Interview with Donna Andronicos
Donna, you utilize both photography and acrylic/mixed media in your artistic process. Could you elaborate on how transitioning between these mediums influences your creative approach and the eventual outcome of your works? Specifically, how do elements like light and texture translate differently or similarly across these forms?
I love to explore different genres and techniques with my photography and my artworks, some of which are complimentary, and some that are not, but all of them, collectively, continue to meet my creative needs. Creativity for me is a multi-dimensional aspect of who I am. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t mesmerised by light, colours and textures. As a photographer I often view the world in a series of images, whether that’s a potential great street shot, a beautiful landscape or wonderful blends of colours and textures. I think this same lens translates well to my artworks, but in a different way. A photographic image captures a moment in time, whilst an artwork can evolve over time. Regardless of whether I’m behind the lens, or in front of a canvas, both provide me with a wonderful sense of mindful meditation. I can’t imagine a life without both of these creative aspects of my life in it.
Your goal for viewers to engage with your art on a sensory level is fascinating. Could you share a specific instance where feedback from an observer highlighted a particularly unexpected or poignant sensory or emotional response? How does such feedback influence your subsequent creations?
I always love to hear what others see or feel when they look at my artworks. To observe someone, just for a while, be in the moment, as they explore an artwork, seeking a sense of connection or meaning. I also love how two people can look at the same artwork, and see or feel something completely different. For example, an abstract landscape that I sold recently instantly took the new owners back to happy times that they had spent in Scotland. It was an instant connection for them, which I love. Other feedback I have had is that people see something magical or spiritual in my work, conjuring up images of spectral faces, good vs evil or magical creatures, which is often unexpected. I think what the viewer sees or feels when they look at an artwork, comes from a place within themselves, their own internal lens if you like. They connect with a piece in a way that is real for them, the same way a piece of music can send us back to certain time or place in our lives. I think art has the power to have a similar sensory effect on us too. I can understand this connection, as I have the same experience when I create an artwork. I connect to it in a way that is personal to me. So, to hear that similar connections are transferred to others is amazing.
You've mentioned an interest in the spiritual and the 'unknown' as central to your inspiration. Can you discuss how these elements manifest in your work? Are there specific symbols, colors, or compositions you find yourself drawn to that might convey these spiritual narratives?
I’ve always felt that there is so much more to our world than what lies immediately in front of us, and I love having that sense of mystery about life. So much of our lives is dictated by shades of black and white, things that are certain and defined, so for me, maintaining a sense of a universal energy outside the everyday of our lives, that not only connects us to other people, but to the world around us, is core part of my faith and belief system. I also have a love of myths, legends and stories of magic and mystery, but to be honest, I’m not 100% sure how all of this translates to some of my art, as I often don’t ‘see’ or feel this magic and mystery in a piece until it’s completed. This leads me to wonder if, when this does happen, it is transferred unconsciously to an artwork as it’s created. There is definitely an energy transfer from myself as an artist to the artwork itself. You can’t avoid this, as you infuse your own feelings, energy and emotions into a piece as it’s being created. The fact that others often see or feel elements of fairytale-esque landscapes, an essence of magic, mystery or something more spiritual in my artworks is enough for me. In terms of how this might happen, well, I’m happy for that too to remain part of the mystery.
Over the last 15 years, your work has evolved towards bolder and more colorful expressions. What pivotal moments or influences drove this evolution? How do you think your previous corporate experience has influenced your artistic direction and choices?
I think the evolution towards bolder compositions and colours came as a result of my confidence building as an artist, as well as the realisation that it’s OK to make mistakes, which brings with it a certain creative freedom. Allowing yourself to experiment and to just ‘see what happens’ can often take your work to unexpected places, once you remove the expectations on either yourself, or your artwork.Art and photography have always provided a fantastic balance for me between the creative and corporate sides of my life. One side of my life is very structured, organised and deadline driven, and the other is more free, fluid and mindful. Together, they create a harmony, and the skills I have in one world, can transfer to the other when needed, which I think is a great asset to have in my life and business ‘toolkit’.
