Five minutes with stencil artist, Luke Cornish

Posted on 9 July, 2025

Internationally known Canberra-born stencil artist Luke Cornish (aka ELK) returns to the National Library to launch his new book, ELK – The Stencil Art of Luke Cornish.

In this Q&A with journalist Ginger Gorman he reflects on street art, protest, and why the urban landscape still inspires him.

You’re about to launch your new book, ELK – The Stencil Art of Luke Cornish, at the National Library of Australia. Why was it important to you to bring this book back to Canberra for the launch?

I’ve been away from Canberra for about fifteen years now, but it will always be my home – my family is here, and my memories are here. Coincidentally, one of the first jobs I had outside of school was in the bowels of the National Library, retrieving books for the borrowing public upstairs. So, it means a lot to me to be invited back, a quarter of a century later, to grace the upper levels of this institution with a celebration of my success in the arts. But in all seriousness, it is important to me to return to Canberra and launch this book, because this is where my career began, from day one.

You first discovered street art exploring the alleyways of Civic. Take us back to that period of your life – how did that shift the way you viewed the urban landscape, and how has that early influence shaped the work we now see in your book?

I remember it vividly – roaming the alleys of Civic with my brand-new digital camera in hand, back when that was something to be excited about. I took countless photos of the street art, which quickly became my screensavers and wallpapers on the home PC. Like many others, I was deeply inspired by this early, pre-internet introduction to stencils, paste-ups, and graffiti. It opened up a whole new world of possibilities for self-expression and escapism. That influence set me on my own path of creative exploration and artistic discovery.

The book dives deep into your stencil process and the political edge of your work. Why do you think stencil art is such a powerful medium for social and political commentary?

Stencil art is a powerful medium for social and political commentary because of its accessibility, speed, and bold visual impact. You need to be pretty stealthy when painting the town red with anti-government slogans, and stencils have long been the chosen medium for this. The simplicity and repetition of stencils help embed powerful symbols and messages into public consciousness. Its roots in protest and subversion give stencil art an inherently rebellious tone, often challenging authority and societal norms. By combining art with activism, stencil artists can bypass traditional media and speak directly to the public – sparking thought, conversation, and sometimes even action– in a visually striking way.

You made history as the first stencil artist ever to be a finalist in the Archibald Prize, and you’ve been a finalist multiple times since. How does the book reflect on your relationship with the ‘established’ art world? And what did those milestones mean to you?

The book reflects on my relationship with the established art world as both unexpected and transformative. Coming from a street art background, being recognised by such a prestigious institution as the Archibald felt quite surreal the first time. It challenged traditional boundaries and validated stencil art as a serious artistic medium. That milestone meant a lot – it signified acceptance, but also a shift in how street-based practices are perceived. In saying that though, I am kinda like an outside cat, meowing at the back door of institutional acceptance, only to be let in every several years, before circling the doorway and demanding to be let out again. I’m not interested in playing their game – outside is where the magic happens.

Last year you won the Gallipoli Art Prize with The Pity of War, which powerfully addresses the human cost of conflict. Can you talk us through the story behind that work and why it felt significant to include it in this collection?

The Pity of Waris loosely based on Michelangelo’s La Pietà (The Pity). It’s a deeply personal and emotional piece. It was inspired by the devastating impact of war—not just on soldiers, but on families, communities, and generations. My great-grandfather was an ANZAC at Gallipoli; he died when my grandmother was two years old. So, the work really speaks to the people left behind when a soldier dies, and the intergenerational trauma perpetuated by war. Winning the Gallipoli Art Prize with a stencil work felt significant – it showed that powerful messages can come from unconventional mediums. I’m very proud to be included in this collection with so many other great artists. I never got to meet my great-grandfather, but I’m very grateful for this opportunity to pay my respects to him.

Your journey as an artist started here in Canberra. How do you see the city and its creative scene now, compared to when you were first stencilling in Civic’s alleyways?

When I first started stencilling in Canberra, there really wasn’t much going on – but I’ve got to give credit to artists like Byrd and Atune, who were holding it down from the early days. Fast forward to now, and Civic – especially around Braddon – has totally transformed into a cultural hub. Projects like the Surface Festival have brought big murals and street art into the spotlight, and the push to revitalise the Civic and Cultural District has created a proper space for the arts. It’s been great to see street art finally embraced as a legitimate part of Canberra’s creative scene.

Images supplied.