AUSTIN LEE - INTERVIEW

Today, we’re thrilled to be speaking with Austin Lee, a contemporary artist whose work bridges the realms of digital technology and traditional art. Known for his vibrant, emotionally resonant pieces, Austin starts his creative process using digital tools like VR and 3D software, which he then translates into paintings, sculptures, and installations. His art has been exhibited globally, from commercial galleries like Jeffrey Deitch and Peres Projects to institutions like M WOODS in Beijing and Columbia University's Wallach Art Gallery. Through his work, Austin explores themes of human emotion, technology, and connectivity in a way that feels both playful and deeply meaningful. Thank you for joining us, Austin!

1. Early Career and Inspirations

Let’s start at the beginning. What first drew you to art, and how did your practice evolve to include such a strong digital component?

I don’t think I ever went to a museum until I was an adult, so I didn’t connect with painting or traditional art forms in that way. I’ve always been drawn to music and books as things I deeply appreciated, but I didn’t know how to play any instruments, and writing didn’t come easily to me. Visual art felt more natural as a way for me to express myself. For me, art was a personal tool—something to help me process and navigate my inner world.

When I first used a computer and the internet, it opened up a completely new way to connect with people. I could create something online, share it, and imagine someone out there seeing it. At the time, I wasn’t thinking of it as “art” in a formal sense—it was just a way to express myself and connect with others. I spent a lot of time drawing in Photoshop and making experimental websites, exploring ideas in a very open-ended and playful way.

Over time, as I became more surrounded by traditional methods of making art, those early digital explorations naturally merged with my practice. It wasn’t a deliberate decision to combine them; it just evolved that way.

2. Creative Process

You often start your work using digital tools like VR or 3D software. Can you walk us through your process from initial concept to the final physical piece?

I usually notice something—a big idea or a small idea—that feels meaningful and makes me want to share it with someone. When that happens, I’ll sketch it in my sketchbook. Later, I’ll revisit my sketches, and if something still resonates or becomes more interesting over time, I’ll explore it further. That process often leads me to create a digital 3D model of the idea.

From there, I compose a scene in a 3D modeling program. At this stage, it feels a lot like photography—I’m working to find the right composition, lighting, and atmosphere to bring the image to life. Once I’ve captured the image, I bring it into Photoshop, where I sometimes draw over it again thinking of it like a flat object again. Finally, I translate it into a painting, using either an airbrush with acrylic paint or, in some cases, oil paint, depending on what feels right for the image.

3. Themes and Philosophy

Your work often examines the intersection of technology and emotion. How do you think advancements in technology have changed the way we understand and express human feelings?

I think it’s a mix of things. Technology offers opportunities for connection and personal growth, but just because they have this potential doesn’t mean it is always realized. There was a time when I felt really optimistic about the internet and its potential to help people connect on a deeper level. But now, it seems like a small group of individuals often uses it to manipulate others emotions for personal gain. In a way, that’s a timeless story—it’s something we’ve seen throughout human history. Ultimately, though, I believe it comes down to the individual. The more we look inward towards understanding ourselves the better equipped we are to understand the world around us.

4. Key Career Moments

Looking back, was there a specific moment or project that marked a turning point in your career? When did you feel you started gaining recognition as an artist?

My first solo show was a turning point for me. I had been making paintings seriously for about ten years while juggling day jobs, and I had just moved to New York after finishing grad school. It was a particular hard moment because of a sick loved one, but the love and support I received from other artists helped me stay positive. I really felt embraced as soon as I moved to NYC. Some of my favorite painters even came to that show and seemed excited about what I was doing. This was something I never could have imagined.

New York is such a unique place in that way—it can be challenging, but it’s also where you’ll find people who share your passion and excitement.

5. Institutional Exhibitions

You’ve had significant exhibitions at places like M WOODS and Columbia University’s Wallach Art Gallery. How does working on institutional shows differ from working with commercial galleries? Do you approach them differently?

The M WOODS and Wallach Art Gallery shows were incredible experiences, largely because I had the opportunity to collaborate with curators. That kind of collaboration is always so valuable to me—it pushes me to think about my work in new ways and helps the ideas evolve. It’s more of a dialogue, where the curator’s perspective can reveal elements in the work that I hadn’t consciously recognized yet.

In contrast, working with a commercial gallery feels more like presenting a singular vision. The benefit of this approach is the freedom to explore ideas quickly and share them, even if I don’t fully understand them at the time. It’s a space for experimentation and immediacy.

Institutional shows, on the other hand, are about stepping back and taking the time to process everything. They involve carefully selecting works that contribute to a larger, cohesive vision and presenting them with intention—not just for me, but also for the curator. Sometimes, ideas that seem clear in my mind turn out to be more nuanced than I realized, and working with a curator helps to bring those layers to the surface. I believe a good curator works with the artist to uncover ideas together, rather than simply using the artist to illustrate an existing concept they have.

