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Charm, Despair, and Cardboard Canoes: A Conversation with Isobel Hill
Artist Isobel Hill creates at the intersection of charm and despair. Rooted in the creative freedom of childhood Art Attack sessions, her work spans ceramics, animation, and painting to explore the "eerie" side of the everyday. Here, she discussed with us finding inspiration in moss balls and "stripy-tight" moths, and why your home should be a collection of authentic, timeless souvenirs.
To start things, what drew you to a creative path?
I have always had an interest in making, ever since I was little. I just always knew it was my favourite thing to do and I wanted to do it forever.
Am I allowed to mention Neil Buchanan from Art Attack? In all seriousness I truly believe Art Attack is what kickstarted my innate desire to make things. I sometimes think of little me sat in front of the TV, feeling like there were no bounds to what I could make as I watched that guy rip through reels and reels of sticky tape, pipe cleaners and PVA glue and being utterly mesmerised. My siblings and I once made a full sized canoe out of cardboard boxes and poster paints, a big garden art attack from bed sheets, spades and the rest of what we could find in the shed. My mum and dad would be cheering on from the sidelines watching this utter havoc come into fruition. The outcomes were completely ridiculous but we were always encouraged by them both to explore our creativity, and I think that was so important.
These moments are something that I still remember fondly today whenever I am making. They remind me of the importance to retain that same kind of enthusiasm and freedom in order to work through my thoughts and feelings and bring them to life in my art.
If you could define your practice in a few sentences...
My practice treads the line between charm and despair, capturing the moments when these two elements meet and cause everyday happenings to suddenly then feel very strange.
Your work balances charm with something more melancholic - where does that emotional tension come from?
I think I have always been very interested in the contrast between these two elements and how placing them beside one another can suddenly make everyday scenes feel odd or uneasy. I think it really originates from perhaps the worries that come with navigating much of life. Those moments of bliss that can often feel overshadowed by niggling doubts and concerns.
Are you particularly drawn to artists, writers or filmmakers at the moment?
I went to David Hockney’s exhibition last year in Paris at Fondation Louis Vuitton and it was truly one of my favourite exhibitions. I’ve also recently re-visited Amparo Dávila’s book of short stories, The Houseguest, after reading it 6 or 7 years ago and it continues to be fabulously eery.
Which three artworks or artists most influenced you growing up?
Ooh it is difficult to pick. I’d say when I was a teenager Tracey Emin and Ryan Tippery. And when I was small, I’ve got to say Helen Craig- specifically for Angelina Ballerina. This show was such an important part of my life growing up, her illustrations for Angelina are so immersive, sensitive, nostalgic and charming.
Your scenes feel like fragments of larger stories - are they drawn from memory, observation, or imagination?
It’s a combination of all three really. I have quite a vast collection of images that I have taken over the years, colour references, interesting shadows, items or things that seem out of place. A good recent example is when I came home once and noticed one of the bananas in my fruit bowl had a face in its flesh. Just chilling right there, with a little smile, and I just thought how wonderful it was. I also recently took a photo of a moss ball I happened upon on the pavement. It was perfectly round and lusciously green and just simply wonderful in its mossy sphericalness. I wish I had kept it but alas the ball of moss remained where I found it. But yes, all of these seemingly fragmented references and memories ultimately then tie together in larger compositions, stitched together in ways, which on the surface might seem rather odd or disjointed, but each contribute to hidden narratives throughout the work.
Is there a particular moment from your own life that has found its way into your work?
Oh yes for sure. All of my work originates through the lens of how I navigate life. Experiences (good and bad), mundane everyday moments, happenings, and more poignant occasions. They all sort of filter through and ultimately become my muse, whether that be for just a second or for decades to come. I sometimes then explore a few of these happenings further by combining them with the imagined world, playing around with what could have been and alternate realities.
You move between painting, drawing, ceramics and animation - how has working across disciplines shaped your visual language?
It has really aided me. I love being able to shift between mediums and observe how my initial drawings can take on a new life leaping across glossy ceramics, in light, in paint, and in motion. It really allows me to explore ideas and themes to their fullest and observe how my relationship with them all can change over the years.
What does your creative process look like from first sketch to finished piece?
I first begin with writing poems and taking photos, from here I then begin to work in my sketchbook. For drawing, my favourite sketchbook is a reporter style with off-white, thinner, smooth pages. Here I use the writings from my poems to generate visual ideas and compositions in their first iterations. I’ve always seen my sketchbook stage as the trunk of a tree and my other mediums, whether it be my paintings, animations or ceramics as the branches. For oil paintings on canvas I firstly prepare my grounds, stretching and priming the surface, before I project my drawings and realise them on a larger scale in paint. The process of making my smaller works on paper is a little more erratic and loose, often painting entirely from imagination.
For the undesired outcomes, these take on new life as collaged details, which then are woven into my other pieces. In contrast, my animation process is a lot more methodic, the medium really does dictate this aspect. I draw or paint each frame on paper, these are then scanned and are finally brought to life in photoshop when each image is stitched together.
How do you approach colour - does mood lead the palette, or does colour create the mood?
It’s a little bit of both really.I find much of my colour inspiration comes from the environment around me. I often take photos when I see a colour combo that particularly catches my attention. A recent example is one morning I was in my bedroom and the sun was peeking through my curtain, illuminating a vase I had on my windowsill. It glowed a beautiful salmony orange and behind it was the brightest blue sky I had ever seen and so I snapped a photo. I also saw a perfect little fluffy white moth, sat on a grey door, wearing black and white stripy tights. From researching I later found out she is a Leucoma salicis (her tights are in fact natural and I am very jealous). Anyway… I loved the colour combination so made sure to take a photo of her too.
What draws you to certain recurring characters or motifs?
Over the years you sort of build up your own visual language of imagery. I often think of it as a personal library of hieroglyphics. Consciously or unconsciously I have found motifs reoccur many times throughout my work which sometimes don’t crop up for many years and then without warning will reappear and I’m like “oh hello again”. A recent one others have observed in my work is imagery of cutlery, which I didn’t realise myself had been reoccurring. Additional motifs that I hold close are little pooches, figures, birds and most recently in my oil paintings a small folly building that was a large part of my life for a period of time.
What advice would you give to someone wanting to bring more narrative or personality into their home through art?
Something I have always truly felt to my core is to never worry about trying to achieve a certain look or vibe within your decor, personal style or interests. Be drawn to, and acquire the things that you truly love. Draw inspiration from your life and the world around you, through books, film, people and feelings.
Make sure to take your time, collect, and eventually you will build a home and a space that is authentically you. Each object or artwork will naturally have a narrative, items will not just simply be items but souvenirs. Colour schemes will unconsciously become harmonious across your space and you will ultimately feel the most peace and comfort here because you are not trying to be perceived as anyone but yourself. Your home and the art you choose will therefore be timeless.
Isobel's take on the "Flâneur".