Into the Mystic

While his practice spans many forms, you'll know when you're looking at a piece by Gabriel de Souza. Drawing from ukiyo-e, surrealism, mythology, animal folklore and nature, his vivid works effuse a playful wonder that's otherworldly, yet familiar.

Also half of art studio Nimble Mystic, Gabriel moves between artistic identities as freely as he moves between modes. "The name is like a mask," he says. "It gives me the freedom to create in any medium. Wolfsloth lets me stay loose and allows the work to speak for itself."

How did Wolfsloth come to be?

I came up with the name in college, when my ex and I were thinking of taking part in an exhibition as a single entity. It represents the contrast and duality between an animal that is fierce and one that is chill, much like my work and work ethic. I really liked how it sounded and kept it for myself.

Your artwork spans tattoos, illustrations, textiles and installations. Was there a first love?

I've drawn since I was young. I did it to occupy time, and to escape it. I majored in graphic novel illustration, which was my strong suit in school. After that, I got into tattooing, which pushed me to paint and draw even more. The discipline of tattooing is responsible for most of my artistic development.

I also come from a semi-musical family and started playing young, before a 16-year stint as a guitarist in a post-hardcore band, Caracal. Touring exposed me to a wider world of creatives doing their own thing, and showed me that if you invest enough time and energy into your art form, it can take you to new places and open you up to different cultures and ways of working. That really shaped my creative approach.

Did you start tattoos young, too?

When I was nine, I watched loads of wrestling and noticed how tattoos made people look cool. I'd draw on my arms to imagine that look. I got a bunch of tattoos when I was younger, but I didn't start getting seriously tattooed until I was 18, when I met my mentor. He barely edited my designs, which made me realise I could get into the tattoo world. After graduating, he took me on as an apprentice.

If someone came to you with a blank bicep and asked for a Wolfsloth original, what would you tattoo?

Something that pushes the boundaries of composition – an animal head with a mouth portal and a lotus framing the bottom to represent rebirth. Something strange and weird like that.

How do you approach working across different forms?

Each medium has its own rules, and I see those as challenges to still communicate the same message. All of them have shaped my style and design intention. I don't have a preference; I hope to always be pushing multiple at all times.

Then there's Nimble Mystic, your art studio with Chris Chai. How did you come together?

We met through our bands as teenagers, but got closer in our twenties when we collaborated on my band's album art. That was the spark that burnt the forest down. We'd hang out at Chris's old studio, talking over beers about one day sharing a space and creating immersive art projects together.

After Covid, I was offered a solo exhibition and needed a studio. I found a space just as Chris was looking to move out of his. Before we knew it, we had one together.

Collaborating with Chris is always fun and easy. We complement each other; his strengths are my weaknesses, and vice versa, which allows our projects to feel cohesive and natural.

You both featured at Singapore Design Week 2024. Tell us about your project, Strange Terrains…

It was our first installation and public art collaboration as a duo. We were given a very loose theme of "birthday," so we thought of a kids' inflatable birthday party, but with a Nimble Mystic flavour. It was really rewarding to go from a small 2D contour sketch to coming face-to-face with a five-metre-tall structure. Functionally, it was intended for kids to lose their minds, but also felt aesthetically considered and true to our identities.

Your rugs, cushions and apparel are so vibrant and full of movement. What draws you to textiles?

I've always romanticised antique Tibetan rugs and been fascinated by French Chinoiserie kitsch sculptures and fabrics. These pieces are my own interpretation – a modern, remixed Wolfsloth version that I would want to collect myself.

For garments, I use my tattoo background to guide placement and composition, thinking about how a design can flatter or accentuate the body. It usually begins with a reference or idea from something old or ancient.

Ancient mythology, animal folklore and nature recur throughout your work. Is there a symbol or story you return to?

Not one specifically. I see my designs as reinterpretations – my own mythology. The Tibetan six-armed sloth rug, for example, is my tribute to the traditional Tibetan tiger rug. The sloth, my namesake, while the additional arms pay homage to Tibetan and Hindu deities, and their divine power to handle multiple cosmic functions at once. The Buddha's eye at the centre represents the awakening of consciousness, a reminder to practise mindfulness.

What is it about these historic, otherworldly realms that captivates you?

The ancient world was more intuitive and aligned with nature. What's seen as mystical now just made sense then. I feel all living beings are connected through the same code, but technological advancement has pulled us away from our ancestral ways and our connection to other living things.

I'm also fascinated by the Latin term horror vacui. Aesthetically, I'm drawn to maximalism and filling space. Philosophically, it reminds me that we're tenants on this planet, and nature is our landlord. If humans became extinct, nature would take back what is theirs.

Where do you go for inspiration?

Ancient towns. I've long been intrigued by Tibetan Buddhist artwork and mythology, and a recent trip to Tibet reignited a desire to explore that visual language further.

Inspiration also comes from everywhere – travel photos, our studio reference library, the toys Chris collects, Pinterest, other artists' work, and my collection of clothes.

Is there a song that gets you in the zone?

My playlist 'chillest', especially the song, Lotus by Sven Wunder.

When the urge to create hits, what do you reach for?

The airbrush is one of my go-to analogue tools. I love its softness and ease of saturation. But I've designed my space so most tools are within reach, allowing me to capture the spirit of the moment.

And when it's time to reset?

Travelling. Visiting places like Bali, Thailand and, most recently, China gives me a creative reset. It lets me step outside the Singaporean matrix and experience things that don't exist at home.

Finally, what's next?

I just finished a week-long, four-storey-tall mural collaboration with China-based graffiti artist Sheep Chen. I explored spray paints for the first time and what it's like painting from a boom lift that shakes in the wind with long, gestural movements.

Being the year of the Fire Horse, we went with horses. Sheep painted his version, I painted mine, and we joined them at the body. The background incorporates design elements found on old shophouses in Kampong Glam, a local heritage area in Singapore.

The mural coincides with Singapore Art Week as part of the Aliwal Urban Arts Festival. Aliwal Arts Centre is a semi-government-aided initiative providing spaces for artists, and it's also where our studio is located. This is our contribution to giving the community more public art.