"Much of my life as a scenic painter, was spent on dark film stages with dramatic lighting. My experience of working in these conditions has informed my work. I am thinking about light and the suggestion of human presence. Stage lighting is trying to synthesise real life but being up close reveals a fascinating artificiality."
Nina's Instagram: @nina_ogden
How and when did you know you wanted to be an artist?
From as far back as I remember I had the urge to create. I was always ‘making’ as a child, whether it was potions from the contents of the bathroom or papier mâché balloons. I would create photo shoots from random bits and clothes in my bedroom. My father had a photographic dark room, and I would spend time developing film with him. Analogue photography had this unpredictable magic, it’s where my relationship with the photographic image began.
What was your experience of art school?
Before the RCA, I had a career as a scenic painter for television and film. The course provided me with a discursive and supportive environment to really push my practice. When I studied for my BA at Wimbledon School of Art (many years before), painting was unfashionable and actively discouraged. At the Royal College, everyone was using paint, even making their own. We were just coming out of the lockdown and there was a sense of returning to earthly visceral materials, after being reliant on technology.
I found my tribe there and I have a supportive network of artists around me as a result.
Can you tell us more about the ideas and inspiration behind your work?
Before establishing my fine art journey, I worked in television and film as a scenic painter. It is a world of trickery and illusion. Working within these simulated modes of reality (from spaceships to council houses) has left me questioning the truth of what we see. My fascination with the artifice and technology continues.
Much of my life as a scenic painter, was spent on dark film stages with dramatic lighting. My experience of working in these conditions has informed my work. I am thinking about light and the suggestion of human presence. Stage lighting is trying to synthesise real life but being up close reveals a fascinating artificiality. I have literally added human presence
I tend to use a limited colour palette in oil and expose the wood ground to stop the pieces from being overly descriptive. The wood forces me to paint more gesturally as it’s so absorbent and sometimes rough. The panels take on an architectural existence similar to the theatre and stage than a canvas in some way. The grain adds this extra earthly texture to work with.
Are there other artists or movements that have inspired your work?
I recently visited the wall paintings at the Grotte de Niaux in southwestern France. We had to walk a long way into the caves to see the 14,000-year-old paintings which depicted bison, horses and deer. It really was like finding treasure. The main thing I took away from the experience is that painting has fundamentally stayed the same. It’s still pigments from the ground spread on a surface and it carries the weight and essence of the human condition. It’s a language that communicates so much more than a verbal language.
Painting transmits a language which is impossible to replicate or put into words.
I take a lot of inspiration from film, notably 1939’s Wizard of Oz. The moment when Dorothy and friends reveal the inner workings of the wizard (essentially an old man) operating a giant puppet behind a green curtain. The feeling of fascination followed by disappointment interests me.
Can you describe a typical day in the studio? How do you approach your work?
I roll into the studio at about 8.30 coffee in hand. I have a studio in my garden, so the commute is pretty good! I must be quite disciplined with my time, so I stick to a routine. I have banks of images on my phone which I collect from the internet and photos I’ve taken myself. Some are a result of photo shoots I’ve set up in the studio. I will play with objects on light boxes in the dark, developing ideas much as I did with photography as a child. I flick through them until one presents me with an idea. The photo is a starting point and then I manipulate it or use collage to draw several pictures together which spark more ideas. It’s very intuitive. I start the painting and then gradually remove the picture, so the piece takes on a life of its own.