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The How Series: 25 New Works to Complete the Collection 6 Years Later
August 30th, 2024 by Emma
Since its inception in 2018, “The How Series” has been a deeply personal exploration of how I experience and interpret the world. Across 75 pieces, I’ve shared my journey of tuning into the sights, sounds, and sensations that shape my perception of life (initially catalysed by trying to navigate life after losing my Dad). These artworks have become a way for me to translate fleeting moments and complex emotions into something tangible, a reflection of how I see, hear, feel, and understand the world.
The Final Chapter: Completing the Collection
Today, I am thrilled to announce the expansion of The How Series with 25 new and final pieces, completing the collection at 100 works. This extension of the series is not just a continuation but a crescendo – these pieces will be carefully refined, enriched with fresh insights from recent inspirations, and are highly anticipated by past collectors, bringing to a close a journey that has evolved over six years.
A Dictionary of Marks: The Impact and Evolution of The How Series
The How Series began with a rather significant debut: the first 10 made their appearance at my first ever solo exhibition (see photos above). Their reception was beyond my expectations, with all pieces finding homes remarkably quickly.
The series as a whole has become an indispensable part of my practice, functioning as a visual dictionary of mark-making. It has not only influenced my ever-evolving style but also conceptualised new pieces, by dissecting an array of emotions and observations then translating them into a unique language of abstraction. This collection stands as a cornerstone of my art, representing a crucial phase in my creative development and influencing how I approach and interpret my work.
Throughout the collection’s evolution, various life events have influenced additional pieces, including a colourful trip to Ibiza (see photos above). Each new addition has expanded the series, reflecting the diverse experiences that have shaped my artistic journey thus far.
At its heart, The How Series has been instrumental in defining my artistic vocabulary, enriching my practice, and connecting with collectors and viewers around the world. Its impact extends far beyond the individual artworks, contributing significantly to the broader narrative of my artistic evolution.
Inspiration from Greece: A New Muse
The inspiration for these fresh works will be drawn from a variety of rich sources. My upcoming trip to Greece (September 3rd-13th) will be a primary muse, with its vibrant landscapes, textures, and colours influencing the direction of this final chapter. I’ll immerse myself in the sun-drenched hillsides, ancient ruins, and shimmering coastlines, documenting the experience in a journal that will later inform the textures, shapes, and emotions in the artwork.
Revisiting My Journals: A Reflection on the Past
But Greece is just one part of the story. I’ll also be revisiting my journals, art collections, photographs and diary entries from the past few years. My journal entries typically capture a wide range of experiences, from quiet, introspective moments to more dynamic and emotionally charged events. They’ve been the foundation for much of my previous work, and now they will contribute to these final, exclusive pieces.
The Final 25: Redefining The How Series and Concluding a Journey
As with all the works in The How Series, these new pieces won’t be literal representations of specific places or moments. Instead, they’ll be abstract interpretations – deconstructions of the sights, sounds, and feelings I’ve recorded over the years. These artworks will encapsulate how these experiences have shaped me and how I’ve come to see and understand the world.
This final set of 25 artworks will represent a 6-year time block that has been as much about personal growth as it has been about artistic expression and creative metamorphosis. As well as this, the work is sure to be influenced by our latest exciting news: we are expecting a baby girl next February following a challenging couple of years.
As the concluding chapter of a collection that has touched lives and captured imaginations across the world, these pieces are not just reflections of my life path but also contribute to a broader narrative that speaks to the universal human experience.
Gratitude and Anticipation
Thank you for following my journey and for your continued support. The final chapter of The How Series is about to be written, and I’m so excited to share these sentimental works with you. Here’s to the completion of a collection that has been years in the making – one that will live on with collectors all over the world, connecting us all through the shared language of art.
The Art of Losing: How Instagram’s Algorithm is Destroying Business For Artists
July 24th, 2024 by Emma
I want to start this post with a heartfelt acknowledgment. I understand that my words might seem intense or critical, but it’s crucial for me to speak openly and truthfully. As an artist who has dedicated heart and soul to my work, witnessing my art business (and other artists) suffer due to corporate algorithms is deeply disheartening.
