Op Out, oil on canvas
Firstly, huge congratulations on winning the Young Artist Award at the Herbert Smith Freehills Portrait Award, such an amazing achievement! How did it feel when it was announced you were the winner?!
Thank you so much! It felt amazing and a bit surreal. I’ve been in the portrait exhibition once previously in 2015, and I never would have dreamed I would one day receive an award at it. I’ve been introduced to the work of so many fantastic painters through following this exhibition over the years, and there are so many incredible portraits in this year’s exhibition. I’m so happy to be a part of it.
Before its Ruined (or an Unrealized Mean Side) oil on canvas
Your self-portrait that won captures a moment of despair and fragility. What was the emotional process of creating this piece, and how did it shape the final outcome?
My process involved a lot of quick sketches and color studies. I purchased several thrift store men’s blazers to try out before I settled on one that would best suit the composition I drew, of an oversized jacket dominating a large part of the canvas. The other parts of the painting were invented. The spider web was based on preparatory drawings of webs I did. The painting had several background colors that got painted over before I settled on blue. I was thinking of the blue in a Holbein portrait. The shade I went with actually was close to a blue in the cover of a Magritte book on my shelf, of the painting “The Central Story.” I don’t think the book’s printed color was true to the original painting, but it sort of resonated with me.
The process of this painting, more than some of my other work, was influenced by my own emotional state while painting it. So, in some ways, the intention of the painting shifted throughout, along with my own feelings at the time.
Ultimately, the painting came to reflect a specific moment of despair that overshadows everything else. Now, several years later, that intense sadness feels a bit ridiculous—almost self-indulgent, in a way. It’s the kind of all-consuming sense of loss that, at the time, feels like it’s the only thing that matters.
The use of the spider web in your self-portrait is striking. Could you elaborate on the significance of this symbol and how you used it to represent loss and fragility?
The spider web started with the visceral sensation of encountering webs—a metaphor for the fragile boundary between intention and action. While I’m afraid of spiders, deliberately disturbing their webs feels like crossing some kind of ethical boundary.
The painting evolved into a meditation on destruction and preservation. With the helplessness of despair in mind, I wanted to capture a moment of potential control—or the power that can come from contemplating difficult choices. In considering a possible course of action to avoid heartbreak. The idea of destroying something you fear losing, before its taken from you some other way, became central to the painting. I was questioning which is more bearable? Is it easier to live with a cruel choice or a tragic error?
The spider’s web, with its complicated beauty and fragility, represents the things we dread to lose, embodying the conflict between preservation and destruction.
Memory Hiearchy, oil on canvas
Memory Hiearchy (Detail)
The judges said they were impressed by your experimental and punchy use of symbols. How do you approach incorporating symbolism in your work, and what role does it play in conveying your narrative?
I approach symbolism conceptually, choosing recognizable objects and elements that I can then alter and attach new meaning to within the painting. Their unfamiliar function in the paintings differs from their immediate familiar context. I use these as symbols to represent deeper themes, and their placement within the painting is always deliberate.
For example, I’m drawn to coats, especially oversized blazers, because they represent both concealment and exposure. They have a distorting visual effect, alternating between making a person appear bigger and smaller. Concealed under its folds and stiff structure, it can create an impression where you appear intimidating, while also feeling slight and lost underneath the fabric. The extra fabric collapses in, and making your head appear small at the top, betraying the illusion. This embodies a conflicting desire to be seen, while fearing visibility. Its contradictory nature fits into the larger narrative I’m exploring.
Stop Now and it was for nothing, oil on canvas
Your art often explores the absurdity of life and how we make meaning out of it. How do you navigate these existential themes in your practice, and how do you hope your audience will interpret them?
I navigate these themes by employing realistic techniques to create scenes that defy everyday logic. In my work, familiar objects serve as metaphors for a deeper, often irrational quest for something that goes beyond reason. Their unfamiliar roles within the paintings challenge their usual function. They aren’t depicted for their utility, but for their potential to symbolize a longing for outcomes that defy logic.
The theatrical and performative aspects of my paintings underscore the constructed nature of reality and the roles we play within it. The subjects often have obscured faces or are shown from the back, reflecting doubt and uncertainty. Partially hiding faces emphasizes the inherent limitations in our perception and understanding.
The viewers’ experience mirrors that of the subjects of the paintings—grappling with a reality that is only partially revealed to us. It questions if the entirety of a situation—or another person—can ever be fully known. The obscured subjects underscore a narrative of seeking, where the desire to know more is met with the reality that some answers remain perpetually elusive.
Looking at your broader body of work, how does this self-portrait fit into your overall artistic journey? Do you see it as a turning point or continuation of certain themes you’ve been exploring?
I see it more as a continuation of themes I’ve been exploring. Although, as a self-portrait, I do think it takes on an added personal meaning in addition to the overarching concepts of my work. While it feels somewhat specific to a particular time in my life, it embodies an anxiety and paradox of choice that connects to my other work. So I see the painting as part of that larger exploration.
If we were to wander into your studio, what would be the go-to art materials that you can’t go without?
Mostly paints and brushes. I have an assortment of brushes in many sizes, mostly filberts and flats. I like long-handled brushes and use both bristle and synthetic ones. There are certain colors I always have to have on my palette; my favorites are Old Holland and Gamblin. Lately, I always have a tube of acrylic orange and transparent red oxide to use as a ground or underpainting.
In addition to paint, I rely heavily on sketchbooks and notebooks for drawing, writing, and keeping track of ideas. And, post-it notes—I can’t live without those.
Bored when its over, oil on canvas
Lastly, thanks so much for taking the time to speak to us today, can you tell us about any upcoming projects or exhibitions that our audience can look out for over the coming months at all?
Of course, thank you for speaking with me! I have a solo exhibition coming up this spring at Gallery Poulsen in Copenhagen. I’ll also have work at the gallery’s booth at the Art Herning art fair in Denmark this winter.
Be sure to follow Rebecca on Instagram @beeorcutt. and see her full portfolio of work on her website - rebeccajorcutt.com