Angela Witmore in her home studio, Accord, NY (image by AJ Lee)
“Mama, you should paint more from your imagination.” Oh, from the mouths of babes straight — like a dagger — to my heart. My seven year old son, Arthur, dropped this devastating statement on me recently, sat in a cafe, while he stared in admiration at the strange picture on the wall above our heads that depicted little gnome-like creatures popping up across a farmyard scene. The painting was hideous, but it was probably the best creative advice I’ve received in decades.
In truth, Arthur had managed to put into words something that was brewing inside my brain after I had the pleasure of spending a morning with artist Angela Witmore, a few weeks ago. When I explained that I usually work from photographs, Angela told me: “I’m trying to get at the reality of how things feel, not exactly how they look… I prefer to paint from my memory or imagination. The paintings have bits and bobs from observation but I’m not trying to replicate anything exactly.”
It is those leaps of imagination — and confidence in her own version of reality — that draw me to Angela’s work. She manages to convert the quotidien rhythms of motherhood and domestic life into lush, captivating images that are full to the brim with carefully chosen colors: heightening the scene, or choosing to celebrate the most vibrant pieces of the world around us. Angela’s work had originally caught my eye on social media and visiting her home felt a little like stepping into one of her paintings: yellow bench contrasting with a dark front entrance, bubble gum-pink cupboard doors, plants in every corner adding different hues of green, and Frida, the blue heeler, jumping up to say hello.
Angela lives nearby in Accord, NY, but her unusual journey to this place at this moment has taken her around the world, collecting style and tone inspiration as she goes. From Delhi, to Chiang Mai, to LA, to NYC to the Hudson Valley — Angela’s influences range from Indian miniatures (“There’s a lot of forced perspective, amazing scale shifts, and contrast of flat space and detail”) to New York abstract expressionists (“I love Philip Guston: he basically just painted with pink.”)
Having now set up a home studio, Angela sketches daily and paints as much as she is possible — when her baby is sleeping, in between school runs for her eldest, flexing between pure painting and occasional textile design, juggling practicality with creativity. Angela uses this distinctly motherly experience of constant motion and demands — ”You’re not pregnant any more but your body is not your own,” as she put it — as fodder for art; yet allows her imagination to transcend mundanities and conjure new worlds for her to inhabit. I’m inspired to do more of that.
A painting in progress in Angela’s home studio (image by AJ Lee)
AJ Lee: Thank you for having me over. I would love to understand your journey as an artist better. Let’s start at the beginning — where did you grow up?
Angela Witmore: I grew up in India. My parents worked there. Both my siblings were born there, but I was born in the States and moved to Delhi when I was one. My mum is a nurse specializing in communicable diseases, running a lot of clean water initiatives, and my dad did a lot of translation work. I lived there till I was thirteen, then my brother and I went to boarding school in Chang Mai in Thailand.
AJL: That’s fascinating! I was just having this conversation about identity with my kids who were born here but have strong British roots. Do you feel American?
AW: At this point yes, but when I was younger, no. I mean, my parents are American and that was the culture at home. I have more nostalgia towards India, when you are a kid you make really deep memories. Have you heard the term “third culture kid?” It’s where no culture is fully yours. What do I miss? The food, the smells, the holidays. The winter in Delhi would be really smoggy and mysterious looking. I haven’t been back in 10 years. It’s a big trip.
Frida, Angela’s dog, who appears in her work (image by AJ Lee)
AJL: So, how did you get from high school in Thailand to where you are today?
AW: After high school I went to a liberal arts college in the States. I started studying social work then switched to painting because I was jealous of everyone in the studio. As an artist, I am in between self taught and art school — it wasn’t a super rigorous training.
I always wanted to be an artist but I didn’t think it was a realistic thing to pursue. The only people I had seen that were artists were on the street doing caricatures, I didn’t know anyone who painted seriously for a profession. But painting was a compulsion, I couldn’t help myself.
After graduating I worked as an art director, graphic designer and eventually I was doing set design and some textile design on the side. The textile design was for a friend's company called Anona, they make really lovely hand painted designs. Since my second son was born last year I’ve been only painting and caring for him. I’ve been a part of group shows and sell work privately.
My husband and I were in LA for four years before we moved here. LA was just starting to seep into me when we left, I was starting to paint more landscapes which I’d never done. The color and the light were gorgeous. But I was working full time there so it was different — it takes a headspace to get into painting, so when you have 80% of your creative energy going towards work it has an impact on your output.
