Interviews

Shigeki Matsuyama returns to StolenSpace Gallery with his new solo show 'Quiet Circulation' bringing together works that meditate on our everyday encounters with images and information.

Last time we worked together was in 2024 for your solo exhibition Portraits of Dazzle. How has your practice developed since then?

 

 

'Quiet Circulation' runs until March 15th, 2026. 

To Request a list of available works, please click here.

View show in 3D here.

A reflection of his experiences, Keya Tama’s practice unites his heritage and personal allegories with ancient iconographies and modern folklore, to create a body of work that is minimalistic in form yet loaded with symbolism. 

Surrounded by art and creativity from the minute he was born, it’s no surprise that Keya Tama was a practicing artist and muralist from a very young age. Influenced by the artistic communities and sub-cultures that his parents, street artist Faith XLVII and tattoo artist Tyler B. Murphy, were part of, Keya had exhibited his own work and published a graphic novel before his thirteenth birthday. From there, he began to develop his own distinct voice, through travelling with his mother, absorbing diverse global influences and engaging with artistic communities across the globe. 

A reflection of his experiences, Keya Tama’s practice unites his heritage and personal allegories with ancient iconographies and modern folklore, to create a body of work that is minimalistic in form yet loaded with symbolism. Using pastel colours and motifs of people, animals and nature to tell stories of past and present, Keya’s work moves beyond personal expression, creating a visual language that maps collective histories, bridges modernity and tradition and explores the universal rhythm of human experience. 

The Three Goodbyes explores a journey of departure, confrontation and return. What first inspired you to examine this narrative? What are you trying to communicate with your audience?

The show is very much inspired by a lot of my community in terms of the artists I know, who have moved from their home countries, resettled, and then moved many times since. This kind of transient experience of living and making homes again and again, having this collective community that’s all spread out. It’s an experience of joy and excitement, but also it’s quite a difficult thing to piece together. It’s quite a relatable experience that I share with a lot of my friends and collaborators, so it definitely ties into that.

Since beginning your practice, you have worked under various monikers - Jack Fox, Cashril Plus - later deciding to go by your given name. What made you take this decision, and how does it speak to the journey of leaving behind the familiar, seeking the challenge of uncertainty and returning home with renewed understanding, that is traced throughout this exhibition?

 My very early work was very inspired by my parents who were deep into graffiti, so my initial names were inspired by that. I had more street art influences and alter egos that resembled that sort of more contemporary street art scene. As I got older, I wanted to be able to give myself room to make work that was more personal. I think having my name - Keya Tama is actually my first and middle name, so there’s still a separation between myself and the work, but it is a lot more personal. It’s nice to have that and I feel I can explore many mediums without restriction.

As a multidisciplinary artist, is there a particular medium you are most drawn to, or one you are interested in exploring in the future?

 So I am very inspired by ceramics. I just did a residency with the Royal Delft Museum and it reinvigorated my interest in the medium, so I am looking into doing more of that, as well as tapestry work and wood carvings. I imagine collaborating with people more and more, in multiple directions. I’m especially interested in doing more tile installations with murals and want my murals to have more three-dimensionality.

How have the various countries, cultures and artists you have interacted with throughout your life influenced your practice and the art you create?

 Since a young age, I was travelling a lot because of my mum who is a muralist. I would go on these different trips and every time I felt like there was something that stayed with me. Over time you realise it was these loose links of fragments of the past, all these ephemeral things that were starting to disappear, especially art that had such warmth to it. Just as time moves fast, I’m more drawn to subtlety of the past and contrasting that with elements of contemporary design. To me that kind of balance, having a yin and yang to express something, that can hold more subtle emotions and distill them.

A large focus of The Three Goodbyes is the idea of connection, collaboration and belonging. Could you tell us about some previous collaborations, and how they have influenced the way you approach art-making?

Collaboration has been a huge part of my practice since I was young, and a huge part of that is inspired by my parents [Faith XVII and Tyler B. Murphy] who are very community focused and have grown a lot because of who they’ve collaborated with throughout their lives. It’s quite fitting that they’re both included in this show, alongside my studio-mate Kevin Cincotta and Elléna Lourens and Joshua Martel and Angel Lopez, who are such great artists. It’s quite a warm feeling having that element to the show too, to resemble these people who have meant a lot to me and influenced my practice.

How does music inform your practice? What do you typically listen to when creating work both in the street and in the studio?

 Whenever I travel I always try to find old music from that area, so a lot of underground youth-culture bands that show the newness of things that exist. Besides that I listen to a lot of audio books and philosophy books - primarily Carl Jung and a lot of Murakami books. They’re really nice for encapsulating a long period of time within a project, so that you feel like there's another layer to reality. I’m really inspired by South African music too, especially since leaving, as it’s a nice way to feel connected to things that are happening.

Through my paintings, I'm trying to break down any boundaries between digital aesthetics and the analogue historical tropes of oil painting. I like challenging the dichotomy, as the digital screens slip onto the canvas and back again. 

Looking back at our group exhibition 'Rendered Reality' we sat down with some of the exhibiting artists to talk about some of the running themes in the exhibition. 

How does digital technology influence your creative process, and at what stage does the transition from digital to physical typically occur?

Digital technology has always informed my practice. It is often the first step in my painting process, whether beginning with a photograph, a digital collage, or more recently, AI and algorithmically generated imagery. Once I've mocked the painting up digitally, I mark it up on a canvas and begin the painting process.

In what ways do you see your work contributing to or challenging the boundaries between traditional painting and digital aesthetics?

Painting, particularly oil painting, is such an analogue process consisting of organic mediums and tools. The process of applying minerals and pigments from the earth to a naturally grown cotton or linen canvas with a brush made from wood and animal hair could not be more of an analogue process. I have always been interested in how this process remains to be not only culturally relevant, but a significantly culturally dominant art form in such a digitally driven and tech based society. Through my paintings, I'm trying to break down any boundaries between digital aesthetics and the analogue historical tropes of oil painting. I like challenging the dichotomy, as the digital screens slip onto the canvas and back again. 

What role do you think digital mediums like CGI, 3D, and AI play in reshaping the boundaries of traditional art? Do you see digital media as an extension of traditional craftsmanship or something entirely different?

