Are there particular themes that appear repeatedly in your work?
I tend to depict isolated figures lost in thought or action, with their faces either partially or fully obscured. These characters are all searching for something, whether that be hidden treasure, slugs in the forest, or ancient fossils beneath the snow in the Swedish countryside. Whatever it is that they are looking for, they represent my own constant search for meaning, connection, and identity.
How do you usually begin a new artwork?
It all comes down to getting excited about an idea. There is no painting without that initial excitement. There’s no real formula to it, and it’s difficult to know when or where these ideas will present themselves. For this reason, I try to be in the studio whenever I can.
I fully believe you have to work for inspiration, and it’s a lot easier to catch it if I’m standing before an easel. From there, it’s all about keeping that spark alive and transferring it to canvas as quickly as possible. I tend not to do too many sketches or preparatory drawings, as I like to work things out on the canvas. In the past, I’ve meticulously planned out compositions, but it got to a point where it felt like I was painting by numbers. For years, I was focused on painting in a photorealistic manner and improving my skills technically as a painter, which was an important process, as just like anything else in life, you have to learn the rules to know how to break them. But more recently, I’ve been trying to be a lot looser with the brush and more expressive, leaning into the imperfect qualities of paint. I realised that no matter how realistically you paint something, it will still be just a painting—so why not go the other way and embrace the tactile qualities of what makes painting so interesting.
Are there questions or ideas that you find yourself returning to again and again in your practice?
I think because I’m drawn to figurative painting, I’m always questioning my relationships with the people I include in my work and why I chose them rather than anyone else. These portraits can sometimes take weeks to do, which, when you think about it, is an ungodly amount of time to be looking at just one person, so a lot of feelings and old memories can rise to the surface throughout the painting process. I feel like even if it’s not a self-portrait, a painting I make of someone else will always be a reflection of me. That’s why I’m careful about who I choose to paint and, in turn, who represents me.
If you could live in one of your own surreal worlds, which one would it be?
Tough question. Honestly, none of them. I’m just looking through them right now, and I feel like the worlds I create are all quite flat and void-like, with this weird, eerie quality to them all. They weren’t designed to be appealing. But if I had to pick one, then I’d choose Stealing Frogs from the Japanese Gardens, as I’ve never been in a garden like that and felt anything other than peace and tranquility. Pair that with the adrenaline of theft and the paranoia of being caught, and you have what I’m always chasing in life: balance.
Could you share what influenced your work, The Slug Collector (2023)?
For that painting, although it’s set in another of my uncanny, surreal worlds, it’s quite a literal painting in the sense that in the reference photo, the figure was actually picking up a slug in the middle of the road and helping it to the other side. A lot of the time, I’ll come up with an idea and then stage a photo, or I’ll take an image of a person engaged in a mundane activity and alter it slightly to add a layer of narrative, but in this instance, half the work was done for me already. Picking up a slug late at night in a dress shirt and box-fresh Wales Bonner Sambas? The joke wrote itself. All that was left for me to do was fill in the background and scrawl my name on the back.
What does your studio look like? How often do you spend time working there?
My studio is located in an old industrial part of Stockholm, in an area surrounded mainly by fruit and vegetable wholesalers and importers. My cycle there consists of weaving through long lines of trucks making deliveries, soundtracked by the chirping of reversing forklifts. I try to get in as early as I can most mornings, as that’s when the light is at its best—especially these days, as the sun doesn’t tend to hang around too long in the evenings. I usually have a plan of what I’m going to do, so I can get started painting straight away. When I’m in the studio, I want to maximise my time there, so I try to do most of my planning and thinking at home or on my commute, allowing me to just lock in and paint when I arrive. It’s not the biggest studio, but it’s quiet, I’ve got a nice little community of artists around me, and enough space to have a few paintings on the go at once—which is all I need.
What’s one thing most people don’t know about you?
Given the autobiographical nature of my work, I feel like everything you need to know about me can be found in my paintings if you look hard enough. If you’re still unsure of something, then look again. At that point, if you’re still left in the dark, then my only advice would be to stay there. And stop being so nosy!
Are there specific places in Dublin that you enjoy visiting?
Well, since moving away from Dublin earlier this year and occasionally coming back to visit, I’ve actually had to ask myself this question a few times already when trying to figure out which few spots I need to hit up on my brief sojourns back. Of course, it wouldn’t be a trip home without pulling up to Yang’s Chinese with the family. It’s tradition at this point. You can also catch me kicking a ball around town with my mates, followed by the obligatory post-match pints. Other than that, I’ve always felt a pull to nature, so getting out of the city is a must for me—whether that be down to the Wicklow Mountains for a hike or a long drive out west.
What projects or artworks are you currently working on?
I’m currently adding the finishing touches to a few paintings I’m going to be showing here in Stockholm, in the back gallery of Crum Heaven. It’s a place I discovered early on when I moved to Sweden and has introduced me to a lot of great artists, so it’s a great opportunity for me to showcase my work here and meet some cool people. Besides that, I’ve been busy doing some commercial work. I’ve just painted a few commissions for Slam Jam and Umbro, which was a cool experience. They’re brands I’ve admired for a long time, so to be working alongside them was a real honour. I’m also working on some airbrush bits for Emporium back in Ireland, which are hopefully going to drop early next year. They’ve given me a lot of creative freedom, which is when I do my best work, and it’s always massively reassuring when someone trusts in my talent like that. I can’t wait for those to be out.
Kevin Judge – www.instagram.com/kevinjudge_, kevinjudge.bigcartel.com
