Have you always been a painter?
I have. It wasn’t something I originally studied, but I grew up in a family of painters. Art was just something you ‘did,’ not something you went to university to do. I went to study English Literature and Spanish instead and lived in Spain for a while. But I knew I wanted to do art full-time and that realisation smacked me in my 30s; you’ve only got one life, and you’ve got to do what you want. So, I applied for the Royal College of Art and I got in, and now I’m a professional artist.
Your recent work aims to reconcile motherhood with art- what was your inspiration for this?
I went to the Royal College of Art whilst raising a 3-year-old and a 6-year-old. There weren’t a lot of parents in my MA- maybe only 10 percent of the class. My big question and struggle was: how could I be an artist and a parent at the same time? It was really difficult, and I just couldn’t see a way to combine the two. I think I’ve figured it out now.
And what was the answer?
It’s different for everybody, but for me, it’s about finding ways to channel important things that happen in life into art. I allowed grief, becoming a mum, and the massive transitions I was facing, to permeate into my work. Also, I was creating in lockdown. Stuck at home, on zoom, trying to paint, and all I could see were my kids. So, I painted them. It was both necessity and practicality. I managed to combine my children and my art, and it is working for me, but I wouldn’t necessarily say it’s ‘cool.' The art world desperately needs to shift and change in this way, but I think I see it coming and that’s exciting.
The vivid colours that infuse your paintings, particularly hues of pink, could be seen to reference your young children too…
When I’m painting, I let external influences like observation and the use of sense inform my artistic ideas. But the colour palettes come from an internal force. I use a lot of pink because I have two young girls and I’m surrounded by it- colours definitely seep into my consciousness, and in turn I allow them to filter into my art. It’s often quite a millennial sickly pink that I use, a plastic toy-type pink. I have been using a lot of fluorescent pinks recently. Sometimes these colours even make me feel quite ill, but they just feel right for the painting.
As it’s largely about them, do your children like your art?
My work is hung up in the flat, so yes, I think so. I put a painting in my daughter’s room when she was 4 and she’s since ‘added to it.’ She’s written her name on it and said “Mummy, that’s a rocket.” Maybe it looks better now.
Is it true that you draw without looking at the page? Why is this sensory element so intrinsic to you and your art?
It’s true. I used to be a physio. When you’re training, you have to learn the skill of palpation. It’s about being able to identify the difference between bone, muscle, and organs using the sense of touch. I loved using that sense, so I applied it to my drawing. I don’t look down at the page, because to me the sense of touch overrides the sense of a perfect drawing. I want my work to be more about a feeling, an essence, and a combination of senses.
Some of your paintings are very humorous and colloquial. Is comedy important to the narrative of your work?
Yeah definitely, I think my art got very heavy at one point. It was all about miscarriage, grieving, and post-natal depression- it was just a bit dismal. Then I worked through that a bit by doing a dissertation and started to realise that actually life is really funny. Death is funny too, in a weird way. I like artists such as Rose Wylie. Some of her art is quite tongue-in- cheek because she doesn’t take herself too seriously, but her work is still compelling. I kind of want to be like that. I don’t want to seem pretentious. I find humour in things and I just want to share that. I love David Shrigley’s work as well; his use of words and the art of overhearing what people chat about. Humans say such funny things and you can make whole paintings out of them.
And you sometimes use words in your own art too…
Yes! A tutor who I didn’t connect with once made a questionable comment to me. She simply stated, “I don’t like words in paintings,” and couldn’t elaborate as to why. I then became like an obstinate child and said, “Well I’m going to paint more words then,” and produced the piece “Paint More Words.” Doing that made me realise that I’ve got two real loves- words and painting. I combine the two forms if it feels right for what I’m saying and how I’m feeling. Sometimes people are quite snobby about what things mesh well together and what doesn’t. When creating, it’s so important to do whatever you feel, and not listen to what others say something should be.
Although these literal elements are present in your paintings, your art is still very abstract. What’s your take on the concepts of ‘figurative’ and ‘abstract’?
They are traditional conventions, and naturally, there’s a line drawn between them. A line that is blurred. People always want to put things in boxes and sometimes they just don’t fit, or they can be all those things at once. So that’s where abstract work appeals to me; escaping the boxes. I do like figurative work and I think it’s really important, but if a painting is too literal and doesn’t have anything else to say, it’s just boring. I like my art to be layered, complex, and have hidden elements. Tracey Emin said this brilliant thing: “When you go to see a fortune teller, you want them to tell you something you don’t know, not something you already do.” This is kind of what you want art to do. As a viewer, you want to be able to infer, interpret and connect to the painting yourself, so it has to be quite open.