I’ve been working on an art-focused Instagram account for 7 years, with over 3000 posts showcasing my art and connecting with my audience (you’re really great – thank you). And over the last three years, my analytics have plummeted. The stress of having to constantly pivot, to veer off my authentic nature just to stay trendy and “with the times” for the sake of views, likes, and follows, is overwhelming. My reputation and engagement on Instagram profoundly affect the overall discoverability of my work and my sales. During this same period, Instagram users are being brainwashed by useless content, deliberately changing their buying habits and desires. This shift turns the majority of people off from buying from small, authentic businesses like mine and many other genuine creatives. I don’t want to sound bitter and resentful, but the universal use of this app has become totally deranged.
What’s happened to us? We’ve become addicts to mind-numbing, pointless, and brain-deadening videos. Morning and evening, humans now compulsively scroll through useless content that brings us nothing good or productive.. DM-ing our friends with ridiculous memes and videos of unrealistic expectations. It’s a vortex of distraction; a black hole where time and creativity go to die.
Instagram’s algorithm now prioritises ads, paid posts, and clickbait content designed to shock and stir. It’s a brainwashing machine that promotes sensationalism over substance. Small businesses and honest creatives who just want to share their craft and make a living are left in the dust. The algorithm favours video content, dumb trends, faces, nudity, youth, and younger accounts.. and if you’re not willing to dance for the camera or play the fool, your chances of being seen are slim to none.
What has this done to the art community? It’s pretty devastating. Honest creatives – you know, those of us with art and design running through our veins, who used to rely on organic engagement and genuine interest, are struggling to keep our heads above the water. Our work is buried under a flood of superficiality, our voices drowned out by the cacophony of clickbait and empty entertainment. The process, which once brought joy and fulfilment, now feels like a burdensome chore, making me feel like a slave to the algorithm.
Despite all this, giving up will never be an option for me. Art is more than just business. It’s always felt like a calling, my soul’s purpose, a tribute to my Dad, an extension of his legacy.. and I refuse to let it be drowned out by the noise of an algorithm. But I won’t deny that the enjoyment of the process has been severely diminished. What used to be a joyful expression of creativity has become a constant struggle to appease an ever-changing, unfeeling, dumb algorithm.
I miss the days when people used social media to connect meaningfully, to discover real art, to support small businesses, and to appreciate the depth and diversity of human creativity. But those days feel like a distant memory now. The platform that once promised connection and community has become a commercial battlefield where only the loudest, most sensational voices get heard.
Through all the turmoil, one thing keeps me going: the thousands of faithful collectors around the world who have supported (and continue to support) my journey. To each and every one of you, I am profoundly grateful. Your unwavering support and zest you feel towards my work mean more than words can express.
Algorithm bitching aside, I am always excited to welcome new collectors into this incredible community and look forward to collaborating with other businesses and galleries. The prospect of sharing my work with new audiences and forging new connections fills me with hope and excitement, even in the face of these challenges.
Putting my work out into the world is not just important; it’s essential. It often serves as a way for those who have experienced parent loss and grief to find connection and a reminder that everything will be okay. A lot of my work aims to give them a nudge to stay strong and resilient. Being able to translate the ups and downs of life onto a surface and inspire others around the world is why I do what I do. Admittedly, publicising my life and work is challenging, especially as a camera-shy individual and someone who rubs shoulders with imposter syndrome.. but despite these obstacles, being open and vulnerable with colour and mark-making remains to be a vital element, bringing light and hope into even the darkest times.
If you’ve made it this far, thank you for listening. I know this post won’t change the algorithm or the behaviour of billions of users overnight. But maybe, just maybe, it will resonate with someone out there who feels the same way. Maybe it will spark a conversation about the direction we’re heading and what we’re losing along the way.