 Artist's have always been early adopters of new technologies, exploring their possibilities and utilising them in ways that they were not necessarily initially designed for. Creative applications of technologies is a very useful and unconventional way of exploring new tech and its boundaries, as well as exploring its functions and associated ethics. It is also a mutually beneficial relationship, where new technology creates new aesthetics and becomes another tool to be used in the studio to help realise conceptual frameworks and develop new work. 

 

 

Your work moves between analogue and digital modes—what draws you to explore the tension or harmony between these two realms?

I feel there is a slippery harmony between analogue and digital modes of image making. A jpeg on a screen has the same flatness and aesthetics as a painting on canvas, just as easily as the painting can be digitalised into a jpeg on the screen. I think the relationship between the two is an obvious evolution of painting in the digital age. The tension I like to explore is painting's ability to allow the viewer to slow down and contemplate a single image in such a fast based stimulating world driven by mass digital image consumption. The analogue output of painting, particularly when viewed in a gallery context, encourages a much longer contemplation and experience of an image then what exists online.

 

 

How do you navigate the balance between precision often associated with digital tools and the tactile imperfections of traditional, hand-painted techniques?

 I believe it is paintings hand made quality, both in process and aesthetics, that gives the medium its continued relevance in contemporary culture. There is an innate value to the hand made object, and painting lends itself to a rejection of technology in its process. The tactile imperfections of a painting are to be embraced, and I often find myself getting up close to paintings to see the hand of the artist and mark making. It's also an interesting process transferring AI generated images and textures onto a canvas with paint.

 

 

I’m interested in how visual “mistakes” generated by algorithms can become emotionally charged once they’re rendered in material form. 

Looking back at our group exhibition 'Rendered Reality' we sat down with some of the exhibiting artists to talk about some of the running themes in the exhibition. 

How does digital technology influence your creative process, and at what stage does the transition from digital to physical typically occur?

Digital technology is a fundamental tool in my creative process. Since the beginning of my career as an illustrator and designer, I’ve worked extensively with digital programs. I like having tools available for every stage of the process — from the initial idea to the final piece. Even so, I always start with hand-drawn sketches; that gesture remains essential to me.

What gives me confidence today is precisely the combination of digital and manual work. I use AI as a starting point — not as an end in itself — to explore visual errors, glitches, and distortions. I digitally manipulate these images until I find something that resonates emotionally or conceptually. That’s when the transition to the physical begins: I turn those visuals into paintings, stained glass, weavings, or sculptures. This isn’t a simple translation — it’s a reinterpretation through matter. Making the image tangible gives it new life, and the act of working with different materials makes this entire process much more exciting.

In what ways do you see your work contributing to or challenging the boundaries between traditional painting and digital aesthetics?

 Where do you gather source materials and references for your work? Can you share a specific digital tool, software, or aesthetic that has shaped your recent practice?**

Right now, my creative process is deeply shaped by dream experiences and my relationship with medicinal plants. These experiences generate internal images and narratives — sometimes poems, haikus, or short stories — which I then distill down to a core image or idea. That image is what I feed into AI, using it as a base to begin shaping the visual language.

 

The glitch, the error, the unstable — these are key aesthetics for me. I work with digital results as a starting point and then begin translating them into physical media: painting, stained glass, textiles, sculpture. I’m interested in how visual “mistakes” generated by algorithms can become emotionally charged once they’re rendered in material form. I believe my work challenges and contributes to the dialogue between traditional painting and digital aesthetics by allowing both to coexist and inform each other.

 

For me, materializing digital images is a way of grounding the virtual in the body. That friction — between the perfection of the machine and the imperfection of the hand — is where the work comes alive.

What does “Rendered Reality” mean to you personally, and how does your work reflect this evolving relationship between the virtual and the tangible world?

 “Rendered Reality” evokes that ambiguous space where the virtual becomes material — and vice versa. In my practice, that transition is always present. I often begin with imagined images — surreal landscapes, flowers, cacti — which I develop through AI. These digital images, often dreamlike or uncanny, are then transformed into physical objects loaded with texture, time, and human imperfection.

 

I’m especially interested in how the intangible — like a glitch or distortion created by an algorithm — can gain a spiritual or emotional quality when translated into stained glass or tapestry. For me, materializing digital images is a way of grounding the virtual in the body. That friction — between the perfection of the machine and the imperfection of the hand — is where the work comes alive.

 

What role do you think digital mediums like CGI, 3D, and AI play in reshaping the boundaries of traditional art? Do you see digital media as an extension of traditional craftsmanship or something entirely different?

Looking back at her first solo exhibition at StolenSpace Gallery, we caught up with Goto to discuss her creative process, childhood dreams and the cultural and spiritual beliefs that imbue her practice with presence and meaning.

For artist Goto Atsuko, painting itself is a form of dreaming. Her time studying in Paris (2007-2009) and the profound impact of witnessing the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake greatly inform her practice. In her imagined landscapes, she reflects on cultural virtues of selflessness, resignation, and obedience that, beneath their quiet surface, carry an undertow of desperation. 

Her compositions unfold as beautifully unsettling visions: ghostly figures entwined with nature, embodiments of the emotions that move beneath both the conscious and unconscious mind. Dark tones pierce through muted palettes, underlining the transience and fragility of life, and at the heart of these spectral worlds are guuzou: idols, empty vessels onto which desires, prayers, and curses are projected. While some may worship talents or virtual characters in today’s rapidly shifting culture, these objects remain only variations of the same empty guuzou. Like the dream that unfolds beyond conscious control, the guuzou resists alteration: loved, feared, yet forever untouchable.

What does your creative process look like? Could you walk us through the journey of a piece, from its initial spark to completion?

 I usually take notes on things that interest me, words that catch my eye, events close to me, and news from Japan and abroad. I think about what moves me emotionally and inspiringly. When I decide to paint something, sometimes I have a clear theme, and other times it's vague.

 I search for ornaments, weapons, and clothing from art museum archives around the world, mixing and arranging pieces from various regions and eras to incorporate them into my paintings. As I paint, I consider the overall balance, adding elements and thinking about colours. 

