Abbie Griffiths (B. 1987) is a British artist currently working in London, UK. She received a BA from University of London, School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS) and a Post Baccalaureate at Lyme Academy College of Fine Arts in Connecticut, USA.

Abbie's practice investigates the interplay between materials, spaces, and the human experience. Her abstract figurative sculptures are crafted from materials intrinsic to the environments they inhabit—rebar, plaster, concrete, and domestic fabrics—creating a dialogue between form and context.

Each body of work begins with an exploration of barriers and surfaces, examining the permeability between inner and outer realms and the profound ties between the tangible and intangible aspects of human life. Abbie's sculptures engage themes of womanhood, intimacy, domesticity, spirituality, and the subconscious, drawing on connections to materials, rituals, and ancestral narratives.

Abbie has exhibited internationally, showing works in London, Italy, Kenya, and North America.

CV available upon request

Curatorial texts

Classical Domesticism by Rachel Stratton, Modern and Contemporary Curator and Research Associate at Yale Center for British Art

Abbie Griffiths’ sculptures challenge categorization and embody contradiction. The classical form of a winged Nike, goddess of victory, is constructed using common domestic materials – polyurethane foam, old bedsheets, and washed-out pillowcases. The bed clothes bear the marks of years of use, a rejection of the static, youth of the classical ideal. Reality is laid bare, the passage of time and the degradation of all things. The polyurethane foam also ages, gaining a warm golden hue through exposure to sun. Generally used to fill the spaces between, the foam here takes on a form of its own, a mass of tumorous bulges, a body without skin. Without this protective layer, interior spills forth, the messy stuff of everyday living.

[On “Tempered”, 2022] A hand extends from nowhere grasping at the flesh of a writhing torso, its fingers brushing the inner thigh in a gesture both erotic and violent. Bernini’s Daphne and Apollo comes to mind in the contorted form of a figure twisting in motion and the sensual touch of a hand on flesh. Like Bernini’s piece, it captures a moment of explosive movement trapped in stasis. Yet, where Bernini depicts the dramatic climax of this tale of thwarted lust, Griffiths leaves narrative ambiguous and unresolved. We are left questioning whether the advance is invited or unwanted, whether we are witness to a moment of pleasure or fear? Voyeuristic unease creeps in and still we remain in place, drawn deeper into this climax without end.