Avery Wheless

Avery Wheless creates energetic and tender paintings, performance pieces, and video installations that celebrate the agency, presence, and creativity of the contemporary female body. Her protagonists frolic, float, pose, and dance in intimate, joy-filled spaces—dinner parties, restaurants, travels, and quiet moments at home—each scene offering a sanctuary free from the male gaze. With a glowing palette and confident, gestural brushwork, Wheless draws from a lifelong relationship with movement and light, shaped by her father’s work as an animation director, her mother’s influence as a ballet teacher, and her own experiences in dance, filmmaking, and plein-air painting.

Born in 1993 in Charlotte, NC, Wheless received a BFA in painting from Rhode Island School of Design. She has exhibited her work internationally at venues including Superzoom (Paris and Miami), Garten Gallery (Italy), and various venues across Southern California. In 2023, she completed the Katikía Artist Residency in Greece, further deepening her dynamic, multidisciplinary practice. Here she speaks with her gallerist Pauli Ochi of OCHI (Sun Valley, ID and Los Angeles, CA) to discuss the female form, performance, and the importance of ritual.

PAULI OCHI: When I talk about your work, I often point out the way you move paint around on the surface. It looks like you are having a lot of fun—is this accurate?

AVERY WHELESS: The movement and gesture within my marks are intuitive and cathartic. The canvas is a space where I have complete control, but also where I let go, release, play and process. When the marks land just right, painting feels like freedom—there is nothing more fun than that.

PO: Your work celebrates the female body in all its agency and joy—what’s the most unexpectedly powerful moment you’ve had while painting a female figure?

AW: I’ve been processing a lot of bodily trauma, and there was a time when I wasn’t painting the figure at all, but rather spaces where the figure was removed. I wasn’t conscious of it at the time, but after a year of working through this I returned to the female form. That moment of recognition was powerful as I had regained some clarity around my own body and it manifested in the work. I remember standing in my studio, looking at a series of six-foot figurative paintings and thinking, “wow, I’m here,” and realizing I was no longer afraid to be in my own body.

PO: You recently noted that dance keeps finding you in your practice. You have a background in ballet and much of your work incorporates motion as performance, video, or within paintings—what about movement and dance is most compelling to you in your work?

AW: The engrained physicality and how energy translates to canvas while making a work always connects me back to dance. Paintings are inherently still, but I think of the canvas as a stage, capturing in-between moments of unconscious performance. Lately, I’ve been pulling stills from videos to develop painting ideas, which helps me explore this connection even further.

PO: Your scenes of both parties and quiet moments are so intimate. I know you often pull from specific experiences and observations about people in your life—how do you choose which moments will become paintings?

AW: I’m constantly documenting—snapping pictures of things that strike me, whether it’s the way candlelight reflects off a glass or how a hand reaches for something. I look through these images and set some aside, but most of the time, I rely on instinct. When I feel the urge to paint, I’ll revisit images until something clicks. There’s usually an emotional undercurrent I don’t fully recognize until the painting is finished. It’s all very intuitive and impulsive.

PO: One of your recent paintings, Just Checking (2024), depicts two women you told me you didn’t know. You said you wanted to convey a “feeling of closeness” but also “the unease I feel within my own body and in relation to others.” The figures were “painted to appear transparent, a reflection of how raw and exposed I often feel, with the intention of finding beauty in that.” What kind of headspace so you need to be in to paint a specific memory versus a general feeling?

AW: Many of my memories feel hazy, and I’ve been working through some of them in therapy. Recently, my therapist had me recall a scene as if I were a director, picking and choosing how to reframe it, re-remember, and release. I realized it’s very similar to how I paint—I’m drawn to a specific pose, a color palette, or a mood, without understanding its connection to a personal memory. Only after I finish a painting can I recognize these tethers. I’m not trying to depict exact memories, but rather to process a feeling and find beauty in letting go of things I can’t fully grasp.

PO: Your father is an animation director and your mother is a dancer—what lessons did they teach you about art or movement that still influence you today?

AW: They always encouraged me to create, to be independent, and to immerse myself in my imagination. I was a deep thinker, maybe a bit moody, and they understood that having a creative and physical outlet was important. My mom and I have performed together, and dance is a way of seeing the world. My dad introduced me to “people watching” aka figure drawing and the concept of the “line of action” early on. I am one of four kids, and we were all athletic and drawn to sports and movement. Movement has always been second nature to me. I’m so grateful they instilled this mind-body connection for us.

PO: What studio rituals are most important for you to get into the flow?

AW: I’m not fussy about getting started. I usually work first thing, so my morning routine is a hot black coffee, some form of movement, a hike or Pilates, and lately I’ve been into breath work. I’ll do a short 15-minute practice to clear my head. Once I start painting I need to be listening to something—music, an audiobook, a podcast. If I forget my AirPods, it’s a long day.

Interviewed by Pauli Ochi.