Either way, I start by drawing a rough sketch. Then, erasing and painting, I search for a way to connect with my sensibilities and see if what emerges on the canvas resonates with my sensations at that time. If I feel something is good, I begin painting without deciding on the details, incorporating my current sensations into the painting. I decide the details as I paint. Because I paint by soaking the paint into the fabric, it is impossible to completely erase the paint once it has been applied, but because I work with very diluted paint, I can make corrections as I go. I make watercolours by mixing pigments with gum arabic. Increasing the amount of gum arabic allows me to create transparent layers of colour. In addition to synthetic pigments, I also make paints using natural mineral pigments (powder made from crushed rocks, which has coarse particles and good colour development), as well as gold and silver powder. I also use paint refined from real lapis lazuli, carefully layering it to create a thin film to create the texture of the figures' skin. (I prepare a lot of paint in advance and dissolve it in water only as needed.) I search for ornaments, weapons, and clothing from art museum archives around the world, mixing and arranging pieces from various regions and eras to incorporate them into my paintings. As I paint, I consider the overall balance, adding elements and thinking about colours. I'm not sure if it's finished, but I consider a piece to be complete when I feel like I can't paint any more.

What do you listen to when you’re in the studio - music, silence, or something  else? Are there any artists or sounds that influence your creative atmosphere?

 When I'm creating, the music I listen to changes depending on the stage of the painting. I often prefer complete silence at the beginning, but when I'm working on the long, detailed parts of the final stages of production, I often listen to up-tempo music like pop, or anime or dramas (with a lot of auditory information and dialogue). I also listen to storytelling on podcasts or the radio. When I find music that syncs with the work I'm drawing, I sometimes listen to it over and over again. I discovered the music of J.A. Caesar (the composer who worked on film and stage music for Shuji Terayama) when I was in junior high school, and it had a big impact on me, and I still listen to it today. I also listened to a lot of classical music when I was younger. I particularly like Stravinsky's "The Soldier's Tale." I also often listen to piano pieces by Chopin and Debussy.

Your chosen materials and application methods give an ethereal, almost translucent quality to your work. Could you talk about a specific piece where you explored this approach, how you arrived at it, and what aspect of working in this way you most enjoyed?

I began painting oil paintings in high school in preparation for the entrance exams to Japanese art university. I continued painting oils throughout college, but at some point, I began using them as if they were water-based paints. After studying art materials in the Tokyo University of Arts and studying abroad in France (Ecole des Beaux-art de Paris), I came into contact with a variety of materials and one day, by chance, discovered the technique of painting with watercolours on cotton fabric. This technique perfectly suited my temperament and nature, and it gave me a mysterious confidence that simply painting would become "my own painting." It's incredibly exciting and moving to witness the phenomena that occur when the cotton fibres, water and paint particles, and my own senses intertwine.

I believe that everything is two sides of the same coin. Life and death, hope and despair may seem like two opposing things, but I see them as one. I want to express things that contain opposing things.

Your figures personify dreams, passions, prayers, and even curses. How do these inner experiences - whether a dream you’ve had, or a prayer or curse you’ve released - manifest in your work? Could you share one that has lingered with you, perhaps even from childhood, and how it continues to shape your artistic practice?

 I've loved drawing since I was a child. Rather than playing outside and exercising, I preferred to immerse myself in the world of art. As a teenager, I became interested in anime and manga, tried my hand at drawing, and was inspired by my friends who also loved to draw. My family relationships were a bit complicated, so I think drawing was a way to release the resentment, hatred, anger, and frustration I was harbouring. I think drawing was more of a salvation for me than I realised. I've had dreams from time to time since I was a child. A common pattern was that I would visit a theme park-like place with family or friends that I'd visited as a child but didn't quite remember, and then I would suddenly find myself alone, searching for everyone but unable to find them. Another memorable dream was one in which I don't remember the details of the dream, but it was so comfortable that I woke up with the absolute desire not to return to reality (not to wake up). Experiences like this sparked my interest in the mysterious human activity of dreaming, and I became drawn to works that had dreams as their theme.

 

Your work examines the balance of existence: beauty and decay, hope and despair, life and death. How do you see the goddess of creation and death reflected in your practice, and what draws you to this duality?

 I believe that everything is two sides of the same coin. Life and death, hope and despair may seem like two opposing things, but I see them as one. I want to express things that contain opposing things.

 

 

Solitude and emptiness are central themes in your practice. Do you see these as pathways toward connection or spiritual reflection, and in what ways has Shinto shaped how you perceive and depict the world in your art?

 I don't belong to any particular religion, but I think it's true that I naturally incorporate the spirituality of Shinto and Buddhism. Unlike monotheistic religions, in which everything converges around an absolute centre, Shinto is said to have a spirituality in which the centre is empty, yet everything continues to revolve around that empty centre. The characters I paint are not depicting anyone; they are depicted as beings who could be anyone, but at the same time, no one. I believe that the vague, dream-like settings without a clear purpose or conclusion are an expression of these values.

 

Often, the figures in your work are women. What role do women play in your cosmology, and why do they carry these prayers, dreams, and burdens in your work?

 Perhaps the biggest reason I paint many women is because I am a woman myself. My works are not self-portraits, but all could be described as "self-portrait-like." Women are "just living creatures" just like men, but I grew up feeling anger, pain, and dissatisfied with the social status and role of women in modern society, and these feelings continue to this day. I want to resist the absurdity of such a society, and I think that is reflected in the characters in my works.

We sat down to talk with Spanish artist duo PichiAvo on their solo exhibition 'Chromata', their new mural in London and exploring innovative techniques.

This exhibition marks your return to London after 7 years. How does it feel to be back?

Avo: London was the first city that truly believed in us so coming back is always special. Our last show with StolenSpace was in 2020 but we couldn’t attend due to the pandemic that's why this return feels even more meaningful. This time we're coming back with a new body of work and new techniques that we're really excited to show –  it's been two years since we started the first piece.

Pichi: London was the city where we first had the opportunity to show our art, it always makes us happy to return to London and share our new techniques and evolution.

What was it like painting the mural in Wandsworth?

Avo: We always enjoy painting, especially when we share our new concepts. It's an enriching process where we learn a lot and the audience can see how the mural comes to life, from the graffiti background to the classical character. This time, it's inspired by "Discobolus," a Greek sculpture hosted in the British Museum, which is our way of connecting the work to the place where we are.

