ARRON CRASCALL
ORIGINAL WORKS
Raw. Energic. Unapologetically Expressive.
A collection of original works where street art, popular culture and raw emotion collide.
Get 100 bonus points on purchases over $300
❋
Sitewide Summer Sale
❋
Use code SUMMER30 for up to 30% off
❋
Get 100 bonus points on purchases over $300 ❋ Sitewide Summer Sale ❋ Use code SUMMER30 for up to 30% off ❋
FeaturedTHE ONE THAT
GOT AWAY.
ALMOST.
ROMEO, ROMEO · 2023
There are pieces you admire. And then there are pieces that stay with you long after you've walked away.
Romeo Romeo was one of those.
I saw it hanging in a gallery and immediately connected with it. Then, a few weeks later, it appeared to have sold.
I thought I'd missed my chance.
Until a completely unexpected meeting with Arron revealed that the story wasn't quite over.
Sometimes you find the art.
Sometimes the art finds its way back to you.
Sometimes the story behind a piece becomes almost as important as the artwork itself.
I saw Romeo Romeo, loved it — and then thought somebody else had bought it.
I was wrong.
SOMETIMES THE ART FINDS YOU.
It started at an art car boot sale in Brighton.
I met Arron Crascall and, although I knew who he was, I had absolutely no idea he was an artist.
We got talking, I discovered his work and ended up buying a piece.
It was completely unplanned — which, looking back, seems rather appropriate.
Some time later, I walked into a gallery and there it was.
Romeo Romeo.
Huge, colourful, chaotic and impossible to ignore.
It was one of those pieces that stopped me. I didn't need to understand why. I just knew that if circumstances were right, I'd love to own it.
A few weeks later, I looked again.
It appeared to have sold.
And that was that.
Or so I thought.
Then, completely by chance, I bumped into Arron again.
We got talking and somehow Romeo Romeo came up in conversation. I mentioned that I'd seen it, loved it, and assumed somebody else had beaten me to it.
They hadn't.
It was still available.
The piece I'd already accepted had got away suddenly hadn't got away at all.
This time, I wasn't going to make the same mistake.
I bought it.
And I've always loved the strange symmetry of what happened.
A work called Romeo Romeo.
Something I fell for.
Something I thought I'd lost.
And something that, completely unexpectedly, found its way back into my life.
Some pieces you search for.
Others seem to find you.
Romeo Romeo was one of those.
LIFE THROUGH ANOTHER PERSON'S LENS
Perhaps that's why the story of Romeo Romeo matters to me.
I've never wanted this collection to be defined simply by names, editions, values or what somebody else thinks I should own.
For me, collecting is much more personal than that.
It's about that moment when something makes you stop.
Sometimes it's the image. Sometimes it's the artist. Sometimes it's what the work makes you feel. And sometimes it's the completely unexpected story of how it eventually found its way onto your wall.
Because over time, these works become markers.
They remind you of places you've been, people you've met, conversations you've had and moments in your life that might otherwise have disappeared.
And perhaps that's what The Allun Lewis Collection is really about.
Not simply collecting art.
Collecting stories.
Collecting moments.
Collecting pieces of a life.
ORIGINALS
Sometimes the story behind a piece becomes almost as important as the artwork itself.
I saw Romeo Romeo, loved it — and then thought somebody else had bought it.
I was wrong.
SOMETIMES THE ART FINDS YOU.
It started at an art car boot sale in Brighton.
I met Arron Crascall and, although I knew who he was, I had absolutely no idea he was an artist.
We got talking, I discovered his work and ended up buying a piece.
It was completely unplanned — which, looking back, seems rather appropriate.
Some time later, I walked into a gallery and there it was.
Romeo Romeo.
Huge, colourful, chaotic and impossible to ignore.
It was one of those pieces that stopped me. I didn't need to understand why. I just knew that if circumstances were right, I'd love to own it.
A few weeks later, I looked again.
