Anna Park's new show at Lehmann Maupin in London offers a voyeuristic mix of the abstract and the figurative

‘My art education was rooted in the traditional and the technical – how to draw the figure in an anatomically correct way is so ingrained in me,' says Anna Park. ‘It took me a long time to fight against that, but it has helped me so much, because understanding that has allowed me to break the rules.'

Park has enjoyed making her own rules in her large-scale, hard-to-define works. Part abstract, part figurative, her charcoal and ink drawings slyly poke fun at convention in both their style and their content.

It is a big moment for Park, who is preparing for her first major retrospective at Lehmann Maupin in London since joining the gallery last year. Born in Daegu, South Korea, Park moved around a lot as a child, to New Zealand and California before spending eight years in Utah, where she began to develop her artistic identity before heading to New York, where she attended art school. ‘My parents, who are both pharmacists, made so many sacrifices to move us to America and start a new life. My mother allowed me to have the choices she never had growing up.'

Spending her formative years in Utah positioned Park as something of an outsider looking in, a voyeuristic undertone that runs throughout her work. Fragments of this narrative, interspersed throughout abstract swirls, unite an eclectic prism of references, from comic books to vintage pin-ups.

‘A lot of the references come from old comics – they are where my love for drawing came from. It also comes from constantly consuming media and engaging with imagery online. We're inundated with it all the time. I enjoy the aesthetic qualities of vintage comics, or the way that the female figure is portrayed, because it is very old-school Barbie-like, with an exaggerated feminine form. There's very little nuance – women are either vivacious blondes or vixens. But either way, you still have to be hot and sexy, and serve the male gaze.'

In her upcoming show ‘Hot Honey', Park intertwines these inspirations with a larger consideration of the role of the female protagonist, ultimately choosing to unite the two feminine stereotypes together in opposition against their male counterparts. In the abstract tableaux, we spot familiar symbols – bunny ears, top hats – which beckon us behind the scenes of the magic shows that Park creates in her work. Taken out of context, these splashy accessories of the magician's assistant become infused with a new context. Once disjointed, this femininity is hard to place.

‘I love the abstract, more gestural, phonetic drawing style,' Park adds. ‘But then I also love these tight moments of really fine, cartoon or comic book-like illustrations or paintings. So it was me just being very greedy and saying I want to have both. In some works, there are these vignettes, or windows, which also bring a textural element. They are almost an introduction to my inner thoughts, among the chaotic foreground. It's my way of collaging, or injecting these thoughts which inform each other throughout the whole picture.'

Park's tone is playful, satirical, often humorous. The knowing grins of her figures show that they are in on the joke, aware of their role in challenging beauty standards. ‘Having moved around so much as a little kid, your senses are heightened and you are aware of how different you are, especially in Utah, where I was one of very few Asian kids in school,' she says. ‘You become aware of different beauty standards. As a woman, you're constantly aware of yourself. I think every young girl and woman has that confrontation in different ways.'

Park isn't intentionally externalising this in her works. Yet, by pulling references from an eclectic range of sources, including retro pin-up girls, she is challenging a more conventional narrative. ‘These pin-up girls are not reflective of the everyday woman, but I want to place them in these cheeky moments where they are pointing the fun at themselves. It is subverting the narrative of what is very glamorous; the magazine shots with these perfect, unattainable women. I want to place these women so that they are laughing at themselves, too. They do seem beautiful, but then I place them in scenes where they could be doing something really goofy, or in more real moments. I find that twinge of humour in it, and it's not taking itself so seriously.'

'Hot Honey' will be on show from 30 April-30 May at Lehmann Maupin, London W1

This article appears in the May 2026 Milan Preview Issue of Wallpaper*, available in print on newsstands, on the Wallpaper* app on Apple iOS, and to subscribers of Apple News +. Subscribe to Wallpaper* today