Pichi: It was interesting to show the evolution on our work. It's also always nice to see people's reactions as they pass by and look at it.

We like the idea of ​​uncovering what's already there, but hidden, like when you look at old painted shop windows, or walls full of layers, and history.

It would be great to talk about a specific work in more detail. Is there a piece in this exhibition that you feel is essential to your practice, and why?

 Avo: In Chromata we present the Krystallika Chromata series. A new technique we have developed whilst keeping our usual drawing style, though this time we were inspired from what we see on the streets, especially shop front windows. It's like an archaeological act: when you remove something, something new appears. We like the idea of ​​uncovering what's already there, but hidden, like when you look at old painted shop windows, or walls full of layers, and history.

Pichi: All the pieces have something interesting,  from the play with colors and gradients to the compositions.

This body of work is an exploration of the presence and absence of colour. Could you talk more about this chromatic contrast?

Avo: We don't see presence and absence, or colour and greyscale as opposites. We look for the balance between all the elements: the colour, graffiti, and the classical figure. We want the viewer to see everything on the same level. We don't try to make the figure more important than the graffiti or the colour, because for us, everything exists together. We invite people to follow the colors and experience the work the same way we do.

Pichi: It’s a study of colour on how it changes when placed on grey, inspired by the Flemish technique.

In the end what matters to us is staying true to our essence adapting our new language to any surface or scale while keeping the same spirit that defines our work. 

Can you explain the role of scale in your work? For example, the glass works are smaller than the paintings - what difference does scale have on an artwork?

 Avo: The challenge is always to keep your essence no matter the size, it's about knowing how to apply the techniques according to the surface you're working on. In the case of the glass pieces even though it's something new for us and the technique is new, the style is very connected to our drawing on paper, so we managed to keep our essence even with the change on the surface. In the end, what matters to us is staying true to our essence adapting our new language to any surface or scale while we're keeping the same spirit that defines our work. 

 View 'Chromata' exhibition here.

 

Connor Gottfried on the rebellious act of 'play', reconnecting with the child within us. 

You have previously cited various influences on your creative journey: the Apple II computer brought home by your dad in 1982, books on BASIC programming, and even the punk music scene. Could you share how you progressed from an interest in computation to where you are now?

 It has definitely been a winding path.  When I first saw what a computer could do when I was 5 years old, my mind was absolutely blown.  I discovered that I had an ability to understand and work with computers right away and my brothers and I started programming simple games as jokes.  At an early age, I saw computers as a fun and powerful creative tool, and that laid the foundation for me as an artist. 

 In my teenage years I lost interest in computers and my focus turned towards skateboarding, snowboarding and music.  The skateboarding scene had such a vibrant and rebellious culture and we’d watch VHS copies of the early skate videos and, through this, were exposed to so much great music and art.  Skateboarding was free, playful, rebellious and unconcerned with rules – this really resonated with me.  We started a punk band when I was a teenager and in my 20s this evolved into an improv band that incorporated punk, jazz, psych, hip-hop, and electronic into genre-mashing tracks.  We’d record long stretches of improvisation and then I would edit the material into finished songs.  We ended up releasing 25 albums in total and some of them did well on Canadian college radio.  We toured Europe/UK in 2007 (played Manchester, Leeds, Brussels and Berlin) and this work really informed my current process of combining improvisation with computer editing when making art.  

My recent works may seem quite structured (computer-cut aluminum for example), but the process to arrive at this stage is definitely one of improvisation and experimentation.  I love the interplay between computer-controlled accuracy and hand-made imperfection.

How long does it typically take to finish a piece? Could you walk us through the process from ideation to creation?

 The full process to take a piece from initial inspiration to completed work usually takes about a month.  I always try to stay open in my daily life to new ideas and write down a lot of notes when I have something interesting.  Once I have a concept, I work and rework it in Photoshop until it does justice to the initial vision.  This can involve scraping paint or glueing paper to canvases and then photographing these elements and working them back in to the digital design.  I’m inspired by early pop-art like Bridget Riley so I often use patterns like Blaze 1 (1962) or I may incorporate mathematical constructs like Wolfram’s Rule 30 (which symbolizes the creation of complexity from simple steps).  At this point, I’ll bring the layers into After Effects so I can make the project 3D and I can spin it around to look at it from all angles to see how the layers interact.  I’ll iterate back and forth until I’m satisfied and then I prepare the final files for printing and cutting into the elements used in the physical piece.  The pieces either get printed on aluminum composite panelling and CNC-cut or printed on acrylic and laser-cut.  Once I have everything ready to go, the final stage is to router and fold the aluminum (for the cardboard box pieces), assemble everything, glue and insert the electronics. 

 I think error is an amazing teacher – failures, bugs and crashes force us to discover the unexpected, improvise and stay open to change. 

As technology becomes more predictive and personalized, what do you think we risk losing in our relationship to randomness, error, and surprise?

 This is a fascinating question.  I think error is an amazing teacher – failures, bugs and crashes force us to discover the unexpected, improvise and stay open to change.  The online personalization that we’re seeing now shows us only what we want to see, but we need unexpected information to be introduced so that we can continually re-evaluate our world views and belief systems.  Randomness is the mechanism that allows new things to happen (biological evolution for starters) and so if we end up with a form of algorithmic solipsism we lose the ability to incorporate new viewpoints and grow as people.  Surprise is an emotion that reminds us that things aren’t always what the seem.  It’s especially important in these current times to remember that even the most powerful systems of oppression and mind-control contain cracks that can be exploited.

Play is a form of rebellion against manipulation and brings us back towards our true selves. 

Can you speak to the idea of ‘play’ as both a personal memory and a political act, particularly in an era when digital leisure time is often commodified or gamified?

For me, play is about freedom, creativity and joy. I think that I first realized that play was a political act when I was skateboarding as a teenager. Some of the powerful people and groups in our town tried to stop us from skateboarding by getting the police to harass us.  In the current climate, I feel that play is a rebellious rejection of rules and conformity at a time when digital systems (from social media to news media) are being designed to control us and create a constant state of fear. This is no accident, fear has a powerful, disruptive effect on brain function, especially when it comes to executive function. The prefrontal cortex gets partially shut down during fear states, reducing our ability to make rational decisions and to engage in perspective-taking. Essentially, it makes us more prone to emotional manipulation. Play is the antidote to fear. It's not just fun, it transitions us into a state of connection, creativity, and regulation. It returns us to a more balanced emotional landscape, one where we are likely to make very different political decisions. Play is a form of rebellion against manipulation and brings us back towards our true selves. 

