Dark Botanical Surrealist Vibe: Sophisticated but Raw Art of Gabrielle Marin

Transmission 392: Interview with Gabrielle Marin

Gabrielle Marin is a contemporary visual illustrator and artist whose work inhabits the uneasy space between beauty and disturbance. Through intricate linework, organic textures, and recurring motifs drawn from the body and the natural world, and decay, she constructs images that feel at once intimate and alien. Her pieces often explore transformation, vulnerability, and the fragile boundary between the physical and the mental, inviting viewers into a visceral, almost tactile experience. Gabrielle Marin navigates the delicate intersection of psychological vulnerability and dark surrealism. Her aesthetic is defined by a “beautifully hallucinatory” duality.

Her illustrations often feature the human form in states of transformation, overgrown by fungi, entwined in flora, or hosting parasitic elements, functioning as visceral instinctive metaphors for emotional health, body dysmorphia, and internal evolution. Her art resonates deeply with those drawn to the emotional honesty and quiet intensity that underpin her visual language. She continues to push her practice into darker, more introspective territories, developing a body of work that challenges, confronts, and lingers. Gabrielle Marin creates “elegant absurd” that challenge the perceptions of beauty, pain, and the natural world, as a way to physicalize feelings like anxiety and change. Her presence on Instagram has become an extension of her practice, where a growing audience engages with both her finished works and glimpses of her creative process.

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Featured image: Haunting Hands © Gabrielle Marin

She created a visual language where the bizarre and the elegant coexist in a haunting, silent harmony.

Were you always attracted to mysterious, transformation, dark surrealistic etc., since your childhood? Where did your interest in these themes originate?

Yes, I think it’s always been a big part of my life. As a little child, I would incessantly ask my mother to rent Nightmare Before Christmas and Mars Attacks! and had a general fascination for the uncanny nature of stop-motion and other uncomfortable aesthetics. Later, I discovered the video game Silent Hill, and that had a huge impact on my artistic senses, namely for its surreal environments and deep psychological storyline. 

Are there non-visual influences (music, literature, personal experiences) that strongly shape your pieces? Is there an unexpected influence that shaped your work?

Music is fundamental for me. I listen to all genres, from death metal to city pop, and it always has an influence on my creative mood. I also love to explore abandoned buildings and observe nature taking over something once human, for instance. Medical pathologies are also a big source of inspiration.

How has your artistic style and  vision evolved over the years? What has changed, and what remains unaltered?

I grew up mostly reading comics, which probably informs the graphic nature of my work. Over time, it developed into more of an emotional world, representing elements of the human psyche in a visual form. I’ve studied in Fine Arts pretty late in my 20s, and that forced me to see my work through more of a philosophical way, as I had never learned to describe what I do before. As such, I guess I started to seek to build more layers in my visual representations, play with series, explore different mediums and be less tentative.

Your work often sits between beauty and discomfort. You’ve explored themes like body distortion, what draws you to these motifs?

I guess I am naturally inclined to find the beautiful in the ugly, or the ugly in the beautiful. There’s a tension in the in-between and the uncanny that I find deeply stimulating. I love stories and artworks that make you double-take and invite you to scratch the surface to uncover more meaning. My art usually revolves around human nature and its complexities, exploring visual libraries for struggles which are invisible otherwise. Therefore, my work represents that tension and discomfort, and it’s up to the viewer to interpret it as they see fit.

Gabrielle Marin blends dark surrealism, with East-Asian body horror, to visualise internal and emotional struggles.

Your art often touches on discomfort, pain, or transformation—does creating it feel cathartic, confronting, or something else? Do you see your art as more instinctive or intentional—or a tension between both? What do your pieces of art express that you find words cannot?

Cathartic for sure! Maybe it’s because it’s harder for me to put words on emotions specifically than it is to draw them… It’s definitely instinctive, there isn’t much I do that I plan before I put pen to paper. I wish I would be able to do that more, actually. Most of the time, it’s a feeling that I need to throw up something on paper, and it comes out without a second thought. I have diagnoses of general anxiety disorder and chronic depression and I am quite open about mental health awareness, and it’s the most efficient way I found to express that inner turmoil. 

Your pieces of art touch also the spiritual side of beauty.  How do you balance the internal emotions and the external visuals? What role does vulnerability play in your work?

That balance is strange. Art is where I am most vulnerable, and even though I’d like to make my work more cryptic, I can’t really control it. In fact, sometimes I’m shy to share some pieces that are less metaphorical because of how crude they are, but when I receive messages about how people relate to them, it reframes my thinking and makes this more about the shared experience of being human rather than my own personal struggles. I think vulnerability is especially important in the context of social media where everything is curated, even though it’s uncomfortable sometimes.

What scares you more: repeating yourself or completely changing your style? Do you ever try to “unlearn” technique to get back to something raw?

Repeating yourself as an artist is the worst feeling. I wouldn’t mind changing my style at all, but it is not that simple to unlearn your usual tricks! I do see myself repeating patterns more than I’d like to, but I think the solution for that is to keep being curious and explore different mediums, techniques, or do studies of other artists. I’m not very disciplined, but I’d like to dedicate more time to that.

She uses body horror and nature as metaphors for mental health: each piece is a living organism caught mid-mutation.

Your work often features ‘natural’ elements like plants and mushrooms, but they frequently appear as invasive or overwhelming to the human form. Seeking peace in nature, do you view the natural world as a sanctuary, or do you see it as a mirror for the ‘beautiful chaos’ and ‘overgrowth’ of the human psyche?

It’s both at the same time! I find the regularity of chaos very soothing, in a way. Nature has a way to balance itself out even through the most impressive of obstacles, and I think her resilience is awe inspiring. There is a lesson to be learned about knowing that whatever happens, life will inevitably return to a state of normalcy through that structured chaos.

Is any of your artwork connected to a moment that marked a significant turning point in your life? If so, could you share the story behind it?

There are so many moments, it’s hard to pinpoint one in particular. I do have a period in mind around 2016-2018 where I had just finished my Major in East Asian studies and decided I needed art to be more present in my life, so I got grants to study Fine Arts full time. That period was so fruitful and special to me, and it’s where I decided to be more intentional with my work. The foundations of that period can be seen in artworks like “Overgrowth”, “Vines” and “Mycelia”, just to name a few examples.

Her pieces of art find the grace in the uncomfortable and make the invisible struggles of the mind feel tangible.

You’ve expressed a desire to expand into ceramics, a medium you explored in Japan. What is your relationship with the material? How does the transition from drawing to the tactile nature of clay change how you think about ‘body’ horror?

Ceramic is amazing! I love its tactile elements and the way to create art that is used in everyday life. I have tried both the potter’s wheel and hand building, and I’ve fallen in love with the imperfections of hand building a lot more. When I studied it shortly, I really appreciated how intuitive it was, not unlike drawing – but you do have to think in a more pragmatic, 3D way, which is super fun! Body horror fits so well with ceramic because of its organic nature, I think they really pair well together. Making larger, more sculptural work would be something I’d love to try one day! 

Photo and images courtesy of © Gabrielle Marin

Dominique Musorrafiti

Ciao! My name is Dominique. I’m Italian and I’m proud to be a mix. My father was an Italian chemical engineer and high school teacher, with Greek and Polish heritage. My mother is Haitian, she was high school language teacher, with Dominican, Spanish, French, Portuguese, African and Native American heritage. Being a mix makes me appreciate to want to understand different cultures and lifestyles. I grew up in Italy, lived few years in Haiti, travel around main European capitals, lived many years in China, in Spain and UK. Traveling makes me feel that we can learn something from every situation in every part of the world.