“Or You Could Panic,” 2025
Visual artist Ben Ashton pits convention and disruption against each other in his hyperrealistic portraits with a twist. The London-based creator has long studied the work of the Old Masters. Not only did he perfect their techniques, creating richly detailed portraits, but he has also taken these elements to upend this longstanding art tradition, sending a completely different message. His distorted paintings evoke a glitch in a classic portrait, questioning what this medium has long stood for and what it means for the future.
To Ashton, portraiture is familiar, running deep as part of our earliest and easiest encounters with art. That’s why seeing it challenged results in a shocking, unexpected distortion for viewers. Predominantly working with oil on canvas or panel, Ashton recently raised the stakes of his paintings, as the art within seems to be in a struggle with its canvas—adding a sculptural layer to an already charged piece.
For all the classical elements in his work, Ashton also ponders what the growing influence of AI on art and culture means for the future of his medium, and even about the role of the creator itself. Whether it’s unnerving experiments with learning models or geopolitical crises, a boiling sense of anxiety runs through Ashton’s work. It’s as if, in capturing these distortions, the artist captures the moment this unnerving feeling jumps from the painting, hoping to catch the viewer off guard.
We had the opportunity to talk to the artist about his visual work and process. Read on for My Modern Met’s interview with Ben Ashton.
“Let Them Eat Fake,” 2023
How did your painting journey begin?
Though I grew up surrounded by the arts, my painting journey began in Newcastle during my time at university. It was there that I encountered the work of Caravaggio, the first Old Master I really studied. With a father who was an abstract painter, I had grown up on a steady diet of abstract expressionism, so seeing Caravaggio’s work was a revelation. His ability to create such realistic illusions in the 1500s, with their dramatic lighting and theatrical compositions, captivated me. His works felt like stage sets, existing in a beautifully lit black void, and that vision inspired me to pursue art that was focused on creating three-dimensional illusions in space.
I approached painting as an apprentice, methodically learning each step of the craft—from preparing gesso to layering glazes—guided by historical texts like The Craftsman’s Handbook. I was determined to master the technical foundations before attempting more ambitious work. While many of my peers focused on concepts, I wanted to develop a mastery of skill, to execute ideas with precision. That deliberate, foundational approach has shaped everything I’ve done since.
“Or You Could Panic,” 2025
What drew you to traditional portraiture, and what inspired you to distort and experiment with it?
I was drawn to portraiture because of its enduring role in art history and the inherent legacy it conveys. For centuries, the rich and powerful have used portraiture to assert their importance, and the walls of institutions and museums are lined with these symbols of status. This vast visual history is a rich source to draw upon, ripe for reinterpretation or subversion.
After mastering traditional techniques, I found it exhilarating to break the rules I had so painstakingly learned. Portraiture is universally understood and deeply ingrained in our collective visual language, so distorting it creates a jarring effect. The subject lures the viewer into a false sense of security, only for the disruptions in the painting to completely disorient them. This interplay between the familiar and the unsettling is what drives my experimentation.
I first started employing these digital-style distortions as a reaction to Brexit here in the UK. The public had been convinced to isolate itself through rhetoric of past glories from days of Empire. My way of dealing with my anxiety around this was to take the essence of the confident portraits of this period of British history and subvert them using glitches and distortions, making the past unsafe, tainted, and ridiculous. This idea of “restoration” or moving backward in order to move forward, is not a new idea and is certainly not confined to the UK, as I have witnessed it happening all over the world in times of uncertainty and it is this I am responding to in much of my work.
“FFS,” 2024
What does your creative process look like?
When I start working on a new series of work I tend to draw my inspiration from anxieties I have in modern-day life, such as issues in geo-politics or, more recently, the rise of AI. It is then a habit to relate these current events to periods of art history, as this has always been the lens through which I view everything. I am aware of history’s cyclical nature so relating the present to the past helps contextualize things in my mind.
I then tend to create characters who become protagonists or anti-heroes in my paintings. This often precipitates the creation of costumes that I make out of the cheapest recyclable materials such as plastic bags and cardboard. I have found that creating elaborate costumes out of these basic materials brings an element of humor to the characters that is so important to my work.
These characters are then placed within appropriate scenes and then distorted through my painting process.These glitches and schisms are inspired by cheap or accidental digital effects that seem incongruous when applied to this style of historic portraiture.
“Or You Could Panic,” 2025
Some of your works have a sculptural elements to them, as their canvases gets equally distorted. Is there a challenge to this? In your mind, what comes first, the canvas or the painting?