When contextualising Haters you reference The Language of Emotions by Klara McLaren. How much time do you typically spend reading and researching throughout your creative process? Are there any books or texts that you could recommend for those interested in diving deeper into your work?

 I read a lot, sometimes related to topics I reference in my work and sometimes not.  I think reading is a really important tool for an artist as it allows you to explore, in rich detail, the experiences of other people. It's a great tool of empathy and it's so mind expanding. If someone would like to understand my work on a deeper level, one book I would recommend would be “Connections” by James Burke.  This book explores the connected and surprising ways that inventions, discoveries, and ideas are linked across time. It suggests that innovation doesn’t follow a straight line, but it unfolds when the conditions are right—when the world is ready for it. Reading this helped me view technological innovations not as isolated leaps, but as part of a larger web of influence, and that continues to shape how I think about the patterns and connections in my own work.

I would love for visitors to stand in front of the pieces, play the games and not just remember, but to feelwhat it was like to play as a child.

 

 Do you believe we’re in a moment where the boundary between artist and technologist is dissolving? And if so, what new roles or responsibilities do artists have in shaping future tech?

 Yes, as we become somewhat augmented by technological tools, the boundary is blurring.  That said, I think it’s important to remember that the technology is just another tool in our journey as artists to create or explore meaning.  Technology is a powerful tool though, and I think artists are attracted to the possibilities it offers both in the creation and the dissemination of art.  I think artists have always played a critical role in shaping technology – science fiction writers, for example, have had a profound effect on shaping the direction technology has taken over the last hundred years.  Science fiction has always been a kind of blueprint for what’s possible. It’s inspired inventors, scientists, and engineers who later bring to life what they saw in science fiction as children. I’m an avid science fiction reader and this has definitely informed my work as well.

What do you want visitors to take away from Play II?

 I would love for visitors to stand in front of the pieces, play the games and not just remember, but to feelwhat it was like to play as a child. If they can reconnect with that and take a little piece of it back into their everyday lives, I'd be really happy.

View PlayII exhibition here

Kai Clements "aka" Kai & Sunny, shared how he captures that intangible field we all exist within - The one shaped by thought, emotion and presence. 

1. Could you walk us through a typical day in your studio? Do you have a routine, ritual or playlist that helps you get in a creative headspace?

"I live near the sea and stepping away for a walk is part of the process. That reset — the shift in light, the sound of the tide — often unlocks something unexpected."

2. How do you interpret the idea of “human frequencies” and how did that concept find visual form in your pieces?

“Human frequencies” speak to the invisible rhythms that move through and between us — emotional pulses, internal vibrations, even collective states of being. I’m interested in the unseen forces that connect people: intuition, mood, tension, harmony."

3. Were there any specific materials, motifs, or techniques you used in this show that were new or experimental for you?

"The line work mimics the patterns found in wind currents, tidal flows, plant growth — things that evolve over time and hold a kind of quiet power."

4. In what ways does your art serve as a medium for exploring the way nature influences the human psyche?    

5. Would you consider this exhibition a call to action, a reflection, or something else entirely?

6. What message or feeling do you hope visitors walk away with after experiencing Human - Nature?

"Human – Nature explores the unseen energy that flows through people, environments, and emotions. It invites viewers to slow down, tune in, and consider how deeply connected we are — not just to nature, but to each other."

"In the end, I think that friendship added a layer to the show. You can feel that push and pull — the energy between order and disruption, between fluidity and impact. That tension is what makes collaboration exciting, and having a shared history only amplifies it."

How has your long-standing friendship with D*Face shaped the collaborative process for this exhibition?

FOR OUR 'THROUGH HER EYES' SERIES - MANON SHARED HER VIEWPOINT ON BEING A FEMALE ARTIST

1. What does it mean to be a female artist?

I am proud to be both a woman and an artist. Our ability to delve into our emotions often allows us to explore depths of creativity and introspection. The intersection of our memories and our bodies provides a unique foundation for self-expression and artistic creation. Being a woman shapes my approach to art, and my work often reflects states of confusion and uncertainty that are intrinsic to our experience. I explore complex dimensions of existence, where the image we project and our perceptions are constantly unsettled, creating an atmosphere of ambiguity and confusion. This exploration of feminine complexity—between chaos and calm—is at the heart of my practice.

2. How would you define the female gaze?

I would define the female gaze as an exploration of the emotional and experiential depth of women. Rather than focusing solely on physical appearance or sexuality, it delves into the inner world of women, capturing the richness of their emotions and experiences. The gaze on the female body is freed from objectification: it is represented authentically, without sexualization, with an emphasis on lived experience and emotional truth. In my work, I use the image of my own naked body as it is, without attempting to change it. The body becomes a witness to a reality in constant flux, reflecting moments of chaos and confusion, sometimes mixed with a search for calm amidst this turbulence. The female body becomes a place of uncertainty, a space where one is continually redefined.

3. How has your identity as a female artist influenced your artistic practice?

My identity as a female artist profoundly influences my artistic practice, as it is central to my expression. When I look within myself, I see my experience as a woman—my emotions, my traumas, my joys, and the confusion that often accompanies this existence. This inner exploration allows me to create narratives rooted in the complexity of the female condition. My work addresses the confusion between states of peace and chaos, illusion and reality. It is through this ambiguity that I express my personal story, exploring universal themes of transformation, self-perception, and survival in an increasingly blurred and uncertain world.

4. If you could lend your eyes to the viewer, what would you want them to see?

I would like them to see the beauty in moments of confusion as much as in soft and joyful moments. For me, it is these moments of oscillation between light and darkness that generate a rich and stimulating creative experience. Life is made of contrasts, and through my work, I aim to show how confusion and calm can coexist and nourish each other. I explore instability and the search for clarity in a world that often feels out of control. This struggle against uncertainty and the search for a form of inner peace in a chaotic landscape is one of the central themes in my work.

