Metalheads portrayed within Renaissance compositions and structures, painted with a mix of Toulouse-Lautrec or Munch’s techniques, palette, and the general setting or ambiance. This could sum up the general vibe of Steven Shearer's UK solo debut, currently on view at David Zwirner in London, an exhibition that comes ahead of his forthcoming solo exhibition at the Aspen Art Museum in summer 2027 and offers great insight into the richness and particularity of the Canadian artist’s practice and approach.
And while my opening sentence still stands, it should be noted that it oversimplifies what #StevenShearer is doing and how. “Everything I see, I save, and everything I save, I have, and everything I have, I use,” the Vancouver-based artist mentioned in a recent interview, suggesting the complexity of his approach. And really, his process is far from merely cropping out a photo of an 80s-era Def Leppard member and smacking it underneath the arches or on the side of a set table. Instead, Shearer collects these images, digitally alters them to create AI-generated offshots and permutations, and fuses them with the protagonists of classical masterpieces before landing on the final reference. A process he fittingly described as “inbreeding the reference images,” in another one of his recent interviews. This method also involves a lot of “back and forth” dynamics: going back in time, taking an element, adapting it into whatever form fits the present, and, on the way back, taking a contemporary element and adjusting it to the way things were done back then. The gallery website has some great studio photos that provide a better understanding of all this.
The results of this are images that “appear discovered rather than invented,” that feel equally authentic and speculative. Besides being a mélange of different eras in various forms, it’s the imaginary androgynous sitters that feel so genuine, with an aura of fantasy around them. Frequently showing signs of decay and transformation, their pale, wrinkling skin and pupilless eyes elevate them beyond the sphere of common humanity and Earthly existence. This is emphasized through the technique, in which pigment-rich linen weave becomes their skin, their clothes, and their surrounding. The thinly painted, sanded-off surfaces also imply this passage-of-time quality, occasionally escalating to blotchy impasto moments that go hand in hand w the aforementioned notion of deterioration. This directly clashes with the bold colors and illumination of their surroundings, reminiscent of a computer screen's backlighting, and with the occasional references to 20th-century subcultures (fashion, logos, graffiti, etc.). In the end, this striking series of “portraits without sitters” is more about creating a model of a (type of) person or their presence than portraying an actual person. —Saša Bogojev
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