About the Artist: Abby Gregg

One might expect the so-called Great Pacific Garbage Patch, often described as a drifting mass of marine waste over twice the size of Texas, to be a barren and lifeless region of old fishing nets and microplastics. However, in 2018, scientists discovered coastal species like crabs and anemone living among the debris—a thriving, novel ecosystem sustaining itself in a kind of artificial coral reef. “I love looking at these images,” Abby Gregg says. “Seeing how there’s this resilience in our ecosystems and this possibility for growth, even when things go awry.”

As a painter, Gregg uses abstract images to explore ideas about the complex systems that make up worlds both real and imagined. This is often inspired by climate anxieties, but her earliest work was a way to overcome a different kind of worry. “I was a really shy kid, and I relied on art as a way to make friends,” she says. On the playground, she would make temporary tattoos for other kids by doodling on scotch tape. “I was 5 or 6, so it was a lot of stars and hearts,” Gregg says. “And I had an obsession with drawing cows for a while.”

She never stopped making art. She received a BFA in painting and art education from the University of Georgia and then an MFA in studio arts from the San Francisco Art Institute (SFAI). Her work has earned a number of awards, including the Outstanding Graduate Student Award at SFAI, and has been exhibited in galleries across California, Colorado, and Georgia. She is currently a part-time professor at Oglethorpe University, Kennesaw State University, and University of Colorado Denver.

Gregg’s work uses speculative landscapes as a way to depict intricate, natural systems—ones that exist outside human understanding. While she finds inspiration from science fiction writers like Octavia Butler and fellow artists like Otobong Nkanga, she also draws from a surprising source. “My dad is a diabetes epidemiologist,” Gregg says. “Ideas around diabetes research have been floating through my household my whole life. It’s something I’ve always thought about.”

Her most recent work, for instance, considers microscopic worlds within worlds. “Within our own bodies, we have these wildly interconnected systems,” she says. “When I hear my dad talk about diabetes and the complexity of it, I’m fascinated by the interconnectedness that allows our bodies to function in the way that they do.”

Like marine life unexpectedly flourishing, Gregg’s art sets up a conflict and then focuses on growth, symbiosis, and the possibilities for reciprocal relationships.

This 16- by 22-inch piece is made from acrylic and oil paint. The process reflects Gregg’s interest in intricate layering. “I built a sculpture out of recycled materials, paper mache, as well as moss and all sorts of unexpected found objects,” she says. “Then I photographed the sculpture. From those photographs, I created this painting, as well as the rest in this body of work.”

The series, Fluid Future, is meant to evoke a living architecture, similar to coral reefs, but one abstracted from the familiar. “I was thinking of it as both a landscape and a figure,” Gregg says. “I wanted it to look like the land itself is alive. Which goes back to that idea of our bodies as a landscape. There are all sorts of interconnected relationships taking place actively within the composition, but it also feels like it could be a living, breathing thing.”

Spongey Relationship is punctuated with shades of green and yellow. “These colors can signify both this natural quality of trees and leaves, but they also have this toxic waste signifier,” she says. “I like the way that those colors can contain both of those things because a lot of my work is about toxicity in our landscapes.” The painting invites the viewer to discover and imagine new ideas and relationships, but it is also meant to be a portrait of a living being.