The visual work of American artist Alexander Grawoig explores the tension between control and improvisation, chance and intention, seeking to capture the dynamic relationship between chaos and harmony as sources of both divine and human creation.

A musician with an extensive career as a guitarist and composer, Grawoig has gradually gravitated toward the quiet world of painting. He currently resides in Querétaro, Mexico, where he has found the ideal peaceful setting to develop a body of work that aims to transcend the material through color and timeless markings.

You chose a self-taught path instead of a formal academic one. What influenced that decision?
Ever since I was a child, I’ve enjoyed learning through experience and experimentation. When I realized that music and art resonated with me from an early age, it was automatic—I simply started creating and haven’t stopped since.

As I got older and began to take it more seriously, I felt the need to learn more and connect with peers and mentors. As it often happens, that process began to unfold naturally, without feeling forced. I found myself surrounded by like-minded individuals and incredible mentors who taught me so much.

Your work explores the balance between chance and intention. What role does improvisation play in your creative process?

Improvisation has been the foundation of my artistic practice since I began working seriously in music back in 2008. In both painting and musical composition, I feel that improvisation allows divine energy to flow. It keeps me living in the eternal now, revitalizes me when I’m tired, and feels like a form of meditation or prayer that allows me to search for and bring beauty into the world. It reminds me that I’m not in control—that I’m simply a channel for God’s grace and love.

You often strive to unify sensory and conceptual elements. What are you hoping to communicate?

If it were up to me, the work would stand on its own with little need for conceptual explanation. But the world demands an explanation for everything. The awareness of our connection to the divine is the only message I wish to convey.

How was the transition from experimental music to painting?

It was a long and extremely painful learning process. In short, I came to realize that the connection with the beauty of a visual artwork is almost immediate, and that experience can grow deeper over time. Music, on the other hand, is a time-based experience and is often confined to specific genres.

I believe that most people today don’t have the time or patience to experience music in the spirit in which it was created. I wouldn’t claim that as a universal truth, but that’s been my experience. I’m eternally grateful for the opportunity to contribute to the tradition of painting and to stand on the shoulders of thousands of years of human effort to express the inexpressible.

Your work integrates elements of chance and control. What draws you to that tension?

I wasn’t raised with a strict spiritual discipline or religion, so my life has been deeply rooted in curiosity about spirituality, the meaning of life, and the search for truth. At this point, I believe that beauty in art comes from God. God works through the artist—moving their hand and assisting in the creation of beauty in the world.

Through improvisations based on chance—with paint, pigment, mediums, brushes, water, gravity, time, and canvas—a kind of divine order always seems to emerge, as if it were meant to be. I let that emerging order guide my drawings, invigorating the geometry and harmony of the composition. The spiritual implications of this process drive me to keep exploring it endlessly.

Photos: Courtesy of Alexander Grawoig