in specific ways, in order to provide the sense of a heightened moment. It is like a snapshot that just happens to capture the moment when everything lines up perfectly. My paintings are executed in oil and currently I paint on panels.

Matthew Grabelsky WIP 3 Underground

Please join us this Saturday, April 30th from 6-9pm for the opening reception of Matthew Grabelsky’s, “Underground.” All additional information on the exhibition can be found on the Thinkspace Gallery website.

Upcoming at Thinkspace Gallery, Matthew Grabelsky’s Project Room Solo Exhibition “Underground”

Grabelsky Ad

Matthew Grabelsky: Underground
April 30, 2016 – May 21, 2016

Concurrently on view in the Thinkspace project room is Underground, featuring new oil paintings by Los Angeles-based artist Matthew Grabelsky. His works combine a hyperrealistic painting technique with a surreal penchant for unlikely juxtapositions. Raised in New York City, Grabelsky uses its subway’s underground world as the setting for his unlikely pairings.

Grabelsky’s works depict couples on subways, often nonchalantly reading magazines or newspapers, but the male figures in these dyads are strange, quasi-mythological human hybrids with animal heads. Deer, bears, elephants, tigers, and everything in between, make a suited appearance in rush hour. By contrasting the platitudes of the day-to-day with the presence of the extraordinary and unlikely, Grabelsky stages the unexpected within the most unassuming of circumstances.

The appearance of the animal head feels distantly totemic, an archetype for something primordial, ancient, and psychologically motivated. Fascinated by the persistence of animal imagery in mythology and communal cultural imaginaries, Grabelsky superimposes its presence onto his depictions of the contemporary world. For the artist, the animal becomes a manifestation of the inner workings of the hidden subconscious, literally revealing the latent identities and motivations lurking beyond the composure of the human mask.

Technically inspired by 19th Century academic and naturalist painters, Grabelsky creates these unlikely, surreal scenes with a staggering degree of realistic detail. The contrast created between the visual verisimilitude of the works, and the surreal improbability of their content catches the viewer in a prolonged moment of convincingly suspended disbelief.

Matthew Grabelsky Postcard