In my recent works, I have designed compositions that have carried my distortions into the shape of the canvases, and so I have started to produce these intricately shaped panels. I’ve taught myself a variety of woodworking techniques to hand-cut and shape each panel. Once the panel is prepared, I gild the edges and apply layers of gesso, each meticulously sanded to perfection. This preparatory work is time-consuming but meditative, preparing me mentally for the painting process.
Drafting the image onto the panel often takes as long as the painting itself. My drawings are highly detailed, mapping out contours and guiding every mark I’ll make with paint. This precision allows me to be intentional and confident when applying paint, minimizing mistakes.
When I finally get started on painting these pieces, it’s quite a relief. When you start to see the image appearing on the panel, it always feels magical. After the initial painting layers are complete, I move into the glazing process, where transparent layers of color bring depth and vibrancy. This stage shapes the shadows, enhances facial features, and gives elements like eyes their characteristic gloss. It’s a method rooted in Old Master techniques, and one that I’ve spent years trying to understand.
“Or You Could Panic,” 2025
Who are the people in your paintings? Do you work based on existing people or portraits?
For many years, I almost exclusively painted myself and members of my family, in truth because they were the most accessible subjects. However, these weren’t personal portraits—they played characters within the narratives of my paintings. Over time, these works inadvertently became a chronicle of my family, as I began this practice in my 20s and have continued it over decades. In a retrospective context, I thought it would be interesting to see this progression as a visual timeline of our lives.
In my latest series, I’ve expanded beyond this tradition by integrating generated models, in a response to the growing influence of AI on art and culture. I developed three learning models: one based on portraits of my family in costumes from my past works, another on the backgrounds I’ve used in my paintings, and a third on my entire body of completed works. The resulting images are amalgamations of these datasets—new compositions that blend familiarity with something entirely uncanny. These characters, costumes, and settings are both recognizably linked to my previous work and yet entirely new, unsettling creations. It has been a fascinating, albeit slightly disconcerting, collaboration with AI, raising my own anxieties about the future of art and whether the creator could become obsolete.
“In Retrospect,” 2024
Is there a particular painting you’re most proud of or that is your favorite?
My favorite painting is always my next one. I try never to look back, focusing instead on improving and pushing myself further. Once a work is finished, it becomes less significant to me—it’s simply part of my ongoing learning process.
Some of the shapes in my most recent collection have pushed my woodworking abilities to their limits, which has been an incredibly rewarding challenge. Similarly, the level of detail in the backgrounds of this series surpasses that of my earlier works. These achievements only make me wonder how I can push even further in the future. It’s only after a work has existed in the world for several decades that you can start to get a sense of its significance: can it stand the test of history?
I believe all artists are creative problem solvers, driven by an urge to tackle challenges that often exist only in their own minds. It’s this problem-solving that fuels my passion for art and keeps me striving for what’s next.
“Or You Could Panic,” 2025
What do you hope people will take away from your art?
I hope people find whatever resonates with them in my work. It’s not important to me that viewers understand my intentions or the reasons behind my choices. In fact, I find it fascinating when people interpret my work in ways I never anticipated.
As a child, I often walked through galleries reading long artist statements that explained conceptual works. Those explanations were often essential to understanding the art, which left me yearning for works that could communicate directly without words. My reaction was to create visually impactful pieces that require little explanation and can connect with a wide audience on an instinctive level. Lately art has been taken off its pedestal and is consumed by a greater cross-section of society, and I certainly believe this to be a positive development.
Social media has wholly transformed the relationship between artists and audiences, allowing for immediate dialogue. I enjoy the opportunity to engage with viewers personally, answering their questions and hearing how my work has affected them. This connection is an essential and rewarding part of my practice.
“Or You Could Panic,” 2025
Can you tell me a bit about your upcoming exhibition in March?
I have a solo exhibition opening March 15, 2025 at the Corey Helford Gallery in Los Angeles. Titled Or You Could Panic, it will be my largest show to date. The title reflects my ambivalence toward AI and its growing impact on the art world and on society. I find myself torn between a sense of urgency—should we panic?—and the futility of such a response.
The show features 11 new paintings based on everything I have ever done, and on the people I love the most, and yet these are people who have never existed, wearing costumes that have never been made, in realities that cannot be inhabited. These works continue my ongoing historical and cultural examination of portraiture, and its place in a contemporary context.
This exhibition pushes the boundaries of traditional painting, combining classical techniques with cutting-edge technology. It’s both a reflection of our current moment—filled with creativity, uncertainty, and disruption—and an invitation to explore how these forces shape our understanding of art and identity. I hope it will provoke thought, curiosity, and dialogue among viewers.
“Or You Could Panic,” 2025
“Or You Could Panic,” 2025