Gionatan Scali Mezzanine Gallery

We’re excited to introduce Gionatan Scali as the latest artist featured in our mezzanine gallery at Grow Hackney. With a captivating mix of creativity and personal experience, Gionatan’s work reflects both his musical journey and evolving visual exploration. From abstract landscapes to deeply emotive expressions, his paintings invite you to delve into a world of colour, texture, and meaning. Stop by to experience the new exhibition, where each piece tells a story, sparking thought and conversation.

1. Can you tell us a bit about yourself and your artistic journey?

Absolutely! Where do I even begin? If we’re talking about music, we’ll rewind to 2010, when I was fresh out of my engineering degree. But life had other plans—after a car accident, I made a huge shift. By 2012, I moved to the Netherlands for a year, partly because a girl once asked me to sketch a windmill on a napkin. That moment stuck with me, and two years later, in 2014, I was back in Italy recording my first album, Windmill Girl. At that time, I was performing under the name Johnny Fishborn.

2015 was a major turning point. I went on my first Italian tour, hitting indie venues from Turin and Milan to Florence, Rome, and south Puglia and Calabria. It was an amazing experience, but I felt it was time for something bigger. So, I ventured abroad again, this time to England. I arrived in London in October 2015, changed the project name, and threw myself into pub life. For two years, it was all about survival, but in 2017, I released my first EP, My Curly Hair—a little homage to the gritty pub life that shaped that period.

Then, a new chapter began: I entered a more mystical phase of my life. I embraced a softer, more exploratory sound—this marked the birth of “The Prophet After His Turkish Bath.” I started playing gentler, longer notes and delving into more ambient, soulful vibes. During this time, journaling and sketching became part of my daily routine.

In 2022, I packed up and moved to Barcelona, searching for a warmer, more inspiring environment. That city, particularly the lively Raval neighborhood, sparked a whole new phase for me. I was living in a beautiful Catalan house with a massive terrace overlooking the famous Boqueria Market. One morning, I passed by the local art shop, Piera, and something clicked. I thought, “I’m going to do this. I’m going to invest in the tools I need and dive into painting.”

With the help of my Colombian flatmate’s foldable easel, I began my oil painting journey. I spent the next nine months immersed in the process, creating 28 pieces. By August 2023, I felt my time in Catalonia had come to an end, so I returned to London. This time, I knew I needed a dedicated space for my visual exploration, and that's when I found Grow in Hackney Wick. I took a studio in September 2023, where I currently share space with another painter. My mornings are spent painting, and my afternoons are dedicated to music—heading back to my home studio to play guitar and sing.

And that's my daily life at the moment: a constant blend of sound and color, creating and growing.

2. How would you describe your artistic style and what influences it?

To be honest, I’m still figuring out a style for myself. I feel like I’m a baby in the art world—it's wild to realize I can paint, capture the sea, the sky, or even play with upside-down colors, all without sticking to any particular style. But if we’re getting a bit geeky about it, I’d say I’m drawn to symbolism, especially the non-literal kind. I’m also a fan of abstract expressionism, particularly from the late '30s, with a soft spot for Munch and Man Ray.

In music, I tend to go through phases. Right now, with my new release Modern Man, I felt this pull to get loud again after years of soft, introspective exploration.

What truly influences me, though, is my constant desire to try something new. I’m always chasing fresh experiences, different ways to express myself, and new ways to break the rules.

3. What’s the story behind the four paintings in this exhibition?

There are four works in this exhibition, and while they each have their own stories, I’ll share what comes to mind right now. The first piece is Llama 1967, which is dedicated to an Argentinian friend. It’s chaotic and divided into eight parts. At the bottom, you can spot a little llama. I was reading about Che Guevara’s revolution in 1967, especially his time in Bolivia before his death. The idea that he was fighting to liberate the farmers and animals of the Bolivian countryside inspired the heavy, emotional tone of the piece. What you see in Llama 1967 isn’t so much the place but the emotion tied to it—chaos, struggle, and hope.

Then there's The Black Tower, another colorful yet dark piece where I aimed to combine a naive depiction with sub-horror and mystic tones. I’ve always been drawn to the balance between being playful and naive, yet profound and deep. This piece represents that search for equilibrium.

The Island of the Masks is a 100x100 square painting, depicting a colorful, jungly place with a little island. I have a fascination with islands; this isn’t the first one I’ve painted. I’ve also done The Island of the Symbols. There’s something about isolating an image in one space that feels powerful. It’s not literal, but it carries a feeling. I remember listening to Revenge of the Mozabites by Suns of Arqa while creating it—an incredible album that blends world, dub, Irish, Indian raga, and flamenco music. It influenced the vibe of the piece, bringing that fusion of culture and emotion into the work.

4. Was there a particular moment or experience that sparked these pieces?

While working on The Black Tower, I was captivated by the orangey sky and background, and I felt this strong pull to dive deeper into that color. I spent hours scraping the canvas, fully immersed in the process—almost losing track of time. When I finally stepped back, I felt completely transformed, like I was seeing the world through new eyes. It was as if the experience had erased everything before it, leaving me with a fresh sense of awareness. That immersion in the act of creation sparked something entirely new inside me.

The same thing happened with The Pink Crow. That piece marked my first attempt to break away from anything I had done before, particularly landscapes. I wanted to go fully abstract with just three limited colors: blue, pink, and black. At one point, the pink crow just emerged from the work. It was as if I always knew it had to be there, like it was waiting for the right moment to appear. Crows are often associated with dark, mysterious connotations, typically seen as creatures of the realm of the dead. So, making one pink felt like an act of seeing them in a completely different light. It’s a playful challenge to shift that narrative. I also see crows often in the parks around London, and every time I do, I imagine them in a different color—never quite as they are. The pink crow was my way of bringing that imagined vision to life.

5. How has your artistic practice evolved over the years?

Looking back at this first part of my artistic journey, I can already see a few distinct phases. What I was creating in Barcelona, for example, hasn’t quite been replicated in London. In Barcelona, I was immersed in imaginary landscapes, but here in London, my work has shifted toward more abstract pieces, focusing on emotions and exploring deeper feelings.

London is an intense experience—amazing to live in, but there’s also a certain pressure that I can feel, along with some darker undertones that definitely influence my thought process. Those moods seep into both my music and visual art, reflecting the unique energy of the city.

I’ve realized that time, place, and space all play a huge role in shaping how I work. Right now, I’m feeling a strong urge to travel again. Not that I’m leaving Grow, of course! But I do feel the need to step away and find new inspiration elsewhere for a bit.