Leo Costelloe’s ‘actually quite sinister’ study of romantic love

At once deeply reverent yet iconoclastic, the Australian-born, London-based artist previously captured imaginations with their bewitching jewellery designs, often featuring bows and ribbons cast prettily in silver but with a slightly spectral feel that makes one think unavoidably of haunted Victorian nurseries. Their exhibition soft when warm at Guts Gallery last year saw the artist echo these themes of gender performance, fantasy, and artifice, in a series of larger sculptural works. But, whatever the scale or medium – whether it be in glass, silver, flowers, synthetic hair or tier upon tier of cake – Costelloe is articulating the contours of their own unique universe.

Presiding over Special Day, Costelloe’s bride is a 1930s mannequin, lovingly restored with the help of toy doctor Joel Davidson, and dressed in a 1960s traditional white wedding dress. Totemic yet also, as the gallery’s statement points out, a cake-topper – she is both subject and object; the passive, unblinking centrifugal point of the show. Around her, other works by Costelloe – such as Romantic Tendrils (2024), created from synthetic hair, or “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue (and a silver sixpence)” (2024), created from sterling silver, satin ribbon, a lace garter, Akoya pearl, glass, mother of pearl, a silver sixpence, and satin and diamanté flowers – are displayed like offerings and artefacts 

Below, we talk with Leo Costelloe about their obsessions, the enduring allure of weddings and “romantasy”, and why their work is always “a little bit dark”.

Please could you introduce Special Day? In what ways is it a continuation of your practice and in what ways is it a departure?

Leo Costelloe: I don’t really look at these works as a continuation or departure. The practice moves organically and ideas are born and expanded on simultaneously. Materially, ‘Bridal Shop Mannequin 1 (Finsbury Park)’ feels more expansive than previous works as I rarely work at this scale, so in that sense perhaps it is a departure from working on more intimate forms. Fundamentally, I try to look at the work as one universe that I translate into different objects or images in order to explore or reflect on certain ideas. 

What is it about the Western bride that captured your imagination? And what do you think this archetype represents as a cultural signifier?

Leo Costelloe: It’s both a motif and character that is simultaneously public and personal, universal and local, and can both embody and unravel our own associations to the way in which femininity is both consumed, celebrated and vilified in Western culture. 

I’m interested in unpacking and reflecting on Western cultures of femininity as a means of celebration as well as integration. Looking particularly at how these cultures could behave outside a patriarchal/capitalist landscape. I’m interested in the power of gender expression as self-determination and how the self can be activated through adornment and decoration. ‘The bride’ is a paradoxical icon – complex as a personal and impersonal symbol – which, when stripped of a particular identity or personhood can take on new meanings and act as a reflection of both societal pressure and romantic fantasy. 

“When watching a TikTok of the world burning and a cute video of a sausage dog in quick succession starts to feel normal, you have to realise that the cute sausage dog is actually quite sinister. My work is a bit like the cute sausage dog” – Leo Costelloe

In a previous interview with Dazed you described your work as ‘a little bit dark’. Please could you elaborate on this? 

Leo Costelloe: I think we’re living in an era of post-post-modernity. When watching a TikTok of the world burning and a cute video of a sausage dog in quick succession starts to feel normal, you have to realise that the cute sausage dog is actually quite sinister. My work is a bit like the cute sausage dog. 

What would you say you are most obsessed by as an artist? What are the recurring themes and references in your work?

Leo Costelloe: At the moment, I love Tinsley Mortimer and Sarah J. Maas books, particularly the A Court of Thorns and Roses series. The literary genre of romantasy feels necessary at this current time in history. I haven’t referenced either of them in the work yet, but I definitely will at some point. 

I use a lot of ‘hyperfeminine’ motifs throughout the work, bows in particular. I’m drawn to certain materials that innately carry a lot of symbolism or associations, like silver, glass, hair, flowers and photographs. These function both as object and image, all of which occur and are referenced throughout the work. 

Please could you introduce us to the protagonist of the show – your 1930s bride doll who presides over the exhibition?

Leo Costelloe: ‘Bridal Shop Mannequin 1 (Finsbury Park)’ was loosely based on dolls by Gisèle Vienne and figurative sculpture by Lisa Lichtenfels. I wanted to achieve a type of ritual presence in the space or an uncanny liturgy. I was thinking about the type of silence that occurs at funerals and births. That sort of hushed anticipation of a wedding which is simultaneously tied up with emotion and artifice is interesting to me, and I wanted to see if it could be transposed to a gallery setting. The title also references a street of bridal shops in Finsbury Park which I love for their dishevelled mannequins with the hands on the wrong way. They burst the fantasy bubble in many ways. Ideally, though, I’d like people to make their own assumptions about this work and all the works for that matter. 

Could you tell us about some of the other pieces in the exhibition (which appear almost like ritualistic artefacts)?

Leo Costelloe: More often than not, when I’m making objects, I’m thinking about ways in which they transform with use or function, or imagining how functional objects might be imbued with more meaning through materiality or placement within space. A gallery setting is always a fun way to manipulate the validity or sacrality of objects, and I think a lot of the works in Special Day are doing that. One of the works included in the show is a full cutlery set which is unfit for dining, but instead becomes an image of itself and a vehicle for projection. Likewise, the hair sculptures which are based on formal women’s hairstyles, like a sort of physical Pinterest board.

How does Special Day comment on the construction of romantic fantasy?

Leo Costelloe: Special Day is as open and obtuse as it is specific. I think it is both a reflection, critique and celebration of societal ideologies surrounding romantic fantasy. For the most part, I was trying to elicit a personal response from viewers, or maybe even a sense of nostalgia for a time when talking about weddings felt safe and simple. I am also very bored of looking at art that is about sex and violence and I think London needs some reprieve.