Interview
Michelle Cox-Hurrell
Michelle is a multidisciplinary visual artist whose practice is shaped by a lifelong curiosity for both art and science. Her creative journey began with painting, but gradually expanded into installation and sculpture—immersive, tactile forms that allow me to explore light, memory, and transformation through intuitive processes and playful materials. Before fully committing to art, she studied architecture for a year, delving into design and structural concepts. That experience sparked a desire to travel and witness the buildings she had admired from afar. A pivotal moment came in Barcelona, where a beaded flower installation stirred something profound—a sensory experience that deepened her love for spatial storytelling. In Birmingham, UK, Michelle studied wire sculpture, crafting expressive animal forms, and spent countless hours hand building with clay—practices that continue to inform the textures and forms in her work today. In her twenties, she worked as an atmospheric scientist, driven by a passion for understanding and protecting the planet.
That scientific lens still informs her art, especially in projects that blend activism and political commentary. While at university, Michelle won the Verge Art Award for a video project that fused art and science experiments—an early sign of the hybrid path she would follow. She studied traditional painting and drawing at Julian Ashton’s Art School, and later expanded into conceptual art and sculpture at Sydney College of the Arts, where she worked with Mikala Dwyer, who encouraged intuitive making. Since completing art school, Michelle has exhibited in Melbourne at Off the Kerb Gallery and Trocadero Art Space, and was selected for the Dear Agnes Project—a funded outdoor installation initiative. She is currently represented by Monat Gallery in Madrid, with recent exhibitions at the gallery and participation in international art fairs including ART3F in Monaco and ART MUC in Munich.
What is your background and how did you start your journey in the art world?
“I’m a visual artist with a lifelong love of light, colour, and curiosity. Born in the vibrant swirl of the 1970s, I grew up in Australia surrounded by the playful energy of Muppets, bold fashion, and the optimism of the era. My childhood was shaped by inspiring art teachers who nurtured my imagination from primary school through high school, planting the seeds of a creative life. As a first-generation Australian, my heritage is steeped in stories. My parents emigrated from Ireland and Britain in the 1960s—my mother was a ten-pound Pom from a long line of seamstresses, and my father descended from Irish carriage makers. I carry their legacy in my hands: craftsmanship, resilience, and an adventurous spirit. I trained in traditional painting and drawing at Julian Ashton’s Art School, and later explored conceptual art and sculpture at Sydney College of the Arts. The SCA campus in Rozelle, Sydney, was nestled in a historic 19th-century building that felt like a sanctuary for creative minds. My journey has been anything but linear, but every twist has added depth to my practice. I see art as a way to connect disciplines, history, cultures, and emotions—a lens through which to explore light, memory, and the quiet magic of everyday life.”
What inspires you?
“My art begins with a question, a spark, a material remembered from childhood. I work intuitively, often setting myself small challenges: how to make magnetism visible, how to sculpt a flower from aluminum and thread, how to turn a forgotten object into something treasured. Painting is my anchor. I’m currently working with gouache, drawn to its velvety opacity and immediacy. My brushwork is expressive, experimental, and deeply tied to mood. I want the viewer to feel inside the painting, as if the light is falling on them too. I grew up sewing clothes and wearing dance costumes, surrounded by sequins, wool, ribbons, and cords. These textures live on in my work, not just as materials but as memories. Historical fashion and floral ornamentation fascinate me—how decoration tells stories, how fabric holds emotion. I’ve always been drawn to the sparkle of beads, the weight of glass, the quiet elegance of semi-precious stones. Sculpture is where I play. I build flowers from wire and mesh, observing the natural world closely—its colours, its structures, its quiet resilience. I love stencil art and spray paint, especially when it transforms the discarded into something radiant. My practice is a celebration of curiosity and transformation. It’s rooted in the joy of making, the beauty of light, and the emotional resonance of form. Whether I’m painting, sculpting, or assembling, I’m always chasing that moment when something ordinary becomes extraordinary—when art sings.”
What themes do you pursue? Is there an underlying message in your work?
“A central theme in my work is the intersection of art and science. Having studied the physics of light and weather, I’m endlessly fascinated by how light moves, bends, and transforms—how it shapes our perception and evokes emotion. This curiosity guides my creative process, whether I’m painting reflections after rain or sculpting forms that echo natural phenomena. I aim to capture light’s beauty in a way that feels fresh and joyful, inviting the viewer to see the world with renewed wonder, as if for the very first time. My paintings revisit the classical theme of the figure in the landscape, inviting the viewer to step into the scene and experience its atmosphere firsthand. I draw inspiration from contemporary photographic sources and occasionally AI-generated imagery, using them as starting points to explore mood, light, and transformation. Like the impressionists and Turner, I’m captivated by the interplay of weather and illumination—particularly the dreamy effects of rain-soaked ground and night-time lights. These elements create soft reflections and shifting textures, allowing the figure and the landscape to merge in a moment of quiet resonance.”
How would you describe your work?
“I work primarily with gouache—a medium that suits my spontaneous, wet-on-wet painting style. Its quick-drying nature allows me to move intuitively, keeping colours bright, lively, and full of energy. I’m drawn to light effects: reflections after rain, the glow of streetlights, the cinematic mood found in film and photography. These moments inspire my palette, which shifts between soft pastels, saturated hues, and deep tones. For years I avoided black, like the impressionists, but now I embrace the full spectrum—especially when painting night scenes. My compositions often feature urban landscapes with figurative elements. I want the viewer to feel connected, as if they’ve stepped into the scene. I favour asymmetry and complexity over clean lines and order. I’m not patient with drying times—I prefer immediacy, movement, and the chaos of creation. This reflects my personality and mental process: I embrace the mess, the layering, the soft edges of light viewed from a distance. My work owes something to the plein air painters of impressionism, especially in its responsiveness to atmosphere and light. I love mixing colours directly on the canvas, letting unexpected combinations emerge. Spray paint and stencils also find their way into my practice, especially when transforming found objects into something treasured. Each piece begins with curiosity and ends in emotion. I want my paintings to feel immersive—to transport the viewer into a fleeting moment. Whether I’m working with gouache, wire, or beads, I’m always chasing that spark of connection between material, memory, and mood.”