You describe your process as organically feeling your way through the creation of your art. Could you walk us through the stages of developing a new piece, from initial inspiration to completion? What are the most critical decisions you find yourself making during this process?
It might sound strange but I don’t think I’ve ever consciously thought about my process before. Whilst sometimes I do start out with an end goal in mind, more often, the process usually begins with specific colour combinations that I feel drawn to. I like to work with complimentary colours and add in an accent colour that helps to make the other colours ‘pop’. The next stage for me would be to decide how I want to bring this colour combination together, using either one, or a variety of techniques. This can include working with more fluid paint or inks, working with a texturising medium, or working straight from the tube with a palette knife - all of which depends on the type of textures or patterns I want to create. The whole process, if I’m often, is often an instinctual one, depending on what feels right on the day. Quite often, I have no predefined idea of what the end artwork will look like. I’ll just start working, and let the process and the artwork itself guide me as to what happens next as it comes together. I think this is where the two sides of my life, corporate and creative, come into play. I want my artworks to evolve, without structure, and to emerge in a way that sometimes even takes me by surprise. There’s a great freedom in that for both me, and the artwork.
One of the key decision points for me is knowing when to just step back and not overwork a piece - which is often a challenge. When I think I’m getting close to this point, I usually take a photo of the piece to view it through the eyes of the observer, vs the artist. This helps me to see things that you can sometimes miss when you’re in creation mode. If I feel something is missing that I just can’t put my finger on, I usually walk away and come back to it the next day, or even a few days later until I identify what I feel is missing. Allowing for any finishing touches, I think you just ‘know’ when a piece is finished. It’s a gut feeling. For me, I love that sense of freedom when I’m painting and allowing the artwork to develop its own sense of being.
The use of unconventional tools like building scrapers and kitchen knives suggests a unique approach to texture. How did you come to adopt these tools, and what do they allow you to express in your art that more traditional tools might not?
My studio is awash with all sorts of bits and pieces. I’m always looking at something, whether it’s a kitchen utensil, a tool in a DIY shop or a found object and pondering - “what could I do with that?”. The variety of tools I use does help with the creation of different textures and patterns, but they are also appealing for the application of paint too, especially when working on larger canvases, allowing me to move easily from large sweeping layers of paint, to more intricate and delicate designs. My toolkit contains everything from traditional brushes and palette knives to metal rules, decorator’s paint brushes, pieces of net, cardboard, old bank cards, offcuts of tubing, and plastic and metal building or plastering tools, as well as various air blowing tools and even combs and shaving brushes. It’s all about variety for me. Some work well, some don’t, but I like to keep experimenting.
You have a distinct approach to using contrasting and complementary colors. Could you explain your philosophy behind selecting color schemes? Do you begin with a color in mind based on your emotional or spiritual state, or is it more a response to the physical environment?
I do have my favourite ‘go to’ colour combinations, but yes, I do believe that the colour combinations and approach I sometimes take with my artwork is based on where I might be ‘at’ on a given day. For example, a long walk on an autumnal day can draw you towards more earthy colour combinations, in the same way that the colours of other seasons can influence you. This year in particular though, I have noticed how what I am experiencing personally has influenced my work in a couple of significant ways. Following a number of health challenges this year that had considerably restricted me at a physical level over a long time, I noticed two things. When I was able to paint, my artwork had a new sense of freedom and almost abandonment about it which I feel may have been a counterbalance to the lack of freedom and frustration that I was feeling in other areas of my life at the time. Almost like an emotional release to counterbalance the physical restrictions I was experiencing. Also, following some extended breaks that I needed to take to aid my recovery, I experienced more creative ‘blocks’ this year due to the lack of having a regular routine. To break through these blocks, I would try something completely different to reignite my creative spark. This, in turn, uncovered new ways of working; new techniques, which had I not gone through what I have experienced this year, may have remained undiscovered.
