David Molesky

Wilson, NC

David Molesky (b. 1977, Washington, DC) is an oil painter whose work explores organic abstraction inspired by turbulent elements and figurative works inspired by mythology. He is currently painting a series where bananas serve as a metaphor for the human figure. By merging two long-standing art historical tropes—the banana and the monomyth—he examines masculinity through the lens of comedy and tragedy.

Molesky’s paintings are shown throughout the United States and Europe and are part of permanent collections at institutions such as the Long Beach Museum of Art and the Iloilo Museum of Contemporary Art in the Philippines. His work has been featured in The New York Times, The Washington Post, New American Painting, and American Arts Quarterly. He participated in artist residencies awarded by the Morris Graves Foundation (California), Fundacja Nakielska (Poland), and the Akureyri Art Museum (Iceland).

In 2022, after nearly a decade in New York City, Molesky relocated to Wilson, North Carolina.

ARTIST'S NOTE

“Through conversations with friends, I realized the banana in my paintings functioned as a stand-in for men - particularly heroes and martyrs. I also noticed that, much like men, bananas appear robust yet are highly susceptible to bruising. ”

Amid today’s figurative art revival, where identity, vulnerability, and social critique take center stage, Molesky’s work stands out for its playful yet poignant take on masculinity, symbolized by his recurring motif: the banana. Blending comedy and tragedy, his paintings parody heroic tropes by casting the banana as the protagonist, familiar, absurd, and unexpectedly symbolic.

Positioned against the backdrop of societal expectations shaped by lingering toxic masculinity, these works question the cultural narratives that define strength, legacy, and meaning. Men in protective gear cradle these oversized bananas—monumental yet delicate forms that gesture toward the fragile construction of masculine identity. The result is a body of work that subverts the mythic scale of masculine greatness with quiet tenderness and irony.

By framing the banana as both icon and object of care, Molesky aligns his practice with a broader movement in contemporary figurative painting that reimagines gendered archetypes and embraces vulnerability as a form of resistance. Often depicted as oversized and imposing, the banana becomes a stand-in for inflated masculinity—seemingly robust, yet surprisingly fragile and prone to bruising.

What inspired the “Banana” paintings, the series you call Prone to Bruise?

“While deeply engaged in a 2014 painting series, I discovered a New York Times photo of an Ebola outbreak. The image triggered an unexpected eureka moment: “That body bag should be a huge banana.” The absurdity of the idea stuck with me for years. Eventually, I painted a smaller version, leading to further iterations and commissions. During the pandemic in Iceland, I created another piece, which caught the attention of a gallery owner. That opportunity allowed me to expand what had once seemed like a whimsical concept into a solo exhibition. ”

What is your process for developing a new series like this?

“The first composition’s dramatic, stage-like presence reminded me of Caravaggio. The arrangement of figures carrying a body echoed Renaissance deposition scenes, where Christ is taken from the cross for burial. These connections inspired me to blend historic artworks with contemporary imagery of disease outbreaks. I also staged my own references, using bananas as stand-ins and having friends pose in hazmat suits.

Critical discussions with trusted peers have been invaluable. These "idea tennis" sessions help refine my artist statements and the broader conceptual framework of my work. ”

How have critical discussions influenced your understanding of the series?

“As a visual artist, I intuitively develop ideas before fully articulating their conceptual depth. Through conversations with friends, I realized the banana in my paintings functioned as a stand-in for men—particularly heroes and martyrs. I also noticed that, much like men, bananas appear robust yet are highly susceptible to bruising. ”

Tell us about your process of making these works.

“My studio is often filled with bananas in various poses—some perched on my easel, others mounted on metal armatures. I go through bunches of bananas but eat them all, usually frozen in smoothies. Luckily, I haven’t run into a fruit fly problem yet!

When shopping, I spend an awkward amount of time selecting the perfect bunches, inspecting their shapes, and imagining which banana will play a role in a particular painting. Then, I wait for them to ripen just right—with a good speckling of spots—before I begin. ”