6. Dream Projects

If you could create anything without limits, what would your dream project look like? Would it involve a museum, public art, or something else entirely?

Recently, I’ve been working with Unreal Engine, a computer program that makes it surprisingly easy to create believable, immersive video game worlds. What I love about digital tools is how they help me explore ideas without limits—or at least with fewer limits. These virtual worlds allow me to imagine freely, and they often serve as a starting point for creating physical works in the future.

For example, on my website, I created a downloadable version of a virtual sculpture park. It’s a space where all the real sculptures I’ve made exist in one place, and you can run around and explore them. I’ve also started designing a museum building in this digital world where all my paintings will eventually be displayed. I plan to put that online soon, too. Instead of just imagining I can create a way to share my ideas even with things that might not be possible yet.

7. Emotion in Art

Your pieces often evoke a mix of joy, melancholy, and nostalgia. How do you go about translating such complex emotions into visual form?

I think a lot of it is intuitive. I don’t usually set out with a specific emotion in mind or try to force an idea into a particular feeling. Instead, I let things naturally take shape. For example, if I notice that a sketch I’ve made feels joyful, I’ll explore and build on that, rather than starting with the intention to create a painting about joy.

My work is also often tied to specific life events or moments. If I’m reflecting on something particular while creating, those emotions naturally carry through into the work. It’s less about consciously translating complex emotions and more about allowing them to surface and take form through the process.

8. Favorite Works

Is there a particular piece or project that holds a special place in your heart? What makes it stand out to you?

This can change depending on the moment, but for a long time, my favorite painting was “High Horse”. It’s a large blue horse on a red background that I made in grad school, and it felt like a breakthrough for me. The painting was much more expressive than my earlier work, which had been a bit tight. With “High Horse”, I found a balance between using an airbrush and a paintbrush that felt just right. I think I loved that painting so much because it marked a moment of personal growth—it managed to feel both controlled and free at the same time.

Right now, I’m going through another similar moment as I explore oil painting. It’s been somewhat frustrating as I adjust to the medium, but it’s also exciting to discover new possibilities and techniques I haven’t tried before. That process of learning and growing is what keeps things fresh and meaningful for me.

9. Future Aspirations

As you look ahead, what excites you most about the future of your practice? Are there new tools or mediums you’re eager to explore?

I’m not sure if “exciting” is the right word, but AI has been fascinating to observe and experiment with. What shocks me most is how quickly it’s improving—it feels like we’re on the verge of a dramatic shift in how we interact with computers. I imagine machine interactions will soon become much more conversational, fundamentally changing the way we use technology.

That said, I’m concerned about how tech companies might limit or monitor how we use these tools. The idea of something like Elon Musk’s Neuralink, with complete access to our personal lives, feels unsettling. A dystopia that feels almost unavoidable at this point. But, I think technology itself isn’t inherently bad—it’s the fact that it’s owned and controlled by profit-driven companies. When profits are prioritized over what’s best for society, it leads to questionable and often harmful decisions.

On a more positive note, I’ve been exploring oil painting recently. It feels like a full-circle moment—creating images of today using a medium that has been around for centuries. I love the airbrush and will continue to use it but there is something nice about making a painting with the same exact tools as someone from the Renaissance to reveal how different the world is now.

10. The Role of Institutions

What’s your perspective on the role of institutions in supporting contemporary artists like yourself? How do you see their influence evolving?

One of my good friends, Rafael Rozendaal, has his work displayed on a massive screen at MoMA right now. It’s been really exciting to see something he’s worked on for so long—moving digital images as art—being embraced by such an important institution. At the same time, it felt strange, seeing this once-radical idea in the museum. It was something he had talked about many years ago. He’d say someday the whole wall at a museum will be a screen. I was talking to Rafael about it, and he said something that stuck with me: by their nature, museums are always dealing with the past. He had envisioned this years ago and the day finally came. Museums are basically just a record of the art that’s happened. I guess the best thing to do is embrace and appreciate that aspect. Museums play an important role in taking care of art for the long term and introducing it across generations.

11. Advice for Emerging Artists

Lastly, what advice would you give to young artists who are navigating the art world, especially those who want to integrate technology into their practice?

Regardless of medium the most important thing is always to explore what you are truly interested in. This might seem self-explanatory, but it’s always worth reminding people. No one else knows where you’re going with your work—you’re the only one who can take it there and show others. That requires trusting yourself and staying true to your vision.

On a more practical note, one lesson I’ve learned is to trust people, but also to set good boundaries. Simple, practical things—like having clear consignment agreements—are really important. Ensuring everyone is on the same page helps avoid misunderstandings, and if someone truly has your best interests in mind, they’ll want to have those conversations with you. Some people might be doing what is best for them and not always what is best for your work. Only you know what that is.