You describe paint as “controlled spillages of emotion.” Do you mean your own emotions?
I try not to use my art as a form of therapy because that makes me feel a bit ‘icky’. I think I probably did in the past and I don’t want to overshare anymore. But I appreciate that in art you can’t hide everything- you need to free yourself when you are painting and stop thinking. You’ve just got to ‘be’. The ‘controlled spillage of emotion’ is about having full authority but letting yourself go within those parameters. Sometimes though it’s about a lack of control; I occasionally mix colours up together and then pour them to watch how they move.
Your paintings always seem to pose controlled and honest questions about the world. What are you questioning within your current work?
I am always thinking. There are always questions and they are changing all the time. At the moment my questions are about friendship and having your own personal boundaries- not letting people walk all over you.
Do you ever take a break from work?
I live right on the beach, so I swim in the sea all year round, that’s my thing. But I don’t really ever switch off from painting, no- maybe that’s bad, but it does feel like more than just a job. I think about it constantly; when I’m with my kids, in my dreams even.
Do you have a motto?
When I first got a studio space, I met a very established painter and I asked for her top piece of advice. “Let yourself fail,” she told me. I wrote those words on my wall. I guess that failing is really the only way you can grow and improve.
What was your favourite exhibition- something that you are proud of?
My work has been featured in lots of exhibitions, but I curated my first show recently in Brighton with some of my old tutors and fellow students from the Royal College of Art. It was completely knackering but incredible. I had a little seed of an idea, and each artist came on board with energy and passion. Everyone brought something individual to the project and suddenly my idea just started to grow legs. What we managed to create together was way beyond anything I initially imagined, and I am keen to get involved in more collective and collaborative work. But not just with artists- with other writers, designers, poets, and musicians.
What else is next for you, Emily?
I just want to keep painting. I want to keep working and keep improving, keep taking risks and keep putting everything I can into my art. I want to expand my connection with other artists because I got a taste for that at the Royal College of Art. I’m represented by Gertrude Art so I’m going to be doing some shows for them soon. And I want to just keep going really. Work, work, work!
Have you always been a painter?
I have. It wasn’t something I originally studied, but I grew up in a family of painters. Art was just something you ‘did,’ not something you went to university to do. I went to study English Literature and Spanish instead and lived in Spain for a while. But I knew I wanted to do art full-time and that realisation smacked me in my 30s; you’ve only got one life, and you’ve got to do what you want. So, I applied for the Royal College of Art and I got in, and now I’m a professional artist.
Your recent work aims to reconcile motherhood with art- what was your inspiration for this?
I went to the Royal College of Art whilst raising a 3-year-old and a 6-year-old. There weren’t a lot of parents in my MA- maybe only 10 percent of the class. My big question and struggle was: how could I be an artist and a parent at the same time? It was really difficult, and I just couldn’t see a way to combine the two. I think I’ve figured it out now.
And what was the answer?
It’s different for everybody, but for me, it’s about finding ways to channel important things that happen in life into art. I allowed grief, becoming a mum, and the massive transitions I was facing, to permeate into my work. Also, I was creating in lockdown. Stuck at home, on zoom, trying to paint, and all I could see were my kids. So, I painted them. It was both necessity and practicality. I managed to combine my children and my art, and it is working for me, but I wouldn’t necessarily say it’s ‘cool.' The art world desperately needs to shift and change in this way, but I think I see it coming and that’s exciting.
The vivid colours that infuse your paintings, particularly hues of pink, could be seen to reference your young children too…
When I’m painting, I let external influences like observation and the use of sense inform my artistic ideas. But the colour palettes come from an internal force. I use a lot of pink because I have two young girls and I’m surrounded by it- colours definitely seep into my consciousness, and in turn I allow them to filter into my art. It’s often quite a millennial sickly pink that I use, a plastic toy-type pink. I have been using a lot of fluorescent pinks recently. Sometimes these colours even make me feel quite ill, but they just feel right for the painting.
As it’s largely about them, do your children like your art?
My work is hung up in the flat, so yes, I think so. I put a painting in my daughter’s room when she was 4 and she’s since ‘added to it.’ She’s written her name on it and said “Mummy, that’s a rocket.” Maybe it looks better now.
Is it true that you draw without looking at the page? Why is this sensory element so intrinsic to you and your art?
