Emily van Lidth de Jeude

The process I use for making portraits is designed to connect me with my subjects. If possible, I begin by doing a photo-session with the subject(s), then I download some songs recommended by the subjects, and put them on repeat in my studio. I choose a good photo from the session, and lay out the portrait using my handy projector, before setting up my laptop beside my painting wall and getting going with the real drawing work. I use graphite, I scribble, I cross-hatch, and if desired by the person who commissioned the work, I use gesso. There's not a step of this process that is dispensable to me, and I thought I'd explain why.  The reason for doing a photo-shoot is probably obvious. I need to connect with the subject. I've been commissioned a few times to make portraits as surprise gifts for the subjects, and while it's possible, it's incredibly difficult to know if I've captured the essence of somebody I've never met, just working from a photo I didn'...

After one week, this is already a deeply moving place to sit and contemplate the lives, struggles and strengths of all in our community. I am pulled to tears by the contributions of children, here, as well as by some of those written by adults.  This installation will remain at the Hearth Gallery on Bowen Island until September 14th, 2020, slowly wilting and drying as people add their heartfelt notes to selves. Gallery Hours: Thursday through Monday, 10am - 5pm. Just a one-minute walk from the ferry dock on Bowen Island.    

Markus and I just installed the first iteration of my Trauma Cocoon concept at the Surfacing show, Hearth Gallery, Bowen Island. The show opens August 12th! I'm very happy this came together as I hoped, and am also stoked to be showing three pieces from my Songs of the Apocalypse collection at this show. It's the first time I've ever put this deeply personal series on display. A little scary, but feels right.  ... If you could send a message to your former self at the moment of trauma, what would you say? Our lives are full of traumas, from birth to bullying in school, to loss of loved ones and the end of the world as we knew it. This pandemic provides new traumas for most of us, while also offering an opportunity to reach back and heal our younger selves. Did you ever build a fort to hide in? Did you wrap yourself in blankets and chips and Netflix? Did you crawl under your sister’s bed for safety? We ...

Well, it's been an interesting few months. Due to the covid-induced cancellation of my main source of income (the Wild Art program), I've been producing explorative wilderness videos and farming, which has taken most of my time. It's hugely rewarding, but a little sad to feel so disconnected from my art practice. Of course I'm still producing pieces -- all of them part of the Songs of the Apocalypse series. And three of these pieces will be in an upcoming show at the Hearth Gallery on Bowen Island. The show is an invitation-only exhibit called Surfacing, and will open August 15th and closes September 15th. Here's a sneak peek at the sculptural piece I'm including: Trauma Cocoon: Notes to Selves I'll let you mull the title, for now. It's participatory. :-) Mostly I would like to point out that gorgeous man in the photo. That's Markus. I couldn't do anything I do without his support. He's too shy to allow me to credit him for his w...

Yesterday was Earth Day, which we ignored for most of the day, since we were busy with a bunch of important things, among them my partner Markus' work where he makes software for various land-based companies. Some of them are supposedly environmental companies; some are resource extraction companies, and one even has plans to log our home. But never mind. It's a good solid job and gives him employment and financial security in a time where there's not much security to go around. The bosses even took huge pay-cuts to keep from having to lay off employees like Markus. And besides. We live in a wooden house with glass windows, appliances and a car, and we need those resource extraction companies to supply the raw materials for these things. So last night at the end of Earth Day, Markus and I snuggled up in our cozy foam bed and down quilt, with a cup of imported fair-trade hot chocolate with instant factory milk, set our nifty black laptop on our knees, and watche...

Photo: Adrian van Lidth de Jeude A lot of my artist life consists of writing proposals to send to organizations, curators, and gallerists who, if they have time to look at them at all, will likely not respond. But I persevere because I have a studio full of work, and a mind full of plans, and this is me . I can't just stop. Everything I see, think or feel is an opportunity to reach out - to share and communicate and open eyes and touch hearts. Then coronavirus struck, and I found myself struggling to create anything at all, never mind make proposals. What is the point, when galleries are closing everywhere, and the internet is stalling like an old beater with the mad flood of people viewing livestreams and open operas and online exhibitions. Most of the live events I've tried to watch with my isolated kids failed due to server overload. Why go to my studio and create art that nobody will ever see? I asked my daughter this question one dismal day when she generously offer...

I'd just like to thank Emily Carr University Alumni Association for interviewing me for their Get to Know series. I was honoured and delighted (also for the opportunity to give thanks for my education, and specifically to mention Celia King). Link to interview: https://www.ecuaa.ca/get-to-know-series/get-to-know-emily-van-lidth-de-jeude/