By Jessica Ye (Jessica Yap)
What if the cartoon characters we grew up loving were never as innocent as we thought? For Los Angeles-based artist Matt Gondek, Mickey Mouse, Homer Simpson and other pop culture icons become explosive, fractured and impossible to ignore—brightly coloured symbols of destruction, addiction, greed and power.

Born in Pittsburgh and now based in Los Angeles, Gondek has spent more than two decades building a visual language around deconstructed pop art. His paintings, sculptures, collectibles and murals take familiar characters apart and put them back together in vivid acrylic colours and bold graphic lines. The result is instantly recognisable, but rarely comfortable.
Gondek first caught our attention with his deconstructed versions of pop culture favourites, turning characters we have known since childhood into something altogether more unsettling. His work has since moved beyond paintings into sculptures, collectibles and large-scale murals, while still holding on to the same fascination with the characters and imagery that shaped his childhood.
There is something rather amusing about seeing these cheerful, instantly recognisable figures in such a state of disarray. But beneath the colours and cartoon references are darker subjects, from addiction and violence to greed and destruction.
That contrast is probably why the work is so enjoyable to look at.
More than two decades into his career, Gondek is still pulling these familiar characters apart and finding new ways to put them back together. Most recently, he has collaborated with Ron English on Lil’ Shit Popaganda, which we saw at Pop Toy Show 2026 in Singapore, and spent two months in Japan for an artist residency. He is also about to venture into an entirely new territory with the release of his first full-length video game.
Here, we speak to Matt Gondek about the artist he was when he created Deconstructed Homer, why he enjoys watching powerful characters fall apart, taking his work into the streets and what his eight-year-old self would make of everything happening now.

CT: You created Deconstructed Homer in 2015, which has since become one of your most recognisable works. What do you remember about the artist you were then?
MATT: I was still figuring everything out.
I had spent years working as a freelance illustrator, mostly sitting behind a computer making graphics for the music industry. By the time I started painting, I was pretty unhappy with where I was creatively and honestly didn’t know what I was going to do next.
Painting was new to me. I was self-taught and there wasn’t some master plan behind it. I was basically figuring it out as I went.
I grew up on cartoons, comics and video games, and I especially loved The Simpsons. Taking something that familiar and destroying it visually felt exciting to me.
Looking back, I think the artist I was then had a lot less certainty, but maybe that uncertainty was useful. I wasn’t protecting a career or worrying about what people expected from me because there really wasn’t anything to protect yet. I was just trying to find something that felt like mine.
CT: You once described becoming a successful artist as what you wanted more than anything after moving to LA. Six years into sobriety, has your definition of success changed?
MATT: Earlier in my career, success was pretty easy to define. I wanted the career. I wanted money. I wanted bigger shows, better opportunities, recognition—all of it.
Then I got some of those things and realized success doesn’t automatically fix you.
My career took off quickly after moving to California, and I didn’t handle everything that came with that particularly well. Eventually getting sober forced me to become much more disciplined about my life and about the way I work.
I still want to be successful. I’m not going to pretend ambition suddenly disappeared. But longevity means a lot more to me now.

I want to keep making work I’m excited about. I want to keep evolving instead of repeating something simply because I know people will buy it. And I want to be able to enjoy the life that the work has given me.
If I can keep doing this for the rest of my life without losing myself or falling out of love with making art, that’s a pretty good definition of success to me.
CT: Your work takes familiar pop culture imagery and turns it into something darker. What is it about these characters that makes you want to deconstruct them?
MATT: Historically, artists painted what surrounded them. You go through museums and see royalty, religion and mythology because those were major forces in people’s everyday lives.
I was born in 1982. I grew up with Nickelodeon, Nintendo, comic books, MTV and cartoons. Those were the images being pounded into my head every day.
Today characters like Mickey Mouse or Bart Simpson are almost modern gods. People all over the world recognize them instantly and have emotional relationships with them.
I grew up in punk rock, where questioning authority and tearing down walls and locked doors is part of the mentality. So taking these characters we’ve collectively elevated and deconstructing them makes sense to me.
There’s also something very simple about watching something powerful fall apart. People like destruction. We like watching the mighty fall. The recognizable character gives me the mighty part. I provide the fall.

