Emilie
Syme-Lamont

Predominantly I am a painter, although my paintings feel more like drawings to me. They are exploratory, loose and unfinished; the way that a sketch feels. I tend to introduce other, often sculpted elements to my paintings in the form of unusual frames, cast objects like clawed feet or even artificial light. There is something in my practice that demands the meeting of a real, tangible form with the surreality of the painted image.

I read and write a lot. Mostly I read short fiction. I feel a kindred intention with certain short story writers who are able to build up worlds and collapse them in the space of a few short pages. I collect fragments of sentences, film stills, photographs, and discarded objects. I make endless notes on ideas that have caught my attention, trying to find the connective tissue between a multitude of elements. I work on studies in watercolour, meanwhile, imagining forms, textures and colours that can contrast or clash; to add something unexpected to the narrative. This is a slow process and somewhat elusive. Then I get to work in the studio to bring the project to life. There needs to always be space for surprise, accident and intervention. Until the final moment a conversation takes place between myself and the artwork, when the conversation ends, the artwork is either finished, or abandoned.

I have been in near constant movement over the last five years, studio space is often improvised and incomplete. My Google Drive and sketchbook are the closest thing to a stable work space which I can tap into anytime and in any place. While this has its obvious pitfalls, there is a sense of openness and energy that this mode has provided. When I do have a physical studio it is quickly filled with books, old photos, bric-a-brac, fabric and strange material that I collect from the world. It feels like a bird's nest of incoherent and beautiful matter.