In Alice Herbst’s universe, reality folds like paper and imagination becomes a room one can inhabit. The Swedish artist builds worlds where the body becomes a guiding thread and the scene a mirror of the inner self. Through light, shadow, and objects shaped by her own hands, Herbst turns into both character and witness, inhabiting landscapes that live halfway between the real and the dreamed. Her work is performance, painting, and confession: an intimate ritual that reveals how creation can become a way to remember, to inhabit oneself, and to heal.
Your work beautifully merges performance, set design, and painting. How did you first begin creating these immersive worlds where you both stage and inhabit the scene?
My process has gradually evolved over many years. Initially I worked with wigs, clothing, and a few small props to create the world for my compositions, all with a lot of limitations space-wise, since I was working from home.
When I first began creating my own props, I made a paper cut-out corset, a crinoline from tape and thread, and other pieces crafted entirely from whatever materials I had on hand. That early experimentation led to other ideas, and once I found a suitable studio space, I began filling it with materials and started constructing larger scale sets.
I often included myself in my work from the start, though the purpose slightly shifted over time. At first, I drew my own yoga poses while studying anatomy and proportions. It was also a form of practice in self acceptance. Later, I began using my body and face to inhabit characters. Modeling for my own paintings has always been a kind of therapy, a natural choice, since the stories I tell are deeply personal.
Could you describe your process — from building the set and photographing yourself within it, to transforming that image into a painting?
There is always a theme I begin with - for example, a flower field. That initial idea guides me as I craft the objects and environment needed to create a particular atmosphere. I’m fascinated by how many ways a single object can be represented without relying on its “real-world” form.
A flower, for instance, might appear as a paper cut-out drawing, a shadow silhouette, a negative space formed as a flower, or a projected photograph. I build my sets as layered environments with light, projections, shadows, physical objects, and movement. It is when I combine these different elements that I come as close to my visual idea as possible.
My partner, who is also an artist, photographs the completed set, often with me posed as one of the characters.The final reference image that I work from usually has a collage-like quality. I often deconstruct various photographs taken on set and digitally combine them, adding additional layers of atmosphere.
When I later translate the composition into oil paint on canvas, I’m able to explore the tension between realism and abstraction, and to add additional layers of expression such as brushwork. The process is time-consuming, and I have even heard some describing it as pointless, but to me it is the opposite and I have never ever felt so connected to the process as I do now. I need to know the space and composition intimately - to have lived inside it, for the painting to feel complete.
There’s a cinematic quality in your compositions, as if they were stills from a story unfolding.
How do you think about narrative and movement when you create?
When I am ready to take the photos, in character, I explore the environment I’ve built in the room. I might put on a mask, pick up flowers and interact with cardboard cut-out characters, or move in an exaggerated way - all depending on what I want to express. I like to imagine a story unfolding, where characters reappear in new paintings, returning with altered perspectives and new layers of meaning.
Your paintings seem to exist between reality and imagination, between the staged and the spontaneous. What do you hope the viewer feels when encountering them?
I like to think that my paintings speak to viewers as if they were looking into a mirror. Each person brings their own experiences and associations, leading to a personal response. While I naturally have my own intentions and ideas behind the work, I’m not intending to force a fixed interpretation upon anybody because that kills imagination. A recurring theme for me is the fragility of the mind and the experience of navigating a world shaped by others - but how this
manifests in the paintings, and how it is understood, is entirely up to the viewer’s imagination. Since I began sharing my full creative process from start to finish in video form, I’ve started to see the entire practice as a kind of performance and I look forward to continuing to explore this direction. Many viewers have seen both the finished paintings and the videos of their creation, and I believe that this additional layer of memory offers yet another dimension to how the work can be interpreted.
