Image courtesy of Hadassi Reuben
There’s no single route into David King Reuben’s work... Spanning painting, sculpture, installation, video and music, his practice moves between mediums while remaining rooted in atmosphere, memory and experimentation. Born in 1988 and based in London, Reuben studied at the Hampstead School of Fine Art before completing a BA in Film and Video at the School of Visual Arts in New York. Since then, his work has been shown internationally, from Frieze and Art Basel Miami Beach to collaborations with brands including Louis Vuitton, alongside features in publications such as Vogue, Architectural Digest and Cultured Magazine.
We visited David at his London studio to talk about process, material, repetition and the ideas shaping his current practice. Enjoy!
Image courtesy of Hadassi Reuben
Your work holds this tension between control and release, structure and instinct. Where does that come from in your day to day practice?
It always starts with the body. I used to get people to lie down on the floor and I’d just draw around them. Nothing romantic about it. But somewhere in those outlines, these shapes started showing up. Not invented, more like discovered. Like they were already there, waiting for me to notice.
Now I spend most of my time chasing that feeling in two completely different ways. One is tight, controlled, almost surgical. I know exactly what I’m doing, every move accounted for. And then there’s the other side, which is basically the opposite. No plan. Just moving paint around, messing with texture, letting it get a bit ugly. Half the time I don’t know what it is until it’s already happened.
Some paintings feel like they’re going somewhere important. Others feel like they’re about to fall apart. I like that edge.
If you think of them as people, one of them has their life completely together. Knows where they’re going, probably wakes up early, drinks water, all that.
And the other one’s a bit of a liability. No direction, bad decisions, you know, that guy that trashes your place in a house party, but somehow more interesting to be around. I don’t trust either of them on their own. The work only really works when they’re both in the room, slightly at odds, keeping each other honest.
You’ve spoken about turning to art when words weren’t enough. Is that still true?
Yeah. Nothing’s changed.
If I could say it properly, I wouldn’t paint. I’d write it down, close the book and move on. But some things collapse the moment you try to explain them. Painting is what’s left when language fails.
Your materials have evolved over time. What are you reaching for most right now and why?
-
I used to use anything I could get my hands on. Mostly acrylic. Fast, efficient, gets the job done. If you want quick wins, use acrylic. It forgives you. Covers your mistakes. Lets you pretend you know what you’re doing. But it’s a bit like a beautiful corpse. Looks right at first glance. Then you realise there’s no pulse. It dries flat. It’s dead.
These days it’s only oil paint. Oil asks more of you. Time, money, patience, and a bit of chutzpah. You don’t just throw it down and walk away. You commit. And if you get it wrong, the drying time’s a bitch, and you’ve got to live with it. Sometimes for days. Sometimes for weeks.
But when you get it right, it lives. It breaths. It’s truly alive.
Image courtesy of Hadassi Reuben
Your studio has such a strong sense of energy and playfulness! How important is the studio environment to your practice, and how much does the atmosphere of the space shape the way you work day to day?
If you put a plant in a small jar, it’ll grow to the size of the jar.
If you put it in a house, it’ll grow to the size of the house.
And if you put a plant in a forest that never ends, you’ll get a very old, wise, twisted, beautiful and enormous tree.
When a painting isn’t working, what’s your instinct? Strip it back, work over it, or start again?
I set it on fire.
Some things aren’t meant to be saved. They need to burn so the rest can breathe.
A big part of painting isn’t just what you don’t show on a canvas, it’s what you don’t show in a series.
If something’s good but not exceptional, leave it out. It’s better to show three incredible paintings from a series of twenty than to show all twenty and lose the exceptional ones amongst the rest.
We really appreciate the time you've taken with us and one final question. What’s the best piece of advice you’ve ever been given as an artist?
Honestly, none of it really sticks when it matters.
When you’re in it, properly in it, you’re not thinking about advice. You’re not remembering quotes or rules or what someone smarter once told you. You’re just moving. Instinct takes over. That’s the whole point.
If you’re standing there trying to recall what you’re supposed to do, you’ve already lost it.
So the real work isn’t advice. It’s repetition. It’s showing up when you don’t feel like it. It’s getting your hands dirty enough times that something deeper takes over. Like learning to dance until your body knows the steps better than your head ever could. Like playing a song so many times you stop hearing the notes and start feeling them.
Forget about advise, just stay light.
Check out more of Davids incredible work on his website davidkingreuben.com and be sure to follow him on Instagram @davidkingreuben
Add To List
Add a Wishlist
form to add wishlist here