Lauren McAndrew

Year of birth: 2002
Where do you live: Manhattan, NY
Your education: BFA in Studio Arts from Rochester Institute of Technology
Describe your art in three words: Nostalgic, warm, mournful
Your discipline: Oil Paint
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Lauren McAndrew, The Rocking Chair, 2024

Your artist statement discusses the balance between security and vulnerability. How do you translate these sensations into your compositions and use of color?

I translate the balance between security and vulnerability into my compositions by focusing on intimate, private environments that evoke both comfort and exposure. My work often portrays moments of solitude or small-scale connections, such as one or two figures in quiet, enclosed spaces. These settings create feelings of safety while simultaneously revealing the subject’s inner world, inviting the viewer into a vulnerable, unguarded moment.

Color plays a significant role in achieving this balance. I use warm, rich tones to create an atmosphere that feels like an embrace—protective and introspective. These colors envelop the figures or spaces, blurring the boundaries between the subject and their environment to heighten emotional engagement. At the same time, areas of contrast—in light, texture, or negative space—introduce a subtle tension that mirrors the vulnerability of being truly seen. I intentionally use what I feel are “hazy” colors, such as browns, greens, and golds to imply a film of age has been placed over the piece. The symbol of the halo emphasizes this older, reflective feel as if looking into the past. My transitions between thick and thin paint give illusions of softness or “fading away.” By constructing these visual dynamics, I aim to make the viewer feel as if they are stepping into a memory or a deeply personal moment where security and openness coexist.

My current paintings focus mostly on the truth revealed about a person while they sleep—how that can signify the passage of time and how that passage of time changes relationships. I look at how the direction of a person’s gaze, or the absence of it, alters the emotional tone of the piece. Direct eye contact often feels harsh or confrontational. But a diverted gaze, or looking at someone with their eyes closed, can imply thought, longing, and can sometimes even feel like an intrusion.

Many of your paintings depict moments of intimacy and connection. Are these inspired by personal experiences, or do they reflect a broader narrative?

All of my art is born out of personal experience and relates to something I have directly felt or thought about. I draw from family, nostalgic places, and moments of self-revelation, but my ultimate goal transcends self-expression. I aim to create a universal resonance, inviting viewers to project their own memories and emotions onto my work. By doing so, I foster a silent, shared connection between myself and my audience. It’s not about who physically sits in the painting but who the viewer sees when they look at it.
This instinct toward familiarity shapes emotional, physical, and spiritual aspects of life. By inviting viewers into these private spaces, I encourage self-reflection and connection, highlighting who we are alone versus how we perform in public. Ultimately, my work reflects a dual narrative—one personal and one universal—that invites viewers to explore their own emotional landscapes.

Lauren McAndrew, Knotted Hair, 2024

How did your time abroad influence your artistic approach and the themes you explore in your work?

My time abroad profoundly shaped my artistic approach by immersing me in both historical and contemporary art practices. Visiting museums like the Louvre and the Borghese Gallery allowed me to study figurative work and examine techniques that have stood the test of time. Just as impactful as studying the art was observing the people—their differences, their similarities, and the universal threads that connect us all. Looking at figurative work, examining technique, I always in my mind try to break down how the painter whose work I’m looking at accomplished the image before me. It’s impossible to make great art without also looking at it just as it is impossible to understand people without observing them.

These experiences deepened my appreciation for how art evolves in response to culture and history. While interning in Genoa, I blended the city’s historical beauty into modern product designs, merging old and new. Similarly, during my studies in Rome and travels through Florence and Pompeii, I reimagined historical artworks through a modern lens, bridging centuries of artistic exploration. This balance between tradition and innovation continues to influence my work as I strive to create compositions that feel timeless yet relevant to today’s world.

Your work often features figures in contemplative or emotional states. What draws you to portray these specific moments of human experience?

I am drawn to contemplative or emotional states because they reveal the complexity of human experience. Capturing moments of introspection or raw emotion allows me to explore the layers of identity and connection to the world around us. My fascination with this complexity was nurtured through research on the perception of the “self,” influenced by theorists such as Arlie Russell Hochschild and George Herbert Mead.

This passion was further enriched by my studies in art history, particularly my love for movements like Romanticism, Impressionism, and Realism, which deeply explore the human condition. I find inspiration in the works of old masters like Rembrandt and Vermeer, as well as contemporary artists like Jenny Saville, Marlene Dumas, and Lucian Freud, whose portrayals of human vulnerability resonate deeply with me. My work seeks to continue this tradition, inviting viewers into moments of introspection and connection while celebrating the beauty and complexity of the human spirit.

Lauren McAndrew, Lovers Kiss, 2024

Could you share more about the techniques and materials you use to evoke the depth and texture of human emotions in your paintings?

To evoke depth and texture, I rely on techniques like glazing and fading. By building layers of translucent paint, I create a sense of depth and luminosity that captures the subtleties of skin tones, light, and atmosphere. Fading edges and soft transitions enhance this effect, evoking a sense of impermanence and movement.

I also incorporate warm, rich tones and detailed textures. These choices aim to create moments that feel timeless and suspended. Through these techniques, I invite viewers into an intimate space where they feel welcomed yet tinged with a gentle sadness, encouraging both reflection and connection.

Part of why I am so drawn to oil paint in particular is because of its versatility. It can go on as something barely there or as a thick glob, mixing with gamsol, linseed oil, or stand oil to give entirely different finishes. The surface is malleable and lends itself differently to different surfaces. With its slow drying time, things can always be pushed around and changed – it’s impossible to ruin a painting. Given what I speak of in my work, oil paint felt the most fitting.

You’ve also worked in design and print. How do these disciplines intersect with your painting practice, if at all?

It was through experimentation in print that I discovered new directions in painting. Initially struggling in my introductory printmaking class, I began to experiment more freely in subsequent courses, becoming particularly fond of screen printing. This led me to explore how screen printing could be paired with other techniques to elevate my work. I began printing translucent sheets over finished images, cutting and collaging elements, and using the narrative behind my imagery to guide the final outcome. I used different types of inks to create ghost images and considered my negative space more heavily. Even the mistakes I made became crucial to pursuing new ideas and techniques.

These experiments shaped my painting practice. Printmaking helped me establish my color palette, subject matter, and use of alternating tangibility. The halo symbol, a recurring motif in my work, first emerged in a print piece. Without this push into a new medium, my paintings might have followed a completely different path.

Lauren McAndrew, I Can Hear Your Heart, 2024

Your project statement mentions combating loneliness. How do you hope your audience connects with your work on this theme?

I hope my audience recognizes that while our experiences are deeply personal, they are also universal. Moments like falling asleep on someone’s chest, sitting in comfortable silence, or allowing oneself to cry are deeply intimate yet shared across humanity. Through my work, I address the loneliness that arises from a lack of authentic interaction in today’s world.

At the same time, I explore the value of solitude. In a society where much of life is performance, being alone strips away external expectations and leaves us to confront our truest selves. My work invites viewers to engage with these dualities—to find comfort in shared experiences while embracing the personal growth that solitude can offer. By fostering this reflection, I hope to ease the weight of loneliness and encourage connection and understanding.

Lauren McAndrew, Thursday Afternoon, 2024