Life & Work with Sküt (aka Scott Lewallen) of West Hollywood
Courtesy of VoyageLA
Today we’d like to introduce you to Sküt (aka Scott Lewallen).
Hi Sküt, we’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
I’m a tech entrepreneur and designer who took a very hard left turn into fine art, following my curiosity as it wandered off the screen and onto a wall. I grew up in Los Angeles and earned my bachelor’s degree from the Annenberg School for Communication at the University of Southern California (Fight On, Trojans!).
Before making murals and sculptures, I spent years consulting and building startups, including designing and co-founding Grindr. That background still runs the show. I don’t believe in separating “art” from “design.” Both are about asking questions, breaking things, rebuilding, and figuring out how ideas survive contact with the real world, whether that world is an app, a hotel installation, or a delivery robot cruising down Santa Monica Boulevard.
I like to push back on the idea that art has to be precious, polite, or intimidating to be taken seriously. I’m interested in materials, scale, process, and presentation. Every project is an experiment. If I’m not learning something new, or slightly terrified along the way, I’m doing it wrong.
Sküt Artist collaboration with Serve Robotics in the City of West Hollywood
Can you talk to us a bit about the challenges and lessons you’ve learned along the way. Looking back would you say it’s been easy or smooth in retrospect?
Pursuing art as a passion and profession is my favorite adventure. Most of the memorable friction has been internal, ironic yet unsurprising.
The perpetual struggle is perfectionism versus “good enough.” There’s a constant tension between wanting a piece to perfectly match the vision in my head and knowing when to stop, ship it, and let it exist. Coming from the tech world and working on collaborative teams taught me a hard but valuable lesson: a finished project has exponentially more value than a perfect one that never leaves the studio.
When I complete a piece, I always ask: How close did the end result get to what I originally imagined? On a great day, maybe I hit 90 percent, and that’s rare. More often, it’s closer to 50 or 60 percent. Instead of seeing that as a failure, I see it as progress.
Part of the process is learning something new, whether that’s which paints play well together, whether sculptural materials will hold up under their own weight, or how to execute a large-scale mural while keeping everything crisp, proportional, and memorable from a distance.
Rather than fearing the unknown, I’ve learned to embrace it as part of the work. Every project is a little messy, a little imperfect, and a little smarter than the last. That forward motion matters more to me than chasing some imaginary version of flawless.
Appreciate you sharing that. What else should we know about what you do?
People always ask me, “What medium do you work in?” The honest answer is: all of them, or anything that gets the job done.
I don’t think in terms of medium as much as execution. The raw question is what material or process best brings an idea into the physical world. Sometimes that’s paint. Sometimes it’s sculpture. Sometimes it’s light, sound, projection, or a robot driving down the street. I’m less interested in staying inside a lane than I am in seeing the idea through properly.
Visually, I gravitate toward pop art and low-brow aesthetics with heavy graphic intensity. That comes directly from my background in UI/UX and branding. I started as a self-taught graphic designer and leaned fully into those instincts. Bold color, strong iconography, high contrast, and immediate impact shape how I think and build.
A big part of my practice involves light, sound, and color to create what people now call “immersive” experiences. I like adding that extra dimension wherever possible. That might mean custom lighting, subtle ambient sound, or completely replacing a gallery’s lighting setup. I’m notorious for swapping standard gallery bulbs with programmable lighting so I can control the atmosphere. If the environment doesn’t support the work, I’ll rebuild it.
My handmade sculptures have their own quirks. I often use UV-reactive paint, meaning the work shifts and changes depending on how it’s lit. There’s also a discreet sustainability component. I try to build using materials that would otherwise be discarded. For example, the internal armatures of my Flock pop-art flamingo sculpture series are made from hand-hammered aluminum cans and salvaged furniture hardware like screws and wires I’ve saved over time. You can create something new without creating more waste.
I also love upcycling old canvases. That mass-produced print you decorated your first apartment with, now collecting dust under the bed, becomes an exciting new surface. I repurpose old works with spackle and latex paint, transforming something generic into an original piece with organic texture and history. It’s less about perfection and more about giving objects a second life.
Dark Heart exhibition curated by Sküt at Circus of Books West Hollywood
On a larger scale, I’m known for projects that put art where people don’t expect it. That includes two large-scale murals installed along the entry to Skybar inside the Mondrian Los Angeles on Sunset Boulevard (Calavera Elementos, 2025; Happiness, 2023), as well as an ongoing collaboration with Serve Robotics in West Hollywood. Over the last three years, I’ve designed multiple custom delivery robots, including Marsha and Gilbert, honoring historic community icons Gilbert Baker and Marsha P. Johnson.
Last February, I curated a group exhibition titled Dark Heart at the historic Circus of Books in West Hollywood. The show was a commentary on the absurdity of Valentine’s Day through an artistic lens, with the goal of using my platform to elevate other local artists. It was fun, self-aware, and widely well received. Many of the artists sold work and connected with new collectors and galleries. That ripple effect matters to me just as much as my own work being on the wall. Helping other artists rise motivates my creative journey.
I treat art like a living system. It’s part design, part experimentation, and part problem-solving. I want the work to be bold, accessible, and alive. No velvet ropes. No secret handshakes. Just curiosity, execution, and a willingness to try things that don’t fit neatly into a category.
Calavera Elementos mural by Sküt on display at the entrance to SkyBar at Mondrian Los Angeles in West Hollywood
What does success mean to you?
Success, for me, isn’t about prestige or approval. It’s about momentum and curiosity.
If each project teaches me something new, pushes my skills, or opens doors for someone else, I’m winning. I don’t want my work to feel untouchable or locked behind art-world gatekeeping. I want it out in the wild, starting conversations, surprising people, and making you think along the way.
When I’m still curious, still learning, and still brave enough to ship the work before it’s “perfect,” then I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. Growth and evolution are the pillars of my success and happiness.