How David Adrien uses frames to shift the way we look at everyday things

David Adrien grew up in Paris and studied printmaking in Brussels before returning to France to finish his degree and settle there. Since graduating, he has worked primarily as an illustrator, contributing to collective comics fanzines along the way. But more recently, his practice has expanded back towards something that he's been missing since his school days: "More self-initiated projects involving volume and making things by hand," he says. "I really want to focus on that, also following a strong desire to use fewer digital devices."

Since then, David has been making small framed drawings – gorgeously hand-built objects in which a modest, loosely rendered image sits inside a frame constructed from cardboard, acrylic glue and bookcloth, using techniques borrowed from bookbinding. What makes them compelling is less the image alone than the relationship between the image and the beautiful sculpture that encases it. "I find that since my drawing style for this side of my work is quite simple and loose," he explains, "the frame surrounding it has to be very minimal and meticulously crafted for the piece to be as striking as possible. The tension between playfulness and control is a very important part of my practice."

When he's about to commence one of his frame projects, he starts with observation, watching how things are presented to the eye and closely seeing what happens when the context shifts. "My inspiration really comes from observing my everyday environment and trying to see how everything is framed in a very broad sense," he says. Small adjustments like moving an object, changing a background, placing one thing next to another that has no obvious reason to be there, and looking at it from a different perspective are where his ideas truly take off. "The magic of combination inspires me," he says, "and the unexpected dialogue that can exist between elements that only had a little to do with each other in the first place."

If you were to take a very quick glance at his recent computer works, perhaps with a squint, you might think you're just looking at any old laptop. But then you spot how each piece has a small landscape painting – a nod to the default desktop wallpapers that most of us have long stopped seeing – set within a frame that mimics the proportions of a screen. It's a handcrafted, witty and cleverly built optical illusion. "It connects old subjects and mediums to contemporary technologies and the new challenges they bring," David says, "like a bridge between past, present and future." 

In his Fragile series, the frames are made entirely from a squishy protective foam – the kind used to cushion things in transit – wrapped around small colour drawings. The result looks, as David puts it, like a toy version of a traditional artwork. "Seeing such a small piece of art surrounded by this much protection gives it a different status," he says. "It elevates a basic artistic gesture into something precious." The change in perception is something he strives for in his practice. "I'm very interested in tweaking the lenses with which we look at things."

Trickery aside, David wants the work to feel approachable. "I just want to make art that can start conversations while also feeling welcoming," he says. "Sometimes art and the discourse around it can seem a bit daunting from the outside."