So here’s my plea: let’s support real art and champion authentic creativity. Behind every small business, there’s a person pouring their heart into their work, hoping to make a living doing what they love.. and this is what needs to be shared and celebrated.. not videos of people burping in supermarkets.
Going forward, the majority of my art practice updates are done via newsletter. So, please do sign up to my mailing list, if you aren’t already.
Thank you for reading. Over and out.
Instagram: @emhow1
Become a Collector: View Collections
Email: [email protected]
Press Release: Solo Show at Sixteen Gallery
August 3rd, 2022 by Emma
Young Cotswold artist, Emma Howell is announcing her new solo exhibition, New Terrain, which will be shown from 16th – 29th September 2022 (update: the show will close on Sunday 2nd October) at Sixteen Gallery in Cheltenham. The exhibition is intended to celebrate the progression of her work since 2018, with previously unseen pieces and a showcase of her most recent work.
Dedicated to her late father, Mark Howell, Emma describes the exhibition as an “exploration of terrain as a concept relating to the individual.” She goes on to explain that “your terrain is not only where you live, the ground that you walk on and the environment that you immerse yourself in; it is also a word to collectively describe the biological components that make you a living, breathing and ever-evolving human.”
Emma uses her art to help to nurture her mind, body, and soul, which has been crucial since the loss of her father in 2016, and her New Terrain show reflects the process of self-care that she has learnt to develop over this time. She has focussed her paintings to help you to feel grounded and unplug you from our uneasy civilisation; they are here to open your mind, soothe your soul, and spark feelings of nostalgia.
“All my work is dedicated to my Dad” Emma reveals. “Experiencing his loss was the genesis of my entire art practice – and continues to inform my work as a constant influence, and as a lens through which I experience my surroundings. My work is a progressive appreciation of the world around me, and through colour and form, the intention is to celebrate life and experience – and offer viewers a form of escapism.”
The New Terrain exhibition will feature Munson Guitars, custom and bespoke guitar luthiers who will introduce their special edition guitar, Gaia: Against The Grain, hand-painted by Emma. They will also be hosting a seminar (get tickets here) and demonstrate their range of guitars in honour of her late bass player father. The exhibition will also showcase exciting new products from leading British pottery aficionados, Sculpd.
Working on paper and canvas, and with a range of media including paint, pencil, and pastels, Emma describes her work as the instinctive way she navigates life and nurtures her own sense of self. As time passes, the terrain that she navigates constantly evolves, as does the work that she produces in response. With artwork now proudly displayed across the world including in Europe, the US, Australia, and Seychelles, Emma is a British abstract artist based in the Cotswolds who lives with her husband, Jon, and dog, Gibson.
- New Terrain runs from 16th September – 2nd October 2022 at Sixteen Gallery, Montpellier Street, Cheltenham, GL50 1SW.
- There will be a quiet private viewing of the exhibition at 4pm on Friday 16th for collectors, subscribers, friends and family. Then the official launch party will start at 7pm.
- For exhibition tickets – https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/new-terrain-solo-art-exhibition-by-emma-howell-tickets-391934485597
- Tickets and information for the Munson Guitars seminar – https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/munson-guitars-meet-the-makers-tickets-403500570067
- High res images of work available on request from Emma Howell: https://www.emmahowell.co/
- Instagram – @emhow1
Emma Update: Love, Weekly Art Drops & September Exhibition
June 20th, 2022 by Emma
I am excited to announce
that on Sunday 5th June, in the presence of all our nearest and dearest, Jon and I got married. We feel incredibly grateful to have been able to squeeze the day in amongst all the world chaos – and what an awesome day it turned out to be (apart from the rain – but that’s meant to be lucky, right?).
The morning after the wedding
we kissed Gibson goodbye and hastily piled into the Fiesta to go catch our plane to Kos, Greece.