5. How does your work reflect personal or collective female experiences?

My work can sometimes seem difficult to follow, as it reflects the fluidity and confusion of my inner world. I function a bit like the changing rhythms of my hormones—one day I feel sadness, and the next, I find myself in awe of life's beauty. This alternation creates a certain confusion in my work, as it reflects the unpredictability of my own feminine cycle. My art metaphorizes emotions and states of being, producing varied atmospheres that capture moments of uncertainty, sometimes chaotic, sometimes more serene. Through the image of my blue, naked body, I try to express this inner confusion, a state where one oscillates constantly between contradictory perceptions of oneself, femininity, and the world around us.

Enquire here to receive information on available works by Manon Blet

For our 'Through Her Eyes' curated collection we spoke to artist Ji Zou who shared her viewpoing on what it means to be a female artist today.

What does it mean to be a woman artist?

The word woman has become increasingly nuanced in today’s social landscape. At times, it feels less like a fixed definition and more like a spectrum of identities and experiences. Because of this, my expression as a woman artist is defined by fluidity and freedom rather than rigid categorization. I don’t think too hard about being a woman in my practice—I think more about what it means to be an artist. That said, my identity as a woman is inherently present in my work because my body is deeply connected to what I create. My experiences, emotions, and history are embedded in every piece, not as a conscious effort to assert femininity, but simply as an undeniable extension of who I am.

How would you define the female gaze?

The female gaze is difficult to pinpoint, and I feel a certain discomfort with the term female itself—it’s a binary word used to describe something I see as fluid, expansive, and even infinite. Instead of viewing the gaze as strictly male or female, I see it as existing on a spectrum, resisting rigid categorizations. I admire artists across this spectrum, like Lisa Yuskavage, who plays with the aesthetics of the male gaze while maintaining a deeply personal, striking, and profound vision. Her work challenges the boundaries of what the female gaze might be, proving that it’s not simply about rejecting traditional depictions but about complicating and expanding them.

How has your identity as a female artist shaped your artistic practice?

My work is rooted in self-portraiture and the body, which is undoubtedly influenced by the legacy of many female artists before me—Frida Kahlo, Lisa Yuskavage, Yoko Ono. Their work has shaped my understanding of how the body can be a site of both personal and political meaning. I explore the relationship between my physical form and two opposing forces: the internal subconscious—the intimate, instinctual, and often hidden aspects of self—and the external world—the projections, pressures, and expectations imposed upon the body. My practice is shaped by navigating these tensions, allowing them to manifest through material, composition, and form.

If you could install your pair of eyes into the viewer, what would you want them to see?

I would want the viewer to see fluidity—the collapse of digital and spiritual realms, the tension between identity and transformation, the way intimacy and alienation can coexist. I would want them to feel the weight of history, both personal and collective, stitched into the layers of my canvases.

Most of all, I want them to sense something unnameable—a presence that exists in the spaces between form and emptiness, between the seen and the unseen.

How does your work reflect personal or collective female experiences?

My work is deeply personal, drawn from my own subjective experiences and how they have been shaped by external social structures. Though my perspective is singular, I believe that authenticity creates connection—when something is deeply felt, it resonates beyond the individual.

I align with Aimé Césaire’s idea of the universal:

"I have a different idea of a universal. It is of a universal rich with all that is particular, rich with all the particulars there are, the deepening of each particular, the coexistence of them all."

To me, this means that personal experiences, when explored with depth and honesty, can reflect something larger—a coexistence of shared histories, emotions, and realities. My work doesn’t attempt to speak for all women, but rather to explore my own experiences in a way that might illuminate something resonant for others.

To receive details of available pieces by Ji Zou please click here 

FOR OUR 'THROUGH HER EYES' SERIES - EJITS SHARED HER VIEWPOINT ON BEING A FEMALE ARTIST

What does it mean to be a woman artist?

This probably sounds a bit trite, but you know you never really think of yourself as a woman artist you're just an artist, but to me if I am really thinking about it I guess it's about exploring your voice in the visual format, and by that I mean digging deep and seeing the things that you love, the things that sort of spark  inspiration. 

The things for me that I loved in childhood and don't want to let go of.  A lot of my work is very cartoonish, it's about creating characters that are pleasing. I choose colours and that are like bubblegum and bright and will  be really cheerful, and some of that meant exploring like this idea of femininity. A lot of my colours I suppose some people would describe as a feminine but I never really thought that we actually hated pink when I was growing up because it represented femininity and I was a tomboy! I just wanted to draw and skate and paint, and didn't really think about my gender very much.

As I came into the sphere of being in a career as an artist there was some growing sense of having to overcome the fear of taking up space as a woman and pursuing a career doing what I enjoy the most, which feels like a real privilege and then on top of that having to sort of present that to an audience and to the public so that I can make a career out of it that opened my eyes up to how women are taught to be small and not take up space, and be happy with what we've got and I didn't want to do that. I wanted to do what I loved and I think that's what that means to me as being a woman artist is getting to do what you love and getting to share your perspective with other people.

(listen here)

How would you define female gaze?
I guess female gaze as I understand it, is kind of the antidote to the male gaze, its umm where as previously the portrayal of women would be as like objects of desire, the female gaze is like portraying powerful strong women that have agency and that are real, they're not just beautiful things. In my work obviously my characters are really cartoony, they're not real people but I do try to give them life, give them  agency, give them character - obviously because I'm a character creator. What I do sort of play with my in my work is gender, and I'm not very nice prescriptive when it comes to like what gender my characters are. I like to give it a little bit of ambiguity and in some instances play with gender like 'Pink Beard'. My mermaid, bearded, bright pink character - they are both male and female 'cause a mermaid is obviously usually represented as a beautiful woman with the whole shell bra thing going and 'Pink Beard' has a masive pink beard and a pirate hat and sort of takes two opposing ideals and mashes them together and that's kind of where I come from when creating a character, its umm, yeah not really prescribing a gender to it at all but I am just having fun with it!

