The recent paintings of multidisciplinary artist Abdul Abdullah conjure memories of storybook quests and fables: intricately rendered natural landscapes are traversed by galloping horses or bisected by majestic rock formations. But there’s a visual twist to these fantastical scenes, as though another hand has entered the picture and made cartoon-like additions in thick white paint. These clashing visual languages are a signature of Abdullah’s work, which is preoccupied with notions of the other and with the boundaries between myth and reality, artist and audience, journey and destination. In this conversation with Griffith Review Editor Carody Culver, Adbullah describes the evolution of his creative practice and his belief in the value of being an outsider.

CARODY CULVER: You were a teenager in Perth in September 2001, so you came of age in a post-9/11 world characterised by deep anti-Muslim sentiment and sweeping changes to global security. How did this context shape your mindset as a young Muslim growing up in Australia, and how has it fed into your artistic practice?