Artist to Watch: Meghann Stephenson Explores Femininity, Self-Destruction, and Perfectionism in Latest Series
The emerging creative’s latest works are on view beginning September 9 at Half Gallery in New York
The latest works by Meghann Stephenson depict gossamer women against mostly pitch-black fields, probing femininity and self-destructive perfectionism. “It feels like a heavy subject matter,” says the Los Angeles artist of her current series. Fortunately, she adds, the grouping’s title, “Queen of the Neighborhood!”—taken from the Bikini Kill feminist-punk anthem “Rebel Girl”—injects the right dose of lightheartedness.
“The first time the lyric appears in the song, it feels like it’s a setup for an insult,” she explains of the inspiration. “But then you find out it’s such a compliment. I was thinking, ‘What would the queen of hell be if hell were a neighborhood?’” To that end, the show contains an oil canvas for each of the nine circles in Dante’s Inferno, with the set alluding to each sin as viewed through the female gaze; violence and vanity take on a quiet eeriness.
The works, which comprise a show on view from September 9 to October 8 at Half Gallery in New York, follow the lineage of Anna Weyant and Alex Katz, albeit with signature surrealism. In Feels Like Drowning, the protagonist is calmly swallowed by a cloud; in The Mastermind, five uncannily similar girls form a coven-esque circle. “Or are they just chatting? What makes us go there?” asks Stephenson of the sinister assumption. “The works have a jarring perfection. The play between natural and unnatural is a big source of inspiration here.”
That knife’s edge between real and artificial nods to the artist’s adolescence in a Virginia suburb. In one scene, the grass is unkempt; in another, it’s manicured, with a woman trapped by a white picket fence. Her subjects all wear filmy, timeless nightgowns to create an immediate sense of vulnerability. “I was envisioning a kind of dreamscape or nightmare where the figures exist in these very undefined spaces,” explains Stephenson.
Meticulous as her tableaux are, she appreciates accidents during her process. “You can’t really anticipate how a finger will fold over or the shadow of a hand will fall on a cheek,” she muses. “You have to let go a little bit and let things unfold naturally. That’s where the magic happens.”
A version of this article first appeared in print in our 2026 Fall Issue in the section “Artists to Watch.” Subscribe to the magazine.