(listen here)

How has your identity as a female artist shaped your artistic practice?
As I said before I grew up as a bit of a tomboy so super identify as a very feminine woman, but through  my exploration, and the things that I really love, I found, you know that I love bright colour,s I love pinks purples, teals, yellows - very feminine colours actually accidentally, I didn't mean for my work to be feminine but it sort of ended up that way. I'm  really drawn to cuteness, like I really like 'kawai' Japanese character design and that's mixed with classic American animation animation. because I studied animation so I guess the feminine side of me comes through maybe more than I intended it to! The round shapes,  the colours - wanting for my work to be joy and silliness with a little edge, with a little weird edge 'cause I'm interested in some sort of magic and mythology, and weirdness in general, so that's all mashed up together.

In my practise itself I think I'm really aware of sort of giving and being, not of service but of - well maybe of service, like where I paint a big meal and people gain something from it they love seeing it every day because it cheers them up, like that comes into my work as an idea of like I want to put something out in the world thats positive, and joyful and that can sort of brighten someone's day and in terms of like other areas of my practice I give workshops, I want to give, I want my work to be about people finding lightness and enjoyment and  learning all of that in there and I think there is something quite like naturally giving in women and females. I guess it's the caregiver in us,  and I think that does in for my practice quite heavily. I want to put something out in the world that creates a positive impact on people's days, like it cheers you up, it gives you a bright sunny feeling and a bit of a giggle because you're silly that's what my work's all about.

(listen here)

To receive details of available pieces by Ejits please click here 

FOR OUR 'THROUGH HER EYES' SERIES - AYSHA NAGIEVA SHARED HER VIEWPOINT OF BEING A FEMALE ARTIST

What does it mean to be a woman artist?

I think it’s really exciting to be a woman artist. Female artists haven’t always had the representation that we have today, which makes it super important for me to make art that I find enjoyable to make. I think as a woman you always carry the legacy of all the women before you and for that reason it’s exciting for me to unapologetically express my creative vision in my art.

How would you define female gaze?
I think the female gaze is a slightly different concept for each woman. My own female gaze is always whimsical and playful. I enjoy tapping into the high-spirited, fun-loving nature that all women start off with as girls. I try to bring that into my art as well by painting dolls that I would have loved to look at and play with as a child. Female gaze for me is always rooted in having as much fun with art as possible.

How has your identity as a female artist shaped your artistic practice?
I believe there is something intricately feminine about dolls in general. Allowing myself to experience girlhood and essentially playing with dolls in the way that seems meaningful to me through my artistic practice has been a pivotal moment for me as an artist.

If you could install your pair of eyes to the viewer what would you want them to see?
I would want the viewer to tap into their inner child when they look at my paintings. To feel that as adults we all still carry our childhood selves within and they are usually the keepers and protectors of creativity in our adult lives. I would want the viewer to experience this childhood-like feeling of excitement and wonder when they look at my pieces.

How does your work reflect personal or collective female experiences?
All of my paintings are memory capsules of different stand out moments in my life, a visual diary of sorts. I think working through memories and experiences in a creative way is super important to me. I also believe women are innately creative and we constantly find new ways to express that creativity in our everyday lives. My painting practice is a huge outlet for this.

 To receive details of available pieces by Aysha Nagieva please click here 

We asked Lee Gihun to briefly introduce to us his solo SHOW 'Masquerade' – exhibited for the first time in the UK.

"It is an honour and great joy for me to hold a solo exhibition at StolenSpace Gallery in London, a venue of significant importance in the world of street art and contemporary art.

This exhibition aligns with the direction of my Masquerade series, showcasing early works created on wallpaper, as well as the previously unreleased sub-series Pietà within the Masquerade theme. I believe it will be a meaningful exhibition for those interested in my artistic world."

Photo by Gian Maitelli.

"For those encountering the Masquerade series for the first time, it may appear as fantasy or fairy-tale-like artwork, but it is actually a form of fantastic realism that metaphorically and implicitly depicts the reality we inhabit by adopting myth. My work seeks to portray a world beyond representation, capturing reality through a filter of subjective memories and emotions.

Through unique colours, textures, and the gaze created by contrasting elements, I depict the anxiety and compassion I feel toward the real world. I believe this exhibition creates a unique atmosphere and meaning as it brings together my work with the free spirit and distinctive local character of Osborne Street, where StolenSpace Gallery is located."

"I would like to express my gratitude to the gallery for curating this exhibition, where these many meanings intersect, and I hope it will be a meaningful event for those who love my art. Thank you all for your interest and support."

– Lee Gihun at StolenSpace Gallery, 2024.

'Masquerade' continues online, to view available pieces please click here 

Matsuyama spoke to us about his inspiration behind 'Portraits of Dazzle':the deceptive allure found in social media and WWI Dazzle camouflage.

What first compelled you to incorporate dazzle camouflage into your work?

I became interested in the striking appearance and narrative of Dazzle camouflage after watching a documentary about World War I. In today's society, where communication revolves around social media, it's crucial to share visually appealing information to fulfill the desire for approval through likes and follower counts. This includes using filters to enhance skin appearance, portray a slim figure, remove unnecessary elements from images, or transform cloudy skies into clear ones. The deceptive allure of posts that appear beautiful on social media, much like how Dazzle camouflage deceived enemy ships, aligns perfectly with the theme of my artwork. That's why I incorporate Dazzle camouflage as a motif in various pieces.

Dazzle camouflage was used to intentionally mislead enemies. How do you find this captures what you’re trying to explore through your portraits?

I am a contemporary artist, but in my work "Portrait of Dazzle," I play the role of both a portrait painter and a viewer of social media. In traditional portrait painting, artists and models typically interact face-to-face to complete the portrait. However, in my work "Portrait of Dazzle," the artist paints the model (a selfie on social media) through a smartphone screen. During this process, the artist and model have no personal acquaintance, and the model may not even be aware they are being depicted. This production process reflects modern communication methods.

Your practice centres around the concept of ‘modern people’ often concerned with self-image. What drew you to explore this theme in such detail?

With the widespread adoption of the internet and smartphones, our society is undergoing unprecedented changes at a pace never before experienced by humanity. I am intrigued by what "modern people" are exposed to, what they think about, and how they are evolving.

How does your background in illustration inform your practice, if at all?

My background in illustration informs my artistic practice by approaching my work not just sensually, but also rationally and theoretically. I bring a marketing perspective gained from my experience as an illustrator and designer to my activities as an artist.

You’ve recently been working on objects and installations. Do you feel this was a natural progression?