The honeymoon turned us into expert tzatziki tasters and calamari connoisseurs; we cycled on city bikes to Tigaki and stopped to watch flamingos crossing the salt lake, then back through Kos Town for a Mythos beer at the marina; we hiked and scrambled up Mount Dikeos only to be enveloped by a cloud with no view (oh well); we walked with peacocks and gazed up at blue domed churches; we took a boat to the island of Nisyros where we climbed into a volcanic crater, roamed the colourful streets of Mandraki and ate fresh white fish that was cooked right in front of us (Khokhlakoi Taverna). Kos totally spoilt us and we managed to (mostly) complete the island in 10 days.
Despite now being known as Emma Munson,
Emma Howell the artist and business will remain the same. So, your collections of artwork will always be sound 👌🏻
Admittedly (and I think it’s been rather obvious), my practice has taken a back seat over the least few months. Planning the wedding, family gatherings/celebrations and various house projects have enveloped us since the beginning of 2022. And aside from the spontaneous (and quiet) launch of the TERRAIN collection in April and the list of commissions I’ve been tapping away at, my painting days have been few and far between. Although, I did manage a little bit of painting on the honeymoon.
Be that as it may, I am back and raring to go.
The way I work (in practice, in business and online) is changing up a bit. One thing that I can hold my hands up to is that since mid-2021, my practice has lacked some organisation. So, being the savvy businesswoman that I am (ha!), I have conceptualised a new way to work – a way that matches my typical creative rhythm and clearly choreographs the year. Please be aware that this new approach will start off as provisional, until I get into the swing of it. It’s never nice to commit to something and then not have it follow through or go as planned – it happens.
Let’s start with weekly art drops.
Each week, you’ll see me release a series of artworks (typically small pieces with a price range of £75-£200) and they will reflect whatever medium/style/topic/mentality that arises that week. Having small (and inexpensive) art drops like this will not only help tight budgets, but also act as a weekly meditative reflection, and encourage/challenge my practice to develop on a regular basis. At first, look out for these on my Instagram, as my website needs a rejig.
Plus quarterly launches and announcements.
This is when larger pieces and/or full artwork collectives (e.g. 81 Wild) will get their moments in the spotlight. Depending on the calendar and any potential opportunities that may arise (e.g. exhibition/collaboration), each quarter will have something exciting for you to look out for. Whether it be a solo/group show at a local gallery, a trio of extra large landscape paintings or a collaboration with a wine company (desperate to design a label – any connections out there?).. there will be some sort of announcement sent out. So, make sure you’re on my mailing list.
And here’s Q3’s announcement for you.
From September 15th – 29th 2022, you will find me at Sixteen Gallery in Cheltenham where I will not only be painting/working at the gallery, but also hosting a solo exhibition. The exhibition details (e.g. title and curation) are still being conceptualised, but all I can tell you at the moment is that you will be able to view and purchase from a very wide range of my artwork, dating back to 2018 (now that’s vintage!). Basically, me and my entire portfolio will be at the premises.. along with some new/works in progress, too. So, get those dates in your calendars and book a trip to The Cotswolds – I want to meet you all! Private view will be organised for friends/family/collectors. More later.
Last note: Commissions
Wedding preparations delayed my spring commissions a tad, but I’m back on it and ready to fill spaces for July to September. If you’re hoping to add a totally bespoke artwork to your living space – perhaps a specific landscape, still life scene, abstract emotive piece etc. – drop me an email ([email protected]) or head to my contact page and let’s work together on it.
Much love, Emma
Private Reserve: An Exclusive Collection For Subscribers & Collectors
November 21st, 2020 by Emma
From Friday 1st January 2021, I will be launching a Private Reserve collection, comprised of original paintings and drawings kept private from the public. (Similar to how vineyards keep aside a private reserve of their aged wine).
The artworks within the Private Reserve will be a combination of new works, old works, one-offs, new medium experiments, pieces I initially created for our home here in Gloucestershire, works that don’t belong to a cohesive body of work (e.g. four year wild fire or Raw Honey) and works that will generally warrant a higher price tag. The Private Reserve will be updated sporadically throughout the year and will only be accessible (to view and purchase) with a password exclusively shared with my collectors and subscribers.
You can sign up to my mailing list here.