It appeared to have sold.
And that was that.
Or so I thought.
Then, completely by chance, I bumped into Arron again.
We got talking and somehow Romeo Romeo came up in conversation. I mentioned that I'd seen it, loved it, and assumed somebody else had beaten me to it.
They hadn't.
It was still available.
The piece I'd already accepted had got away suddenly hadn't got away at all.
This time, I wasn't going to make the same mistake.
I bought it.
And I've always loved the strange symmetry of what happened.
A work called Romeo Romeo.
Something I fell for.
Something I thought I'd lost.
And something that, completely unexpectedly, found its way back into my life.
Some pieces you search for.
Others seem to find you.
Romeo Romeo was one of those.
LIFE THROUGH ANOTHER PERSON'S LENS
Perhaps that's why the story of Romeo Romeo matters to me.
I've never wanted this collection to be defined simply by names, editions, values or what somebody else thinks I should own.
For me, collecting is much more personal than that.
It's about that moment when something makes you stop.
Sometimes it's the image. Sometimes it's the artist. Sometimes it's what the work makes you feel. And sometimes it's the completely unexpected story of how it eventually found its way onto your wall.
Because over time, these works become markers.
They remind you of places you've been, people you've met, conversations you've had and moments in your life that might otherwise have disappeared.
And perhaps that's what The Allun Lewis Collection is really about.
Not simply collecting art.
Collecting stories.
Collecting moments.
Collecting pieces of a life.
THE PIECE THAT STARTED IT ALL
ALEXANDER
Sometimes you see something completely differently from the person standing beside you. Perhaps that's the point.
Our introduction to Arron Crascall's art happened completely by accident.
Maria and I had gone to the Brighton Art Car Boot Fair and, as we always tend to do, started with a recce — walking around, talking to artists and seeing what caught our attention.
Then I saw this.
There was no artist standing with it. No explanation. Just the work.
And it immediately caught my eye.
Not far away I spotted Arron Crascall. I knew Arron as the funny guy from the videos, so I remember saying to Maria:
“Look, Arron's here. He must be filming one of his videos.”
We carried on walking.
It was only when we came back around that I realised the person I'd recognised wasn't there to make a video at all.
He was the artist.
And the piece we'd stopped to look at was his.
That was the beginning of my relationship with Arron's work.
But what made me want to own Alexander wasn't simply the coincidence of discovering who had created it.
It was what I saw in it.
LIFE THROUGH ANOTHER PERSON'S LENS
Alexander the Great has been frozen in our imagination for more than two thousand years.
Young. Powerful. Beautiful. Conquering.
He created one of the largest empires of the ancient world — and yet he never lived to see 33.
And that's what I see when I look at this piece.
Arron has rendered Alexander in this extraordinary black gloss. His face is recognisable and seemingly permanent, yet the surface appears to be melting away in front of you.
For me, that changes everything.
I don't see a portrait celebrating eternal youth.
I see the illusion of it.
The young face remains fixed in history, while the person behind it has long since disappeared.
The gloss runs.
The image dissolves.
Time wins.
And perhaps there's a lesson in that for all of us.
We spend so much of our lives behaving as though there will always be more time. Another year. Another opportunity. Another moment to do the things we've been putting off.
But youth isn't permanent.
Neither is success.
Neither are we.
Alexander conquered almost everything that stood before him, but there was one thing even Alexander the Great couldn't conquer.
Time.
That's what this piece says to me.
Whether that's what Arron intended almost doesn't matter.
Because that's the extraordinary thing about art.
The artist creates the work.
We bring our own life to it.
And somewhere between the two, it becomes something entirely personal.
ALEXANDER
Arron Crascall · Original Work
For me, a portrait not of eternal youth — but of just how quickly it disappears.
About the CollectionRooted in earthy tones and natural texture, this vase draws the eye with its layered surface and sculptural presence. Its generous shape makes it ideal for statement arrangements—or as a work of art all its own.