I have always found a sense of calm and mindfulness in my creative activities, whether that’s behind a lens, or in front of a canvas. A place to center myself, in times of peace and turbulence in life - and this year in particular, I have remembered the valuable role that this side of my life plays for me, and the healing process.
Your intention for viewers to 'stop and maintain their gaze' suggests a desire to slow down the process of art consumption. In an age where digital media often accelerates interaction, how do you craft experiences that encourage deeper, more reflective engagements with your art?
This hope, or intention, is more about wanting the viewer to slow down in general. Life has a rapid speed to it. We’re all so busy in our lives ]that I think sometimes, we can forget to just take a beat; a moment to just breathe and be in the moment. Something I think we’re all guilty of at times. When we do take those moments, we become more in tune with ourselves and our senses. This is the connection I would like the viewer to experience. When we’re in that space, we’re more likely to relate to an artwork in a way that goes beyond seeing it with only our eyes. Exploring an artwork, anyone’s artwork, from a central point, working outwards or wherever our experience takes us, allows us to see more than just the surface. It allows us to connect in a way that is meaningful for us and takes us to places, both real and imagined. How often in life do we allow ourselves to have those types of experiences? Not often enough. So, whilst I have not yet facilitated my own solo show, I do enjoy pondering ideas on how, when the time comes, I can try to create the right environment to encourage this experience, and design a sensory feast for visitors.
Having turned to painting during a recuperative phase in your life, in what ways do you view or promote your art as a form of therapy? Are there therapeutic intentions behind the scenes or textures you choose to depict?
From my own experiences over the years, yes, I would 100% recommend any type of creative activity as part of someone’s therapeutic journey. For me, it has primarily been art and photography, for someone else, it might be pottery or gardening. When we’re going through tough times in our lives, as a default, we can often try to think our way out of the situation, or overthink what is happening to us. As we know, through the mind/body connection, what we think can influence how we feel - for better or worse. Creativity uses a different part of our brain, providing us with an emotional and mental release and taking us, and our headspace to a different place.
For my own artwork, there is no conscious intention from a therapeutic perspective, other than the ones I’ve already described. As an artist, the creation of my artworks or photographic images is my own personal healing space in both good, and not so good times. For the viewer, it may represent something different. That’s the fabulous thing about creative endeavours, the reciprocal relationship that exists for both the creator and the observer.
With your increased focus on making art more than just a hobby, what are your aspirations for the next phase of your artistic journey? Are there new mediums, themes, or collaborations you are aiming to explore?
A great question to end with. As I mentioned, this year has been a challenging one for me on a number of levels, so recently, just getting back to a place where I feel more like ‘me’ again and being able to slowly become more active in my life again has been my primary objective for some time in 2024. However, always trying to find the half glass full aspect of a situation - whilst these challenges have reduced my production, they have allowed me to focus more on promoting myself and my work this year, which, oddly enough, was the plan I started the year with. So in a way, despite the challenges, I have achieved what I set out to do in 2024.
I’m only in year two of my journey, and I’m realistic about the time and commitment required to follow the path I have chosen. So, as I look towards next year, I’d like to continue to explore how my experiences this year continue to influence my work in 2025, which yes, I suspect may involve new mediums and themes. I’ll also be taking part in my first London Art Show next year, which I had to postpone this year, so I’m very excited about that, as well as a couple of new potential projects that I’m working on at the moment.
I’ve also brought some focus back again recently to my photography, after spending two years primarily focussed on building a foundation for my artworks; so I’m keen to see how these two genres compliment and challenge each other creatively next year too. Either way, I just want to keep growing and developing as an artist. I know I still have a lot more in me that can be expressed in different creative ways - so I’m excited to see where next year takes me on this journey.