I’m very much looking forward to releasing the first pieces of the Private Reserve in the new year. Stay tuned.
Four Year Wild Fire: Private View And Launch November 2020
November 7th, 2020 by Emma
Your raw words, my raw translations
four year wild fire (2020) is an intense and eclectic collection of original abstract paintings. The work has evolved over the course of 4 months and is comprised of 32 original works on paper and 2 original works on hand-stretched raw canvas (launching later).
The 34-piece collection comes to light just over four years since my Dad passed away. Up until now, the majority of my work has been a candid reflection, coping mechanism and evolution of my grief – and despite the healing qualities of the process, I’ve felt the need to take a different track.
I wanted to focus on you: the watcher/collector.
So, back in July, I asked my audiences to submit anonymous words to me with hope to create abstract translations of the submissions.
The works in this collection are representative of the many voices out there that don’t necessarily get heard, and each piece is here to shine a light on the people out there who support my work every single day.
From a grocery list and a random thought to a long, heartfelt account of a traumatic break-up, I was taken aback by the number of honest submissions I received. Fears, secrets, random words, songs, love poems, terrifying confessions.. quite a wide range filled my inbox. And I must admit, reading all of these words and evolving artworks from them affected my mental state quite significantly throughout. So-much-so, I had to take a break and step away from the intense words I read over and over.
Before long, the whole collection came together and every single anonymous submission was used. However, not all words have been publicised – only snippets. So, if you don’t see your submission, it doesn’t mean it wasn’t used.. it was just difficult to whittle down all the snippets onto the artwork listing page.
To everybody out there, thank you for your words, your love and your patience. I hope I’ve done your words justice.
Launch Schedule
If you’re signed up to my mailing list, you will receive an email to gain exclusive access to the collection on Saturday 7th November at 12pm GMT (private view). 24 hours later, the artworks will be available to purchase (private launch). On Monday 9th November at 5pm, the collection will be released to the rest of the world.
Private view: Saturday 7th November 12pm GMT
Private Launch: Sunday 8th November at 12pm GMT
Worldwide Launch: Monday 9th November at 5pm GMT
“The first time I ate a vegetable I had grown from seed and accomplished such an amazing thing. Pride and joy!”
“A decision was made last year and it’s always on my mind. Was it the right one? I’ll never know because it impacts the future. I have never liked not knowing what is going to happen or if something is possible. I get frustrated and angry so the decision is always a step away in my mind.
My other half is proud of me and wants me to go to college. He’s very positive thinking and I’m the negative thinker. I end up reading too much into the numbers and percentages about conception and age and I scare myself. The what ifs terrify me. What terrifies me most is; what if I made the wrong decision and, by the time college is ended, what if it doesn’t happen for us?“
“He was always a sentimental guy. He sobbed anytime I left. It’s a funny thing to me that he liked jazz. He also liked nice cars and taking out loans that he could never pay for. Because of this, I’m torn about how to be sad while I watch my mom deal with the financials now. I find myself being angry more often and then just breaking down with sadness because it is to hard to be mad at this time.”
“Swaddled in my favorite sunny yellow sweatshirt, and bare feet, cold now, resting on the porch banister. The laminated cover of the library book crinkles as I turn another page, the sounds of water swishing and lapping gently against the shoreline washing over my ears.”
Four Year Wild Fire: A Collection to Honour Your Real Life Stories
September 11th, 2020 by Emma
“I’m in love with two men at once, it’s tearing me apart. One is twice my age and makes me feel the passion and the need and the excitement of my life. One is just a few years older and makes me feel safe and loved and homely. I don’t know how to choose.” – Anonymous
four year wild fire (2020) is about you. It’s an eclectic body of work that reveals abstract translations of words that some of my watchers and collectors have sent to me over the last few weeks (anonymously, of course).
And your words have hit me hard.
The submissions differed greatly; I received raw feelings, shocking confessions, heart-breaking family stories, powerful poems, epic travel experiences, devastating break-ups and many more. As I read through them, I laughed, cried, empathised, felt intimidated and some – admittedly – made feel very scared and worried. A few times, I wished that they weren’t anonymous, just so that I could reach out to whoever wrote them.
