Kristin Moore's paintings begin with observation but rarely end there. Working from an archive of photographs collected through travel, she builds compositions that sit between documentation and interpretation. Roadside architecture, signage, and commercial spaces become the foundation for something more atmospheric, where memory and place begin to blur.
Her work draws heavily from film, particularly the cinematography of John Alcott, Hoyte van Hoytema, and Wes Anderson. Framing, color, and light are treated as narrative tools, allowing each painting to unfold like a still from a larger story. What remains is not a fixed location, but a veiled version of it, shaped by editing, omission, and painterly decision-making.
We spoke with Moore about the origins of her subject matter, her process, and how her work continues to evolve between realism and memory.
Q: Your work often focuses on roadside architecture or familiar commercial spaces. What initially drew you to these types of locations?
My initial interest in signage and the "American Roadtrip" (as I like to call it) stemmed from my move from Texas to California in 2014. I had lived in Texas all my life and been used to driving extensively across the state for hours on end to get from point a to point b. The signage and architecture of that landscape became familiar and comforting. Upon my move to CA, I started to miss seeing certain signage along the horizons (Whataburger, DQ, etc…) I began to make work about how signage and the architecture of our surroundings can be tied to the human experience with nostalgia and memory.
Moore's early visual language is rooted in displacement. The shift from Texas to California reframed the everyday, turning familiar roadside markers into symbols of memory and absence. What once functioned as background began to take on emotional weight.
Q: Many of these places are tied to consumption through fast food restaurants or iconic brands. What interests you about isolating and focusing on them as subject matter?
There's something both beautifully kitschy and deeply nostalgic about fast food signage and iconic branding within the American landscape. For me, places like Taco Bell are remembered from my childhood as being tied to quick simple dinners that somehow became lasting memories. Over time, I've watched Taco Bell take on new life through pop culture, from it's resurgence via Vanderpump Rules to TikToks dissecting how a Crunchwrap is made, often aimed at a nostalgic millennial audience. That entire microcosm of cultural reinvention really fascinates me. In my work, I'm drawn to exploring how these familiar symbols carry personal and collective memory-how branding, in its own way, becomes a shared emotional language tied to experience, identity, and time.
Her interest extends beyond the objects themselves. These locations function as cultural markers, continuously reinterpreted through media, memory, and generational identity. What might appear ordinary becomes layered with both personal and collective meaning.
Q: Do you think of these locations as specific places, or as more universal symbols of the American landscape?
I would say both. We see many of these signifiers across the country, but each viewer will always have their own unique experience with them. I like for my work to create a space for my story to be told, but then the viewer and collector can take it on their own journey.
Q: You've mentioned film as a key influence. How does cinematography shape the way you frame and compose your paintings?
My interest in cinematography stems from many decades of loving movies, but specifically from my time living in Los Angeles. I learned a lot about film and how to appreciate the messages movies send to viewers through color, framing, lighting, etc… during my time there. I learned a lot about using atmosphere as a tool to convey feeling within painting. Through exploration of framing, lighting and color, I believe painting can be just as cinematic as film.
Moore approaches painting with a filmmaker's sensibility. Composition becomes a form of direction, where light and framing guide the viewer's attention and establish mood in the same way a camera would.
Q: You mentioned starting with photographs but move away from them during the painting process. At what point does the work shift from documentation to interpretation?
I always start my work with photos I've collected from my travels - I have an extensive photo archive. I was inspired to start keeping a photo archive after seeing an Ed Ruscha retrospective at the Harry Ransom Center back in 2018. My use of photography as a tool for painting started there, but the paintings always go off on their own journey. That turning point happens while I'm in the studio an begin to release a sense of control to the paint. The photo exists as a representation, but I like to see my paintings as interpretations.
Q: How do you decide what details stay and what gets edited out?
I like to lean in to my Edward Hopper influence when I consider what is edited out of my paintings. I like to leave a sense of narrative & mystery, but also allow space for the viewer to contemplate. I rarely paint cars and never paint people. I like to leave space for the viewer to place their own experience within the work. This goes back to where the takeoff point comes from photo to painting. The image becomes more painterly as soon as I start making those decisions as an artist to "add or to leave out"
The absence of figures is deliberate. By removing direct human presence, Moore shifts focus to atmosphere and implication, allowing narrative to emerge through what is left unsaid.
Q: Do you see these paintings as purely observational, or are they also commenting on aspects of American culture and consumerism?
I would say they are observational but a touch of commentary on American culture and the human experience. I see them as contemporary landscape paintings that oscillate between realism and memory. They represent very real locations in an almost liminal space void of signs of human activity, therefore tip toeing the line of actuality and imagination.
Her work resists a singular reading. While grounded in real places, the removal of activity and context creates a suspended, almost cinematic stillness, where observation and commentary quietly overlap.
Q: Your paintings often hinge on the relationship between land and sky, with a clear horizon dividing the two. How does that contrast shape the mood or reading of the work?
I love a big sky. This stems from being a Texan growing up in a very concentrated big city like Los Angeles. I wanted to making paintings about LA and frame it with a bigger, cinematic view. I therefore would trek up to Mulholland Dr., Griffith, and other overlooks to paint the city from an open and expansive distance. That permeated into my artistic view permanently. Leaving a large space for big skies in my work creates a cinematic and atmospheric viewing experience for my viewers and collectors.
Q: When someone lives with one of your paintings, what do you hope continues to reveal itself over time?
I hope the painting continues to feel visceral and unfold new memories for the collector. Maybe at first it's the place or signage itself that draws them in, something recognizable and nostalgic, but over time I hope quieter details to surface: the light, the atmosphere, the emotional undercurrent that isn't always immediately obvious. Ideally, the painting becomes less about a specific location and more about a feeling or memory that shifts depending on where they are in their own life. It continues to hold space and continue a story for the collector over time.
Learn more about Kristin Moore and her available works here
