Inside the Brighton studio of painter David Shrigley, as an exhibition of his work opens in London

Since 2015, David has been based in Brighton. Having initially rented a studio, he bought this centrally located building two years ago. It was office space and the rooms retain – for now – the workplace carpeting, institutional lighting and doors designed to meet fire-safety standards. It is filled with his guitar collection, studio paraphernalia and recent paintings, which are ‘bigger than usual, but I had the wall space and the canvases’, and there is an ω incongruousness that somehow feels appropriate to David’s embrace of absurdity and chance.

Expressing admiration for early-20th-century artist Francis Picabia’s ‘economic way of rendering things’, David explains that his assistants create lists of what he might paint. He will interpret words such as ‘scarf’, ‘hammer’ or ‘pangolin’, aided by online pictorial references. There is a parallel with Picabia’s fellow Surrealists’ practice of automatism, which involved attempting to suppress conscious control.

David in front of Look at This, 2025. Success/Failure, 2025.

Joshua Monaghan

‘It’s creating a pathway into the work that’s fun, so that you forget about the process,’ says David. He describes himself as a conceptual artist: ‘The idea is more important than the object and the paintings are in service to the accompanying statement.’ Describing himself as a ‘ferocious reader’, he takes delight in what he likes to call ‘the slippage’ between a word’s meaning and its use – an element that is key to the aforementioned show at Stephen Friedman Gallery, which puts a Shrigley-ish spin on the Duchamp Readymade (an everyday object presented as art).

It sounds like a game, but there are parameters. ‘I’ve realised that I am slightly obsessive compulsive,’ David confesses, recounting a timetable of producing 12 paintings a day that get checked off, of which he deems about 50 per cent good enough to leave the studio. He takes breaks from his routine when a life model comes in, or to give time over to ‘making things that are stupid and won’t make any money’, such as ‘a Dada dartboard’. There’s an exciting unpredictability, but also relatability that comes through in his work and which accounts for his devoted following. Living as we are in an age of anxiety, David’s art feels like a balm for our existence .

‘Exhibition of Old Rope’ is at Stephen Friedman Gallery, W1, on November 13-December 20. stephenfriedman.com | davidshrigley.com | shrigshop.com