But that wasn’t an option – I had no choice but to emotionally detach from the words in front of me. I guess kind of like how therapists do it? They can’t really be your friend at the end of the day. I must say though – to those of you out there who did share troubling stories and/or sad feelings, I hear you, you’re not alone, you deserve love and life is too short to not seize the day. As Jon would tell me on the days where I’ve let darkness envelope me, “you’ve got this” and “look how far you’ve come“.
Hey, maybe when this collection is released, view the pieces for a breather from your everyday or use them as a reminder to stay strong and a prompt to keep your head up.
“I start pounding on the door, leaning on it for strength. The bright colors are turning to dark spots, and I collapse as my host mother opens the door. They carry me up to the bedroom, and my host sister holds my hand while I lose consciousness. I ask her, in English, if she will miss me. Of course she says yes. I’m not sure if it’s the truth.” – Anonymous
Over the last few weeks, I’ve been developing the pieces in the collection, solely taking inspiration and guidance from the submitted words. Translating words, experiences and other people’s emotions into marks, colours and compositions has proven to be quite the challenge.. but also a breath of fresh air for me.
Because up until now, it’s been all about me.
Most of my artwork to date has been all about me.. my grief, my experiences, my travels, my thoughts, my trauma, my whatever. It’s easy to get stuck in my own head and you know what? I think this collection is the start of something new, and it’s certainly proving to be somewhat of a transition or evolution of my practice.
I’ve learnt that I don’t have to or need to create artwork that revolves around the grief after losing my Dad. Of course, I’ll still use painting and drawing as the therapy, but the context and ideologies behind my pieces needn’t embody the sadness. Perhaps for me to grow, learn to accept and deal with my woes, my career as an artist needs to stop orbiting around the fact my Dad died. Yes, it’s the reason why I’m here doing this and I’ll always talk about it, but the work I create doesn’t need to always represent it.
So, I want to focus on you.
One of the first submissions I had was detailing a relationship situation – and to give you an idea of how I’m creating these pieces, here’s the thought process I had for this specific piece:
Your imminent break-up gives me feelings of sadness, but also optimism because it sounds like the right thing for you. Shades of blue for the melancholia you’re feeling pool their way across the paper, alongside quick and rough pencil trails to represent the new adventures ahead of you. A hopeful tangerine orange blasts its way across the blank space to help you find the enthusiasm and courage to walk down this new path.
As you can probably tell, I’m very much immersed in the evolution of this collection. It excites me, it baffles me, it challenges me and it really makes me think.. as opposed to getting totally lost in my own sea of meh. I feel honoured to have read your words and thrilled to see where they take me creatively.
Things are happening.
As four year wild fire progresses, my eyes are opening, my mind is broadening, my ideas are growing and things are happening.
The release date is still yet to be decided, but it will be sometime in October. If you’re interested in being a collector of work in this collection, make sure you’re subscribed to my mailing list. All of you on my list will receive the pre-launch password to access the pieces first. In other words, you get first dibs on viewing and purchasing the pieces.
Any questions about the collection (e.g. sizing, pricing, framing etc.), contact me directly here.
Travelling To America: An Art Collection To Visually Take You To All 50 States
July 19th, 2020 by Emma
81 Wild comes to light at quite a strange time for a lot of us. We’ve been stuck at home – or on the contrary – have been working on the front line of a global pandemic. And as a result, we’ve been living in a heightened state of anxiety, separated from our friends/family and also unable to travel.
As a self employed person, I’ve been at home staring out the window. In the grand scheme of things, this is a very fortunate position to be in – safe and sound behind closed doors. However, on the flip side, you could say that us indoor folk have had our fair share of oddities and shortcomings. Some of us may have developed habits (physical and emotional) and the mere prospect of going out, socialising and travelling seems utterly impossible. I had a conversation with someone in the dog park the other day and I ended up getting tongue tied – like what was I even saying, I don’t even know.
