Louise Neiland’s new exhibition of captivating landscapes blur the boundaries between memory, time and place …
Who or what was instrumental to your love of art?
The headmistress at my primary school was also a painter. She offered after-school art lessons to students who were interested, and I was lucky enough to be one of them. She would collect old calendars for us to use as references and we worked with oil pastels, a medium I loved. I clearly remember her teaching me about colour when I was ten. One lesson that stayed with me was when we studied a snowy landscape and I noticed for the first time that shadows on snow are blue. The richness of the oil pastels captivated me and I can still remember the distinctive smell when I opened the box to begin a new piece. At home, I sculpted with clay and plasticine, and I was always drawing. My parents were very supportive of my creativity, which encouraged me to keep exploring and developing my interests in different mediums.
“For me, each piece is a narrative, rich in suggestion rather than literal storytelling.”
How would you describe your work and how has it evolved?
I would describe myself as a symbolist painter. I use figures and landscapes as symbolic elements to evoke emotional and psychological states. The stories I tell are not sequential; instead, each painting exists as a self-contained world complete in itself while also hinting at a larger, ongoing narrative that spans multiple works. Although the imagery is rooted in my own experiences, memories and perceptions, I’m always aware that the true meaning of a painting is completed by the viewer. I aim to create space for personal interpretation where symbols resonate differently depending on one’s own life story.
What was the starting point for your new exhibition?
My new exhibition is called Nowhere, Now, Here. I’ve always loved how the word “nowhere” quietly holds “now here” within it, two ideas that seem like opposites, yet are inseparable. The work in this show is a weaving together of images I’ve seen, read or dreamed. They are nowhere and my hope is that these pieces draw the viewer in, anchoring them now here, fully in the present moment.
“I rarely see the pieces upright until they’re stretched and installed in the gallery space, which always brings a sense of surprise and discovery.”
How and where do you work?
Each new series begins in my sketchbook. At this stage, I draw and gather keywords and phrases that resonate with me. I work from what I call waking dreams; vivid impressions sparked by something I see, read or remember. These impressions form the basis of a visual diary and shape the direction of the work. I don’t work directly from photographs, but I often use elements from them, sometimes combining parts from several sources to create a starting point that feels emotionally or visually charged. When I’m working, there’s often an overlap between collections. A key painting from an earlier series might carry forward or a piece may emerge that doesn’t quite fit within the current body of work. These moments often signal a shift toward something new.
I work from a studio in my home. Because of the limited space, I developed a way of creating larger works horizontally. I rarely see the pieces upright until they’re stretched and installed in the gallery space, which always brings a sense of surprise and discovery.
