In Conversation With Lauren Brincat

IN CONVERSATION WITH.LAUREN BRINCAT

We spent an afternoon at the studio of Lauren Brincat, surrounded by past works spanning performance, sound, and sculpture. As we captured her in our new collection, she spoke candidly about how her practice has evolved, why art became her natural language, and how material and movement continue to shape her thinking.

Why art, and why did it become the language you chose to speak in?

Art has always been my first language. It allows ideas to move through material, space, and the body in ways words cannot. I’m fascinated by the moment where thought meets embodiment, where you can test something through making rather than explain it. Working with fabric, sound, and form lets me explore how environments shift and respond, and allows ideas to unfold physically, not just through words.

You often work across performance, sound and, sculpture. How do you decide what form an idea needs to take, or does the material usually lead the thinking?

It’s rarely a fixed decision at the start. Usually, the work begins with a feeling, an image, or a question, and the form reveals itself through making. I move between performance, sound, and sculpture fluidly; each offers a different way for the idea to inhabit space and time. Often, the material leads; fabric, sound, or the body will suggest a direction, and I follow that dialogue until the work finds its form.

You have an upcoming residency in Prato with Monash University. How did the opportunity come about, and what about working in Prato appeals to you at this stage of your practice?

I applied for the Monash University Prato Residency because it felt like the right moment to immerse myself in a context that resonates deeply with my practice. Prato’s rich textile history offers a rare chance to work close to the material, social, and industrial legacies of cloth-making.
What excites me most is engaging with the city’s layered histories—archives, workshops, and markets—while exploring textiles as living, moving agents. This research is also connected to my family: my Italian Egyptian grandmother worked in a textile factory after migrating to Australia, and her skilled, repetitive labour continues to shape how I think about making.
Being in Prato allows me to trace, honour, and reimagine women’s roles in textile production and develop site-responsive installations and performances. It’s an opportunity to slow down, experiment, and let textiles guide the dialogue between history, body, and space.

How conscious are you of fashion as a language when you’re building a performance, and what role does it play?

I see fashion more as costume—a layer the body inhabits rather than just wears. It shapes presence, gesture, and how the work moves through space. Layers, textures, and weight become part of the performance’s vocabulary; they can conceal, reveal, or shift perception.

The art world has undergone significant transformation during your career. What shifts have felt most significant to you, and what opportunities or challenges do you see defining the next decade?

The most significant shift has been a dissolving of the walls that once separated art from life. For a long time, the art world tried to isolate itself—inside markets, institutions, categories—but those walls are dissolving. Artists today are listening again: to Indigenous knowledge, to the voices of the land, and to collective memory. Art can be anywhere and is in fact everywhere.

How would you describe your personal style?

It’s simple, comfortable, and a little undone. I like things that feel lived in and move with me rather than against me. There’s a quiet elegance in pieces that don’t try too hard, soft cottons, worn-in denim, things that age with time. It’s less about fashion and more about what feels like me.