Nevertheless, the notion of travelling seems quite far off for a lot of us, doesn’t it? Jon and I are always planning where we’re going next in the world, but with these conversations at a standstill, I knew that this energy had to go somewhere.
So, I’ll make a collection about it.
Something that Jon and I have always wanted to do was to travel across the states. Sure, we’ve been to Washington D.C a handful of times, been lucky enough to attend a wedding in Hawaii, drove from D.C to Nashville last year.. but we haven’t branched any further. And, you know, the USA is rather huge. Wildly intimidating, in fact.
81 Wild is an attempt to mentally, visually, hypothetically and creatively travel to all the states. And I’ve been able to do this with help from my collectors and watchers around the world, who have been kind enough to send me beautiful descriptions of their homes/where they’ve travelled to. And get this, people – I managed to gather words for every single state.
I read every word sent to me, developed numerous prototypes to test colour schemes and compositions (surprisingly sold them all) and then went on to create 50 final pieces – one for each state.
50 panoramic, cinematic and abstract landscapes.
The 81 Wild collection is comprised of 50 original pieces that embody imagination mixed with realism. With help from the descriptions and my mere fascination towards the eerie expanse of the land, creating these pieces was an attempt to mentally travel to each place. The works are visual translations onto paper, shedding a spotlight on the state’s landscape, weather, colours, textures, flora, fauna, sounds and culture.
The compositions are almost polaroid-esque, photographical and cinematic, capturing the place in one shot, in one slide, in one frame.. Colour is important; it draws your eye in instantly, gives you an automatic impression of the landscape and a feel for the character of the location.
A different kind of experience.
I get it, this whole thing is a strange notion: to mentally travel somewhere, with our eyes, through art etc. But let’s give it a go.
Before you view the collection below, I must give a huge thank you to everybody that submitted state descriptions – your words were not only beautiful and inspiring, but also incredibly eloquent. On each artwork’s product page, I’ve taken a small snippet of your words (some meshed together), so that the rest of the world can somewhat share the experience.
A tribute.
To a beautiful and fascinating country, and also Beth, Jose & family – who are my lovely extended family across the pond. They are the absolute epitome of kindness, generosity and optimism; a family that welcomed me into their home all those years ago when I had lost my way in life; a family that have taught me to truly live life to the fullest; a family that have taken me on unbelievable adventures (Hawaii wedding included). This whole collection was made with them in mind.
In addition (and as always), every single piece is dedicated to my Dad, Mark Howell (1959-2016). I wouldn’t be climbing this ladder if it wasn’t for you.
Let’s travel together.
Making Art / Talking Art: True-Grit And Being The Boss
June 21st, 2020 by Emma
Making Art / Talking Art was the name of one of my modules back when I was studying Fine Art at art school. The module focused on the “critical reflection, discussion and knowledge exchange, through various methodologies of integrating theory and practice”. So, we’d essentially sit in groups (along with our art critics/tutors) and discuss each of our practices in detail, ensuring we were able to keep in tune with our work and maintain confidence in articulating the physical, emotional, professional and ideological aspects of our practice as serious artists.
I woke up this morning thinking about this module.
At the time, I think I was too immersed in the actual making of artwork that group discussions like this were hard to grasp. I remember some days when I didn’t have much to say because of some underlying attitude and constant yearn to just make and not talk. Thankfully, towards the end of my final year, I found a comfortable path to walk down and I graduated with a better sense of who I was as an artist.
Knowing what I know now, and working as the artist I am today, has made me realise just how in tune I am with my work now and just how out of tune I was when I was trying to pinpoint where I belonged in the art world back at university.
You’re trying to fit in.
You’re trying to be edgy and you walk around feeling like you need to prove something to the high authority art figures in the big cities. In doing this, you’re losing touch with your own authenticity and you’re working for them instead of yourself. Hence why art school isn’t always necessary to become a successful artist. In some ways, you could say it’s detrimental to the discovery of your true innate creativity – especially if you’re just trying to tick boxes to break into the London art bubble. I’m getting a bit too deep here.
