
Known for her meticulously constructed interiors and the women who inhabit them, Dianne Gall has shifted her lens from the domestic rooms of her earlier works, to the charged, cinematic interiors of vehicles. In “DRIVE”, the central motif remains: women in states of solitude, contemplation, or escape. Only now, they are set against the gleam of chrome, the sweep of headlights, and the open-ended narrative of the road.
The car—long upheld as a masculine symbol of the 1960s and 70s, a muscle-bound emblem of power and bravado—becomes something else in Gall’s hands. Polished to a gleaming, almost camp perfection, these immaculate vehicles are now steered by women, subverting their mythology and recasting them as a character: a repository of memory, a symbol of autonomy and independence, a vehicle of pursuit and desire.