I have been creating installation artworks since around 2015, up until the early stages of the pandemic. After the pandemic made attracting audiences challenging, I began considering creating paintings that could be appreciated and purchased online, which led to the completion of "Portrait of Dazzle.”

To enquire about available work please click here

We had the pleasure of asking Yohta Matsuoka a few questions about his journey as a street artist and as a painter, and understand his concept of 'Sincerity' when it comes to bridging seemingly polar opposite elements on canvas.

Questions of perspective are at the centre of your work. What message are you trying to express through your compositions?

 I believe that even the most mundane objects and familiar sights, like the apples frequently featured in my work, can appear different when viewed from another angle. I try to convey this by manipulating the composition of my artwork. From a broader perspective, it's about not taking things for granted and recognising that even on the most routine days, no two days are the same.

Your work makes interesting use of colour and pattern. What informs your choices when conceptualising a new piece? 

 The most crucial factor when creating a new piece is whether or not I feel compelled to paint it. I also ask myself if there is a compelling narrative or concept within the world I am trying to depict.

Having produced work both in the streets and on canvas, can you walk us through your creative process for each?

 I haven't been as active on the streets lately! But every now and then, I might put up a sticker, or if I have a pen in my pocket, I might impulsively scribble down a thought. Or maybe just my tag. It's all about impulse and timing. Canvas work, on the other hand, is much more deliberate. First, I sketch on my iPad, digitally collaging the composition, colours, and various objects to create the image. Then I give it some time. Sometimes I notice things that bother me the next day. Once I've decided on a sketch I want to paint, it's like replicating the digital sketch onto the canvas.

Your mural work differs slightly to your work for galleries. What drew you to begin creating these slightly abstract still-life paintings?

 I started this series when COVID hit and the lockdowns began. People's activities came to a halt, the city was drained of its vibrancy and people, and it felt like I was looking at a monochrome, still world. As a painter, I felt compelled to react to this unusual world, and I started by placing simple objects on a blank, monochrome canvas. Like restarting a world that had been reset. In doing so, I realised that by carefully arranging recognisable, everyday objects, I could create faces. I realised that they were both still lifes and portraits. Then, with the hope that the abnormal situation caused by COVID would eventually end, I set the time of day to be before dawn, when the sun would rise and night would turn to day. It's monochrome, dark, and unsettling, but the faces that emerge are smiling and seem to harbour positive elements.

‘Sincerity’ explores the dichotomy between classical and contemporary art. How does this reflect your artistic vision?

 For the past few years, I have been painting still lifes, which could be considered a fundamental expression of art. They provide an excellent opportunity to study the characteristics of each object, such as its shape and colour, through my brushstrokes, leaving me feeling calm and serene. At the same time, I am drawn to graffiti art and urban culture, which excite me and make me feel incredibly energised. I believe that the fusion of these seemingly polar opposite elements within me represents who I am - a quiet and calm individual with a curious and active mind. By honestly embracing both aspects, I feel a sense of balance. And I believe that it is through a sincere confrontation with the canvas during the painting process that my vision emerges.

To enquire about available work please click here 

WE TOOK THE OPPORTUNITY  TO ASK add fuel A FEW QUESTIONS ABOUT HIS WORKING PRACTICE AND NEW BODY OF WORK 'simply squares'

Enquire here to request details of available works by ADD FUEL

Last fall Scott Listfield and his brother took a trip to step into their ancestor's footsteps. Each painting in this show is from a stop along the way.

The Equinox 

The Wolf House

The Wall

The Road

Whilst in London for his first show 'Tokyoverse' with StolenSpace, we took the opportunity  to ask Geoffrey a few questions about his working practice and new body of work.

Enquire here to request details of available works by Scott 

Can you describe the exhibition in 3 words?

Hypnotic - Calm - Kinetic 

What inspires your colour choices for your artworks, and is there a specific focus on colour theory?

Colour is becoming more and more important in the paintings. The transition between colour is creating the movement and the mood. I like to use colours that compliment each other but mostly offset this with opposite colour usage i.e red and green. The colour combinations help the form and direction of the pieces and dictates the flow and energy. The colour combination also has the ability to interfere with the foreground and background and creates a sense of confusion.

How do you initially prepare for the composition of each piece?

Each painting starts with sketches to create the composition and over all shape. This is taken from observations around elements from nature. Once the piece is ready to paint I use bold painted layers behind working with colour gradients to create the flow and energy. The thinner lines are then applied on top to add to the movement and creates the over all mood of the painting.

How important is nature and our planet in the creation of your work?

Nature is the key element in the work but it’s the effect nature can have on us that is the interesting part. It’s about how nature can create positive energy and is important for our mental health. 

How important is the collaboration between music and art in your work?

Working with Toydrum on the music for the show is such a positive element. Adding music enables you to go further and explore the energy and movement within the work. It enhances the experience.

Enquire here to request details of available works by Kai

we sat down with Ezra over a pizza and fired over some questions to get to know him a little better!

Tell us about a bit about yourself and your background.

I grew up in East Los Angeles and I went to the Academy of Arts in San Francisco to study art.

When did you first discover your interest in art and creativity? Which artists would you say are your key influences?  

I first found my love for art around the age of 5. The biggest influence in my career was my father. He was always drawing and painting around me and my brothers. So I naturally gravitated towards the arts.

Where do you find inspiration or what motivates you to create? Explain how to be happy!

The inspiration for all of my art comes from everyday life. I tend to draw from emotions we have all gone through at one point in time in our lives. My motivation comes from the passion and love I have for creativity.

Could you tell us about your artistic process and how you would describe your style?

My process for creating a piece of art is quite simple, I create what and how I'm feeling. If that doesn't work then I think of a past experience and build from there. The style I draw and paint in is called rubber hose. It's a style that became popular in the 1920's. I've always loved artwork from that era, especially the cartoons.

In your solo show ‘I Used To Be Happy’, you paint a character ‘Happy The Clown’. What's the purpose or goal of portraying this character in your work?

What are your future plans as an artist?

My plans for the future are to eventually have a larger platform to keep on creating and hopefully work with organizations to help make mental health awareness something everyone feels comfortable talking about. I would also love to continue to show my work overseas and connect with people from all over the world and share the love I have for art.