It’s true. I used to be a physio. When you’re training, you have to learn the skill of palpation. It’s about being able to identify the difference between bone, muscle, and organs using the sense of touch. I loved using that sense, so I applied it to my drawing. I don’t look down at the page, because to me the sense of touch overrides the sense of a perfect drawing. I want my work to be more about a feeling, an essence, and a combination of senses.
Some of your paintings are very humorous and colloquial. Is comedy important to the narrative of your work?
Yeah definitely, I think my art got very heavy at one point. It was all about miscarriage, grieving, and post-natal depression- it was just a bit dismal. Then I worked through that a bit by doing a dissertation and started to realise that actually life is really funny. Death is funny too, in a weird way. I like artists such as Rose Wylie. Some of her art is quite tongue-in- cheek because she doesn’t take herself too seriously, but her work is still compelling. I kind of want to be like that. I don’t want to seem pretentious. I find humour in things and I just want to share that. I love David Shrigley’s work as well; his use of words and the art of overhearing what people chat about. Humans say such funny things and you can make whole paintings out of them.
And you sometimes use words in your own art too…
Yes! A tutor who I didn’t connect with once made a questionable comment to me. She simply stated, “I don’t like words in paintings,” and couldn’t elaborate as to why. I then became like an obstinate child and said, “Well I’m going to paint more words then,” and produced the piece “Paint More Words.” Doing that made me realise that I’ve got two real loves- words and painting. I combine the two forms if it feels right for what I’m saying and how I’m feeling. Sometimes people are quite snobby about what things mesh well together and what doesn’t. When creating, it’s so important to do whatever you feel, and not listen to what others say something should be.
Although these literal elements are present in your paintings, your art is still very abstract. What’s your take on the concepts of ‘figurative’ and ‘abstract’?
They are traditional conventions, and naturally, there’s a line drawn between them. A line that is blurred. People always want to put things in boxes and sometimes they just don’t fit, or they can be all those things at once. So that’s where abstract work appeals to me; escaping the boxes. I do like figurative work and I think it’s really important, but if a painting is too literal and doesn’t have anything else to say, it’s just boring. I like my art to be layered, complex, and have hidden elements. Tracey Emin said this brilliant thing: “When you go to see a fortune teller, you want them to tell you something you don’t know, not something you already do.” This is kind of what you want art to do. As a viewer, you want to be able to infer, interpret and connect to the painting yourself, so it has to be quite open.
You describe paint as “controlled spillages of emotion.” Do you mean your own emotions?
I try not to use my art as a form of therapy because that makes me feel a bit ‘icky’. I think I probably did in the past and I don’t want to overshare anymore. But I appreciate that in art you can’t hide everything- you need to free yourself when you are painting and stop thinking. You’ve just got to ‘be’. The ‘controlled spillage of emotion’ is about having full authority but letting yourself go within those parameters. Sometimes though it’s about a lack of control; I occasionally mix colours up together and then pour them to watch how they move.
Your paintings always seem to pose controlled and honest questions about the world. What are you questioning within your current work?
I am always thinking. There are always questions and they are changing all the time. At the moment my questions are about friendship and having your own personal boundaries- not letting people walk all over you.
Do you ever take a break from work?
I live right on the beach, so I swim in the sea all year round, that’s my thing. But I don’t really ever switch off from painting, no- maybe that’s bad, but it does feel like more than just a job. I think about it constantly; when I’m with my kids, in my dreams even.
Do you have a motto?
When I first got a studio space, I met a very established painter and I asked for her top piece of advice. “Let yourself fail,” she told me. I wrote those words on my wall. I guess that failing is really the only way you can grow and improve.
What was your favourite exhibition- something that you are proud of?
My work has been featured in lots of exhibitions, but I curated my first show recently in Brighton with some of my old tutors and fellow students from the Royal College of Art. It was completely knackering but incredible. I had a little seed of an idea, and each artist came on board with energy and passion. Everyone brought something individual to the project and suddenly my idea just started to grow legs. What we managed to create together was way beyond anything I initially imagined, and I am keen to get involved in more collective and collaborative work. But not just with artists- with other writers, designers, poets, and musicians.
What else is next for you, Emily?
I just want to keep painting. I want to keep working and keep improving, keep taking risks and keep putting everything I can into my art. I want to expand my connection with other artists because I got a taste for that at the Royal College of Art. I’m represented by Gertrude Art so I’m going to be doing some shows for them soon. And I want to just keep going really. Work, work, work!