“I’m happy I have it”: Abel Kabel explores their recent diagnosis of Asperger’s Syndrome in their beautiful paintings

Nowadays, the painter Abel Kabel describes their work as being “rough” or “crude”, but it didn’t start out that way. “When I first started,” the Danish artist tells It’s Nice That, “I tried to make my paintings ‘perfect’ but then I realised that there is no such thing, and I went in another direction.” Abel combines texture with wonderful line drawings sprawled on top, using heavy doses of thick paint across the canvas. He confidently marks the surface of dense blocks of colour, creating a charged balance between the light and the heavy, and in turn, fine art and illustration.

Currently working out of their apartment in Aarhus, Abel tells us: “I like making crummy paintings, I still find them beautiful and I try my best to maintain a balance between the two,” (the two being perfection and crudeness.) As a child, he remembers playing with his dad’s old paint tubes and brushes. It’s their first memory of being creatively inquisitive, and he looks back on it as the first time he recalls wanting to paint.

Ever since, he has crafted an original practice which is complex, naive and energetic. Inspiration-wise, they look predominantly to everyday life to inform the compositions. Everything and anything, from the things they see on the internet, in movies or through friends can spark an idea. It just has to be something they like, from which they will take notes, and then translate onto the canvas.

“Recently, I’ve been very inspired by graffiti artists,” Abel continues. “In many ways, I think I am very self-centred in my work. I like using myself and my experiences as subjects. I like exploring myself like that.” In this way, and by holding up a magnifying glass to Abel’s wonderful canvases, we can see glimmers of the artist’s interests through the painterly strokes. The multiplicity of masculinity, for example, can be seen in his painting Billy Elliot, where boxing gloves and the words “ballet” and “oi dancing boy” are scrawled across the canvas.

Another of Abel’s works is titled Babsi. He tells us about its origins: “I read Wir Kinder von Bahnhof Zoo when I was about Babsi’s age and it really stuck with me.” The story relays that of Berlin’s youngest drug victim who posthumously helped raise awareness of increasing drug use among teenagers. “She died in the 70s from heroin,” continues the artist, “and though retelling a story sometimes means certain details are missed, my painting serves as a tribute to her.”

Elsewhere, in Katrine Sorg, he draws on his own experiences once more, but this time, investigating his Asperger’s Syndrome. “I’m very fascinated with ASD,” he explains on the matter, “and only really recently discovered my diagnosis.” In turn, the painting depicts their name alongside the word “sorg” meaning grief or sadness in Danish. It’s a moving piece, steeped in hues of grey and white amidst a faceless head with chestnut brown hair.

Painting, as a consequence, has become a means of investigation, a way to figure out “what it means to me” and a way to express such feelings. “Most of all, I’m happy I got it,” he says. As for the future, Abel hopes to further explore and develop their artistry further, and “hopefully along the way,” he concludes, “grow as a person and artist. Every day is more fun and I’m excited for what the future holds.”