A small crowd gathers around the entrance to Fouladi Projects gallery at Market and Guerrero in San Francisco. A doorman with a long list in his hand gives me the uneasy fear that I won’t be allowed into the opening, on account of the über-hip celebrity inside. But I tell him I’m with the press, and he shrugs and steps aside nonchalantly.

When I walk inside, every eye turns to register my entrance. The glances are meant to be casual, but the significance is obvious: Everyone is looking not at the art, but at one another. Keeping a keen lookout, perhaps hoping one of the artist’s co-stars from the hit HBO phenomenon Girls will suddenly appear, or wondering who in the small space is related to anything on that totem pole that is fame.

Jemima Kirke, Self Portrait (Blue), 2010

Who are these small circles of people grasping Modelos and glasses of white wine, here to see Jemima Kirke’s most recent gallery show, her first since her acting career took off alongside Girls’ creator Lena Dunham? Even at its most fashionable, San Francisco presents a tableau of grungy fashion and septum piercings. This room, however, looks like the lookbooks for Urban Outfitters, or Free People had released their slick, shiny models, straight from a shoot. The atmosphere is superficially casual, but with a palpable undertone of tension.

One wonders why Kirke chose San Francisco to debut her series of portraits, “Platforms,” although the casual mood of this small opening may have something to do with it. The gallery is filled with beautiful young ladies, handsome well-dressed hipster dudes, and well-groomed older couples oozing wealth—though it is markedly free of paparazzi, or a blockade of frantic fans. It becomes apparent that the largest, buzziest gathering of people in the room surrounds the artist herself: tiny in stature, free-spirited, answering questions, joking around, and comfortably working the room, as would any artist at their gallery opening. By the looks of it, she manages to escape her celebrity for this brief time, and appears genuinely pleased to be in a room full of people: admirers of her art, not merely star gazers.

Long before joining the cast of Girls, Kirke received a BFA from the Rhode Island School of Design in painting, and spent her earlier adult life developing herself as an artist. In a recent New York Times interview, Kirke made it clear that she considers herself an artist; painter first, actress second.

Jemima Kirke, Lena F, 2014

Kirke’s canvases deserve attention for themselves beyond any celebrity premium aside. They reflect a developed, insightful painter and can easily be compared with the likes of Alice Neel. Penetrating eyes peer out from the muted, pastel colors and dark, haunting shadows in Kirke’s portraits. Posed nude, the women in these single-frame epics do not lie passively on display for the male gaze. Rather, they confront you with stories of their own to tell. The naturally poised women span all walks of life, cradled in soft, colorful, yet vague backgrounds. In the portrait Sasha, deep, black shading offsets the small figure of a young girl with clasped hands, evoking the melancholy of a lonely child. In Lena F., a similar sense of contemplative seriousness is apparent in the woman sitting at her desk with her arms crossed sternly, a soft blue halo highlighting the yellow hair behind her enormous, bulging eyes.

Jemima Kirke, Sasha, 2014

Opening night attendees were excited and enthused; when I spoke with gallery owner Holly Fouladi, she hailed the show a success, with all but two pieces selling at the reception. Kirke is nothing but thankful for the opportunity to show her work, whatever the motivation, and is comfortable accepting that her celebrity may have opened this door, as she points out in The New York Times article. As the daughter of Simon Kirke, famed drummer for British ’70s rock band Bad Company, Jemima is no stranger to celebrity and its advantages. It is easy to cringe at the thought of another famous wealthy star pushing her way into the art world, forcing patrons to take notice of underdeveloped, presumptuous musings. Kirke has managed to develop her art, in spite of the distractions that lifestyle can impose.

All images courtesy Fouladi Projects