Angela raiding her drawer of textile designs (image by AJ Lee)
AJL: With such a varied path in so many environments, I imagine it must show up in your work. How do you think those different places have influenced you?
AW: I hope it has influenced my color. Color is what I’m about. It elicits an immediate emotional response. There’s not much cognitive thought about it. It’s intuition. I’m not that interested in getting too heady — I love art that gives more of a gut punch and color does that. I have a hard time painting without cadmium red light! I just love that color, I just think it’s so gorgeous.
I really love Botero’s color. And Philip Guston: he basically just painted with pink. I’ve always had a deep love of Indian miniature painting — the green red color story in a lot of Indian painting; forced perspective, amazing scale shifts, and contrast of flat space and detail.
Angela with her book on Indian miniature paintings (image by AJ Lee)
AJL: Your color choices are stunning. Plus, I am fascinated by how your pieces push the boundaries of realism in different ways — you often depict the person at the heart of the painting with distorted proportions. Tell me more about your relationship with reality.
AW: I’m trying to get at the reality of how things feel, not exactly how they look. There’s a self portrait I did soon after my son was born. In those first days after your baby is born you're breastfeeding constantly, your boobs feel huge, your body is still deflating… So the painting doesn’t reflect the reality of how I looked, but the reality of how that moment felt. After giving birth, I felt like a balloon. Your body is so strange to you: you’re not pregnant any more but your body is not your own.
My paintings are my personal narrative — I’m filtering my daily experience. I don’t think there needs to be a bigger theme. It’s about juggling life. Breastfeeding, trying to cut my nails, looking after my dog — all these needs are encircling me.
I am inspired by other painters that are romantics in attitude — Hockney, Picasso, Nathalie Du Pasquier, Matthew Wong, Louis Fratino — people who are attentive to beauty.
I think working from photographs is really hard because it makes me reflexively paint more realistically. I prefer to paint from my memory or imagination. The paintings have bits and bobs from observation but I’m not trying to replicate anything exactly. I like to see it look like paint. [Angela points at a place on a canvas where you can see the brush strokes]
Angela’s painting of tulips in her dining room (image by AJ Lee)
AJL: That juggle as an artist who is also a mother is very real. It has such a tangible impact on how you create. I’d love to hear more about your process.
AW: Yeah, it very much has changed me as a person and an artist. Becoming a mother really brought my paintings out of abstraction and into reality.
In practical terms, I paint while my baby naps and after the kids are in bed I’ll get a few more hours in. Sketching is the bedrock of my practice. It's a way to process in a stream of conscious way what I’m feeling, what I notice. I paint from sketches, but I don’t follow them precisely — I want to feel like I’m discovering something while I’m painting. This piece, for example, has changed a ton [Angela points to the painting of her in purple holding her baby with Frida at her feet] — this used to be a snake, there was a little scene in the top right; I keep moving through it.
Now that I have more time to paint I feel less scared — that’s the biggest breakthrough for me is to feel less fear, and to work from a space of curiosity. For the next few paintings I really want to paint bigger. With big ones it’s about keeping it really loose. Your body moves differently. I couldn’t stretch a big canvas when I was pregnant — now I can, it’s a move of bodily autonomy.
I paint with acrylic because I can’t be painting inside my home with oil fumes. For this phase of my life, it's a good medium because it dries so quickly — the tricky thing is if you do a gradient and your baby wakes up then you can’t finish it, it will be dry by the time you get back. But if you want to redo a color you just have to wait 5 minutes!
A self portrait by Angela (image by AJ Lee)
AJL: Before we wrap up, tell me about your move to this area. How does it feel to be an artist in the Hudson Valley?
AW: My husband suggested we move here during the very early days of the pandemic— he has really good intuition and it was totally the right move. The lack of stimulation has been amazing. I always felt in cities like I was guarding my energy. Here, with the quiet and the clean air, I can let that guard down, and be more porous and sensitive, which is huge artistically.
There are lots of inspiring creatives living here. Olaf Breuning is a neighbor. Michael Scoggins and Alex Gingrow are neighbors. Seeing working artists is hugely inspiring and they have all been really encouraging. When someone else is willing to give your work that time of day you think ‘maybe I’m not crazy with this impulse to paint, maybe I should stay up a few more hours.’
AJL: Thank you, Angela. It was such a pleasure to spend time with you, delve into your brain a little and see your work in process. You’re definitely not crazy. Please keep painting as late as you can manage.