UNCANNY BEAUTY
MARCH 2025
Shannon Cartier Lucy's paintings are both alluring and unsettling, drawing viewers in with their beauty while simultaneously provoking a sense of unease. In this interview, she opens up about the deeply personal experiences that have shaped her artistic vision, from growing up with a schizophrenic father to battling addiction and ultimately finding solace in art.
Shannon Cartier Lucy in her studio.
How do people tend to react when they see your paintings?Most people describe them as "quirky," "uncanny," or "strange", a perspective I hadn’t really considered before. For me, art is about expressing the subliminal, evoking an emotional response that feels both deeply familiar and profoundly unfamiliar, often strange and sometimes unsettling. It has always felt natural to me, but I suppose that just confirms that I really am quirky!
Where does that come from?
I think growing up with a schizophrenic father and having such a close, loving relationship with him deeply shaped my perspective. Being around someone whose perception was so radically different made me curious about how we relate to our surroundings.
What did your father and his mental illness teach you?
Looking back, I think I took for granted my ability to embrace contrasts, to mix ideas and perspectives without judgment. It was as if I had an inherent sense of permission, a freedom to see the world in my own way. It made me feel like an outsider at times, but I think we all experience that in some way, it’s just part of being human.
Were there other struggles that built the person you are today?
I struggled with addiction for about a decade. I’m incredibly grateful for the experience, and even more grateful that I made it through to the other side. I remember quitting drugs and riding the train in New York, completely immersed in a self-help book when a stranger struck up a conversation with me, and while chatting I told him that I was an artist and he said “You know sobriety kills art”.
'Woman Drawing Drapes', 2022, courtesy of the artist.
What was going on in your head when he said that?
I remember thinking “Oh my gosh, my life is over”. I was so sensitive at the time, 100% focused on being sober and It felt like a crushing realization. I had bought into the stereotype of the tortured, drug-fueled artist but little did I know, that version of an artist doesn’t actually help you express yourself better. It took me years to understand that the more clarity you have, the better you can articulate your perspective. Sobriety isn’t a limitation; it’s a gift.
Is this partly why you changed paths and turned to psychotherapy…
Yes but not only, it also stemmed from my own personal struggles, growing up as a child surrounded by severe mental illness. I left New York City, changed paths and got my master’s degree with the intention of becoming a psychotherapist. At the time, it felt like the most natural career choice.
Was there any trigger that pulled you back into making art?
Yes, it happened to be a time in my life when an ex-partner reappeared, unexpectedly triggering a wave of childhood memories and emotions. It all surfaced so intensely that I couldn’t hold it back, it just poured out of me. Maybe it was that, combined with a lingering sense of revenge.
How did making art at 40 differ from earlier years?
I’ve always been an artist, but never like this, never so fearlessly, without any concern for the outcome. As I was on a path to becoming a psychotherapist; I didn’t need the art world’s validation. I didn’t care. This felt so cathartic!
'Woman In Black Belt', 2024, courtesy of the artist.
Who are these women in your paintings?
The most direct way to convey my personal experience is through a woman experiencing it. I am not depicting myself because I’m not interested in saying, ‘Look, this is me experiencing this.’ but more than that, it’s me asking, ‘Aren’t you experiencing this too?’. I’d even want a man to look at my work and think, ‘Oh, I get it.’
What about the paintings that seem to be showing some power dynamics?
Even when I depict figures in positions of dominance or submission, it’s not about gendered power struggles, it’s about inner conflict, the contradictions and tensions that exist within all of us. That said, if someone interprets my work literally, as a woman feeling submissive or oppressed, that’s valid too. I don’t want to dictate how anyone should see it. I think there’s something meaningful in allowing space for different interpretations.
Can you tell us more about the painting of the woman in a belt?
With that particular painting, what intrigues me about the image is that she’s constrained, yet seemingly unbothered, so much at ease that she’s snacking. That contradiction is where the meaning emerges, even if I didn’t consciously set out to construct it that way.
What do you have coming up?
I have two shows at the end of year, one in London with Soft Opening gallery and one in Los Angeles with Night Gallery.
'Sex After Death', 2019, courtesy of the artist.
Text by Lisa Boudet