Jason Fox’s paintings unfold as a delirious theatre of fractured identities and cultural  iconography. Figures—public, private, and imagined—such as Bob Marley, Joni Mitchell,  George Harrison, the artist’s beloved dogs, and even a dragon—are cast and recast across his  canvases. Icons, especially musicians of the 1960s and ’70s counterculture, are resurrected  not as memorabilia but as avatars of the present.

Influenced by horror films and science fiction cinema—beginning with David Cronenberg—as  well as the visual language of comics and Cineflex magazine, Fox fuses pop cultural  aesthetics with painterly traditions drawn from Pablo Picasso, Philip Guston, Willem de  Kooning, and Martin Kippenberger. Years of rehearsal in color, form, and repetition culminate  in layered compositions where the human figure, often holding a microphone, cigar, or guitar,  becomes a site of reinvention and intervention: an armature for rebellion, erotic distortion,  and cultural satire.

His process begins with a profusion of drawings, a kind of casting call in which figures  “audition” to inhabit the same fragmented body. Humor and irony run through his work, animating the strange overlap between the political and the sensual, the grotesque and the  comic. These qualities create a mask or veil for the ghostly figures, simultaneously obscuring  and revealing Fox’s rejection of purity and homogeneity, a refusal that feels both deeply  political and personal. In doing so, he continues to probe the troubled psychological  undercurrents of Americana and interrogate the twisted machinery of idol worship, treating  its icons not as objects of aspiration but as false prophets in a collapsing world order.

For the exhibition Antiheroes, all the works are presented through the generosity of collectors  and institutions who have entrusted us with their care.