FACES
Christoffer Eglund Gallery.
1-29 May. Copenhagen, Denmark
Saxon Quinn’s latest body of work, FACES, marks his second exhibition with Danish gallerist Christoffer Eglund. Bold, instinctive and emotionally charged, the works draw on the influence of Asger Jorn, intertwined with Quinn’s own evolving language of faces and masks.
Across the series, faces emerge, dissolve and collide—never fixed, but reflecting something broader and more collective. Like Jorn and the CoBrA painters, Quinn leans into a raw, childlike approach, prioritising instinct and imagination over control.
“While writing about theworks, Luna, my eldest daughter, had me guessing the animals she was drawing” Quinn says.
“She had drawn beautiful snakes that looked like buses, toucans that looked like a mix of beast and bin-chicken - with hands similar to ‘The Girl’ by Jorn. Later in the evening, I photographed each of her drawings, to forge in the studio… similar to a kid cheating his end-of-year exams.”
“My children are a huge influence on all of the work I do – they help to re-teach the authentic hand and imagination combo.”
The works carry a sense of speed and intensity, gestures urgent and alive, offering a glimpse into the artist’s inner world—its surges, chaos, freedom and clarity.
“Coming from a design background—My earlier works were tighter, cleaner, safer - planned hierarchy and placement.. Over time, work loosened. I knew I’d struck something, and that I had more enjoyment when painting like this - more freedom.” Quinn adds, “I now really wanted to keep going without restraint or doubt, to move in this direction rather than shy away from it”
Learning about Jorn’s shift toward a more instinctive way of working struck a chord for Quinn—not as a comparison, but as a nudge to let go, trust the process, and allow the work to open up.
At the surface level, FACES returns to a simple instinct of imagination and discovery - seeing faces in our surroundings.
“I remember as a kid lying in my room staring at the pine ceiling boards—I’d see faces in the knots of the wood, eyes, noses and mouths looking like ghoulish possums and other rodents,” Quinn recalls.
“Walking down the street, oil stains and scars in the pavements resembling smiles, torn stickers and coffee stains appearing as a counterfeit Edvard Munch painting.
Quinn’s works sit within this lineage, yet remain personal. These faces are not individuals, but shared states—worry, relief, amazement, and joy. They echo the strange rhythm of daily life, where emotional highs and lows sit side by side.
Through this body of work, Quinn invites viewers into that same way of seeing—where meaning is fluid, forms are unstable, and faces are everywhere.