
Matt Hansel (b. 1977, Martinsburg, WV) lives and works in New York.
What was it like having an interest in art growing up in West Virginia and at what point did you decide to be a full-time artist?
I’m not sure I ever decided to be a full-time artist. I think becoming an artist is a process of continually ignoring all other options until you are left standing in a studio with no other choices. Or, perhaps you have no other choices to begin with and you just play your cards as fate dictates. Whichever happens to be the case, growing up in West Virginia was probably a lot like growing up in any other rural area in America. There was a lack of cultural institutions and attention paid to the arts. There were certainly no adults I could talk to about what a life as an artist might be like. Looking back at it, it’s kind of wild I had the audacity to think an artist was something one could become. Perhaps ignorance was my superpower. Luckily though, art has a zero-dollar entry fee and one doesn’t need to be in a cultural epicenter to fall in love with making things. I was lucky enough to have two very supportive parents, which isn’t always the case. Besides that, I had a blind faith that things could work out which sometimes masqueraded as foolishness.
What inspired you to incorporate gruesome delight (morbid delectatio) and unsettling seduction into your work?
It was during the lockdown in 2020 when I first started making this body of work. We were all at home stuck on our couches and stressed about this crazy situation we found ourselves in. I remember having this image of an inner demon sitting beside me on the couch and how it seemed we were all stuck at home trapped with our demons. I thought that if we could just take our demons out for a stroll or on a trip to the beach, we would all be better off. So, in an act of catharsis, I made a painting of a young couple splashing in the waves with a demon. It was an odd painting for me and led me to think about the power art has to seduce us, especially when this power is used to present the grotesque in a way that is seductive. Art acts as a scrim through which we can be attracted to that which would repulse us in real life. It’s a special power – one of many art possesses.
How does humor play a role in your work?
I’ve said before that one equation for good art is: virtuosity + pathos + humor. There are many equations that will get you to the same answer, but more often than not, humor will appear as one of the addends – It’s so human and undeniably pleasurable when used correctly. The humor in my work generally stems from the absurd. I mean, the act of making a painting is absurd enough all on its own, it just needs a tiny nudge to send it over the line into folly. That’s the balance one needs to strike. On the other side of the ledger is the fact that painting (while absurd) is also so essential to the human experience and necessary for understanding ourselves. If you can make a painting that is aware of this dichotomy, you’re onto something.
In what way does your work create alternate realities that speak to both human desire and acceptance?
Painting allows you to create your own world – with its own rules and its own reality. My paintings create a world where people can coexist with their inner demons. They can go out, side by side free of judgment. It’s a world where people don’t have to hide those parts of themselves that might be objectionable to others. Repression doesn’t exist and is replaced by a form of radical self-acceptance. Which is to say an acceptance that we all have demons we try to hide from the world. While this might not be optimal (or possible) in the world outside the painting, it seems to serve those inside my paintings quite well.
Can you talk about the significance of colliding artistic styles within your work?
I think of the history of painting as a river – every artist is a small tributary feeding into it. As the artists mix together with the artists of the past, they affect one another and change the way each other’s work is understood. The new artists are of course affected by the older ones – but, perhaps less intuitively, the way we see the older artist’s work is also changed by the work that’s being made today. I think because painting has such a long and storied tradition, incorporating its history in my work has always interested me. In this most recent body of work, I’ve looked to artists of the past who have used demons as symbols of human vulnerability. Work of Northern Europeans such as Bosch, Dürer, and Bruegel have been of particular interest.
What is your creative process in producing work?
I don’t have a prescriptive way of working. Sometimes the paintings stem from an image I see – sometimes an idea I have – sometimes a dream. I work out the composition in Photoshop making a fairly rudimentary collage with bits of photos and drawings. I think of that image as the main thrust of the work. Once that image is established on the canvas, I start adding small worlds in the corners and crevasses as I paint. I think of these as the microcosms within the macrocosm. They happen a bit like automatic writing and I try not to overthink them. This often produces the most comical moments in the work – which are often my favorites.
Who is somebody currently living that you have the most respect for in the art world?
Sean Landers is an amazing artist and a good friend who has maintained a career since the early nineties. He’s created an immense body of work without sacrificing the quality of painting or conceptual rigor. He has a perfect mix of humor and poetic tragedy in his paintings. We met at Yale where he was my favorite (and most generous) professor. He’s been a huge influence for me and I can see his influence in so many younger artist’s work.
Is there an institutional collection that would be meaningful for you to be in?
As a New York artist, the dream is the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I remember when I was at Cooper, one of my professors (David True) had a painting up at the Met. I told him I saw it and he seemed somewhat nonplussed. He then said someone else had mentioned that it was up. I thought, “Hey man, buy a damn subway token and go see it…Your painting is up in the fucking Met.” Now I want to act nonchalant when someone tells me they saw my painting up there.
Describe what an ideal public or private space would look like for your artwork to reside in.
The ideal place for one of my paintings to exist would be somewhere where it is seen frequently by at least one person who loves it.
Which artists would you like to be in a group show with in the future?
Artists that I’m jealous of. Also, ones that are jealous of me.
What part of the art ecosystem excites you the most for the future of your practice?
My art ecosystem is a small room with a comfy chair and an easel. It’s the only part of the art ecosystem that really excites me. I feel blessed to have it and every day I walk into it, I am filled with gratitude that I’m able to spend my days there. What an absolute gift.
This Summer Matt has a painting included in Licked By The Waves at Museum MORE in the Netherlands from 7/6/24 – 10/6/24.