The art world is evolving.
And as it pairs with the digital world, the professional work of an artist is starting to be in our hands – and not the hands of art critics, high-end galleries, good connections and global publicity (although these obviously help). Our practices are whatever we want them to be, and it’s our duty to tell the world about it.
But what about our art’s value and reputation?
Doesn’t it make you wonder why some other artist’s work matters more than others? Surely, we all have the same agenda – to create. It’s quite often the galleries, critics, magazines, brands, celebrities and political movements that still give artwork its value. Artwork can be quickly produced, with no story and unappealing colour schemes (obviously subjective) and still be worth thousands if it’s put under the right spotlight.
I find it crucial that I’m the one who initially gives my work its value and reputation. I’m so overprotective and emotionally attached to my work that I feel it’s my duty to proclaim its value. Perhaps in the future, I’ll work with others and my reputation will evolve – but right now, it’s in my hands.
Our practice is such a significant part of our lives.
Heck, sometimes it totally envelopes my life. Some nights, I’ll wake up at a ridiculous hour, check my emails and respond to a message from a collector in a different time zone. Or I’ll start to fall asleep and then suddenly come up with an idea for a social media post, so I’m back on my phone with Jon huffing in the background. Or I’ll crouch over our kitchen island making work for hours on end, proceeding to worsen my back pain and headaches. My practice is essentially the epitome of my existence. Wow – deep again.
My work is my Dad’s legacy.
Most of you will already know why I’m an artist today and how I got here. But for those of you that don’t, I’ve committed to my work as an artist to keep my Dad’s legacy alive.
He passed away on September 9th 2016 – after his initial doctor’s appointment for a slight cough, we had 6 weeks to say goodbye. He had metastatic colon cancer and his diagnosis was only finalised the day after he passed away. So, our lives were completely flipped upside down. You can read my story on more detail over on this blog post.
He was an insanely talented bass player and made sure to be in charge of his own life from the get-go. He worked for himself, had his own way of navigating life and wouldn’t let anybody stand in his way. Well, apart from his wife and kids. He fell in love with my Mum and her ankles when they were 18 – and he dedicated his whole life to giving his family the best life he possibly could. So much so, he’d work in his music shop all day and play in his bands all night. He was always working – for us.
And with reflection, two things he used to say to me often go through my mind: “life’s a bitch and then you die” and “work for yourself because being boss is king”. Now, the pessimist in me (inherited from my Dad – thanks) is totally enticed by the first statement – it makes me wallow, which I love to do. But my sheer determination and desperation to succeed for my Dad allows me to ignore it. Instead, I take his latter advice and be the boss.
So, as you can imagine, my work is extremely valuable to me. Every single piece that is displayed in your homes, offices, cafés and galleries is an attempt to share his legacy around the globe. We can no longer hear his musical talent, which is one of the most heartbreaking things for me. So, in some ways, I like to embrace my artwork as a raw translation and extension of his unbelievable talent that we can no longer experience.
Raw marks and perception characterises my work.
Authenticity, spontaneity, remedy and honesty are words that identify my practice. As an artist, I keep my head down and constantly ask myself what I want to create and why I want to create it. And I’d say for the last year or so, I haven’t hunted for inspiration from any other artist or even thought about it. I’ve been so caught up in my own head and have actually found it to be important to work it all out on my own. This way I can take full credit for my work.
With this in mind – even though my work has an underlying sad reason for its existence, I find it crucial that each piece emits varying feelings of enthusiasm, optimism, true-grit and joy.
Taking the latest four pieces in the It’ll Be Alright collection as an example, I want my collectors and watchers to identify these feelings with help from the raw marks, colour matching and dynamic compositions.
Anyway, to tie up this blog post, I just want to reiterate how important my work is to me – and hopefully, to you.
And I’m so grateful to all of you who continue to support my practice as the bereft, emotional and slightly strange artist that I am.
Thank you for your kindness.