Serene but disquieting paintings by Sarah Schneider

While there’s nothing especially unusual or out of place in the still, unpeopled scenes of Sarah Schneider’s paintings, there’s undoubtedly something intriguing, disquieting even. Rendered in eerie stillness, it feels almost like the calm before the storm, each little soap dispenser, tissue or chair sitting idle, waiting for something to happen to it.

Sarah’s work belies her youth – she doesn’t graduate from her illustration MFA at Maryland Institute and College of Art until this May – skilfully conveying the human stories and emotions contained in constructed, physical spaces.

“The images I create usually begin with something found—a place (church basement, gas station restroom, a friend’s bedroom), an object (a torn shirt, junk mail, a jar of peanut butter), or a pre-existing image (a thrift store photograph, an advertisement from a 1960s LIFE magazine)," Sarah explains. “Through a process of narrative building and free association, I create composite images from the things I find. With a devotion to the observational, I create work in attempt to celebrate, or simply to cope with, a world of melancholic absurdity, before it slips away.”