Which artists influence you most?
“My tastes are drawn to the unpredictable, the immersive, the poetic. I’m captivated by installations, especially those that embrace chaos and chance. I remember a stunning piece I saw at ACCA: crystals and plants cultivated in tandem, a living sculpture that blurred the line between nature and intention. It felt like watching entropy bloom. I’m also drawn to installations that elevate the mundane—everyday objects reimagined, transformed into something strange and beautiful. There’s something magical in that tension between order and disorder, between the familiar and the surreal. When it comes to painters, I admire Gustav Klimt, Frida Kahlo, Georgia O’Keeffe, Basquiat—but Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks (1942) holds a special place. It’s not the style I paint in, but the mood speaks to me. The cinematic lighting, the quiet tension, the loneliness suspended in time—it’s a portrait of life’s in-between moments. The palette of nighttime low light evokes a kind of emotional chiaroscuro. It’s storytelling without words. Film is another deep influence. I’m a film buff, and I often find myself drawn to photographs that feel cinematic—like stills from a story unfolding just beyond the frame. The cinematography in Taxi Driver left a mark on me: gritty, moody, hypnotic. I was also mesmerized by Kieślowski’s Three Colours trilogy—Red, White, and Blue—each film a masterclass in visual poetry. And of course, the dreamlike darkness of David Lynch’s work—his use of shadow and silence—continues to inspire me.”
“The underlying message in my work is to create awareness around the beauty and versatility of wool in the home.”
What is your creative process like?
“I’m drawn to figurative images of people in urban landscapes—especially those illuminated by light effects at night, or softened by rain and reflections. These scenes inspire my gouache paintings, where I work intuitively with colour and brush strokes to evoke atmosphere and mood. If the source photograph leans toward abstraction, I embrace that ambiguity, allowing it to shape the composition. My process is fluid and responsive, guided by emotion and the interplay of light, shadow, and movement. My art is a response to wonder. I’m drawn to subjects that make me pause—a glint of light after rain, the intricate structure of a Banksia flower, the quiet drama of night reflections. These moments feel like invitations to look closer, to see the world anew. I work intuitively, often quickly, letting the materials guide me. Gouache allows me to explore mood and movement with immediacy, while mixed-media sculpture gives me space to build stories—biographical explorations shaped into decorative trophies and vases inspired by 19th-century design. I love combining beads, wire, mesh, and fabric, drawing from my childhood memories of sewing dance costumes, surrounded by sequins, wool, and ribbon.
When I paint, I feel relaxed—time stands still. I sit close to the canvas, immersed in colour, often mixing paint directly on the surface to create spontaneity. My brushstrokes are expressive, and I focus on capturing a mood that transports the viewer into the moment. I want my paintings to feel like a portal—an emotional echo of the photograph or memory that inspired them. I’m inspired by nature, history, and the decorative arts. I research the origins of decorative objects, explore physics or magnetism or explore childhood materials, and challenge myself to transform the ordinary into something treasured. My process is both playful and focused—sometimes chaotic, sometimes logical—but always driven by joy. I create for myself and for others. I hope my work invites people to slow down, to notice beauty, to feel something. It’s both catharsis and commentary, internally motivated but outwardly shared. Each piece is a homage—to light, to memory, to the quiet magic of the everyday.”
What is an artist’s role in society and how do you see that evolving?
“I believe art has the power to reflect society and capture cultural shifts. In my paintings, I often depict scenes of everyday life—women walking alone through cityscapes, figures illuminated by the glow of smartphones—moments that speak to our contemporary experience. These images were once rare, but now they are part of our visual landscape. I paint figures in a softly defined way, allowing abstraction to shape the mood and meaning. As the subject views the scene, we in turn view her viewing—creating a layered perspective that invites reflection. My use of soft lines and shifting colours reinforces this sense of ambiguity and emotional resonance. In my earlier work, I’ve explored political themes such as climate change and feminism, believing deeply in the power of art to offer commentary on the world around us. I admire artists who respond to society with courage and nuance, and I strive to do the same. A recurring motif in my paintings is the solo female figure in the landscape—a symbol of autonomy, yet often tinged with a sense of isolation or disorientation. These figures reflect both personal and collective experiences, inviting viewers to consider the emotional undercurrents of contemporary life.”
Have you had any noteworthy exhibitions you'd like to share?
“While at university, I was awarded the Verge Art Prize for a video project that fused art and science experiments—an early expression of my interdisciplinary approach. After I moved to Melbourne, I’ve exhibited in Melbourne at Off the Kerb Gallery and Trocadero Art Space, where I explored themes of climate change through animation and reflected on womanhood across different life stages. I was selected for the Dear Agnes Project, a funded outdoor installation initiative that brought contemporary land art into public spaces. For this, I created large-scale Banksia sculptures—highlighting endangered native species—and used curve stitching and rope to form circular forms, creating an installation beneath a grove of trees. I am currently represented by Monat Gallery in Madrid, with recent exhibitions of both paintings and sculpture, and have participated in international art fairs including ART3F in Monaco and Art MUC in Munich. I have participated in shows with Arrival Gallery in Athens and Brooklyn this year and I have a show coming up with the M.A.D.S gallery metaverse. My sculpture was part of a 2024 virtual exhibition called Authentic with Tapiial Virtual.”