CT: Your characters have become such a recognisable part of your work. Do you see them as having personalities of their own, or are they connected to something you want to say?
MATT: They’re usually connected to something I’m trying to say.
As the work evolved, I became much more interested in using characters as symbols instead of simply making an interesting image.
A character can represent greed, destruction, addiction, aggression or something I’m personally dealing with. I’ve created things like the spiked baseball bat because I wanted a symbol that connected punk rock and destruction. Other characters and objects have developed in similar ways.

The bright colors and cartoon language make everything approachable, but underneath that I can deal with much darker subjects—pessimism, addiction, violence, anarchy, greed.
That’s the interesting part to me. You can look at the work quickly and see something colorful and familiar, but hopefully there’s another layer underneath it.
CT: You recently introduced Lil’ Shit Popaganda in collaboration with Ron English. What made this the right character to bring your two worlds together?
MATT: Honestly, it’s selfish reasons. Ron has a rich history over adding his “Grin” to popular characters. I’ve been a fan of Ron’s work forever, and just wanted to see his take on my character.

CT: Your characters have moved from paintings into sculptures, collectibles and murals. Has seeing them exist as physical objects changed how you think about them?
MATT: Definitely from a technical standpoint.
When I first started making designer toys and sculptures, I didn’t understand how different it was to take something that worked as a drawing and turn it into an actual physical object.
There was a lot of trial and error. I worked with companies where I didn’t understand the manufacturing process well enough, and sometimes the quality suffered because of it.
Eventually I started becoming much more involved in production. When I made my bronze sculpture, for example, I worked closely with the company here in Los Angeles and personally oversaw the process. At the time, I felt it was the best sculpture I’d made.

That experience changed the way I approached three-dimensional work. A sculpture isn’t just a painting that you can walk around. Materials, scale, weight, manufacturing and how something exists in a room all become part of the artwork.
I like that challenge. I don’t want the ideas to be trapped on canvas.
CT: You have also created some very large-scale murals. What is it like to see a character that started in your studio suddenly become part of a city and someone’s everyday surroundings?
MATT: That’s one of the things I’ve always liked about murals.
Painting in the studio is controlled. All my materials are there, I know the environment and I can control the process pretty closely.
Murals are almost the opposite. You’re outside, you’re traveling, you’re dealing with the building, weather, whatever materials are available and everything else happening around you.
But the tradeoff is that the work becomes part of a place.

A painting might be seen by people who intentionally go into a gallery. A mural gets seen by everyone walking down the street. They don’t need to know anything about me or about art.
I like that more people get to experience the work that way.
CT: Unlike a painting in a gallery, a mural can be seen by people who have no idea who the artist is. Do you think about the person who might randomly come across your work when you are creating one?
MATT: Yes. That’s part of what I like about public work.
I’ve never really considered myself a graffiti artist. I’m a fine artist who sometimes paints outside. But one thing public art does incredibly well is remove some of the barriers around experiencing art.
I’ve experienced that firsthand. I painted a large mural in Florida based on Picasso’s Guernica that some people considered too violent and tried to have removed. What came out of that was meeting people from the community—art fans, business owners and other people who cared about the mural—who fought to keep it there.

That reminded me that once you put something in public, it isn’t completely yours anymore. It becomes part of that community’s visual environment.
Somebody can hate it. Somebody can love it. Somebody can walk past it every day without knowing my name.
I think that’s pretty interesting.
CT: You were in Japan for an artist residency in May this year. Was there anything about the experience that stayed with you after you returned?
MATT: Yes – both positives and negatives.
Japan is fearless with their public art. I’ve never seen so many strong outdoor sculptures in one country before. Giant, weird, shiny.. you name it. I loved seeing each and every one of them.

However, as an English speaking American, I found Japan to be really lonely and isolating. I was there for two months creating work. I spent most of it alone, due to the language barrier. It was definitely a learning experience for me – as I’m so used to always having people around me!
CT: You’ve spent more than two decades building this world of characters. What is something you still want to explore that you haven’t been able to put into your work yet?
MATT: It’s been over two decades already!
I’m about to release my first full length video game on September 15th. That’s something that 8 year old me would be so excited about. To be honest, 43 year old me is pretty excited too.

Featured image: Pikachu: Rip & Tear, 2024 & LIL’ SHIT POPAGANDA, Resin, 2026 | Images: Courtesy of Matt Gondek