Kate Richardson is one of our most admired artists. She works in various styles from vibrant, cheerful landscape paintings, to abstract works with an ethereal quality. For Kate, painting is a mediation. Like breathing, she needs to paint to stay in equilibrium – to live and to give meaning, to tone down the noise in this socially tricky time.

I have been working with Kate since 2018. After the easing of the UK lockdown, she presented me with an impressive body of work of various styles, which I was keen to exhibit. With that in mind, we have created an exhibition entitled Arcadia. As part of the show, I wanted to learn more about Kate and her art, and share it with you.

What is your favourite part of the day?

Approx 4-7am. Like a lot of new mums, broken nights resulted in me getting into the habit of waking early. Annoyingly, even though my kids are now teenagers, I am still creeping around the house, trying not to disturb anyone at 4am. Sometimes I don't even notice it getting light. Other times I'll sit outside in the semi-dark and listen for the single bird heralding a full-on dawn chorus. I'll pass newly woken, sleepy kids coming down the stairs, as I climb them back to bed for a nap, in paint-splattered pyjamas.

Can you tell us about a typical day? Do you have any rituals?

I feel like I'm doing more admin, such as liaising with galleries/couriers/framers, ordering art supplies, PR/social media, bookwork and tax returns, than painting. So I tend to put aside early and late hours to just create. Consequently, I can neglect other areas of my life, such as any non-art-related chores. Redecorating my house during lockdown made me marvel, ashamedly, of how much I had neglected housework in the last decade!

My morning ritual is a 10-minute stretch, and I do like to do some physical activity every day, preferably in, on or near the sea. I, my son and my closest friend have discovered the joys of surfing this year, substituted with kayaking when it's flat, or just a swim/snorkel or run along the cliff path. I guess this could still be seen as 'work' as the aesthetics of these surroundings osmotically imprint on my psyche and influence my work (physically as well as metaphorically, perhaps, when I'm in the sea)

Evenings are taken with karate or tennis clubs – at least they were pre COVID (this makes me sound so active!), family/friends. Invariably though, back in the studio with a glass of whiskey.

Tell us when you decided to become an artist.

When I moved to Cornwall 19 years ago. Before that, like most people, I never considered myself 'good enough'.

Can you tell us more about your creative journey?

My creative journey started with my move to Cornwall 19 years ago - with its abundance of art galleries and general art scene. But more specifically, with my divorce. My very first paintings were on home-made canvasses from a large roll of linen I sourced from a car boot sale, stretched badly on old trellis wood. Catharsis came from painting dark stormy skies with little boats being tossed about in the waves. From there I switched (as life improved) to local seascapes and landscapes showing the iconic Cornish wind-swept tree which points to home at the end of my lane. This work was noticed by my local art gallery, and within a few years, I was represented nationally, at the London Affordable Art Fairs, and had several mixed and solo shows.

I was painting mainly landscapes until I took the plunge to be a full-time artist a couple of years ago. As I painted more, my work became more and more experimental and abstract. Still using oils, I enjoyed experimenting with different media to create high and low light, shine and texture. My palette reduced to black, white, the cyans, gold and burnt umber—the colours of the cliffs and sea and sky.

I wondered what would happen if I threw bronze powder across a canvas, added different colour patinas, swirls of glue, remove dry glue, add paint, add more glue and layer on some gold leaf, add paste, let it crackle, scrape off most of the dried paste, more oil, more metal powder, scrap some of it off, paint another patch white, let it drip, splatter it with water, white spirits then paint over most of it with off-white paint. More often than not, a seascape would emerge – even if that had not been my intention.

Now I try to free my mind to get into 'the zone' of painting intuitively. I'm fascinated by the shapes and textures that come and go during the life of an abstract piece. As if it is its own entity but with me, the creator, deciding when to freeze it into immortality.

A string of family bereavements made me drawn to painting angels.. which lead to a series of Bouguereau inspired religious scenes with a Dalek twist.

More recently I've been brave enough to add splashes and swirls of bright colour and collage to the sepia and cyan abstracts. A journey that I feel has only just begun.

You trained as an Occupational Therapist. Has your job influenced your art?

No, they felt quite separate. For years I was dividing my working week equally between OT and painting. OT used my left brain – lots of problem-solving and art is, of course, a right-brain activity. It did feel balanced.

You have a home studio, what do you love and dislike about working from home?

I love working from home, although ideally, I would have a separate studio near the house, so I didn't disturb anyone in the early hours. I do miss working alongside other artists, sharing ideas and collaborating. I'd like to give this a try sometime soon and always looking for opportunities – here and abroad.

You've produced a large body of work during lockdown – how important was it for you to create during this time?

I think it's important to regularly do an activity that takes you away from your own incessant thoughts. Painting, like surfing, is my meditation. This was especially important during the unsettling time in lockdown.

It was challenging to keep painting when there was no 'audience'. I'm sure most artists need feedback from their work being shown or sold, to be reassured and motivated to do more. Luckily, I posted on social media regularly and had an idea when I was on the right track from my audience there.

You include mixed media in your paintings. Could you tell us what mixed media you use and why?

Gold leaf, metal powders, different colour patinas, thick oil paint, glue, paste, crackle paste, pieces of cloth and collage. Initially, I found these great textures to mimic the textures and colours found on the coastline and in the sea. I look forward to adding to this list in the coming years. Always experimenting.

What is your favourite tool or material you like to use, and why?

Gold leaf is often present in my work, either as a base over the whole canvas. It gives a lovely 'folded' texture and can be revealed from under the paint in scratched lines or drips of white spirits. It goes a beautiful blue/green when used with verdigris patina. I also add it during painting to highlight areas, such as cliffs or rubbed onto the dried paint in the trees to create golden leaves.

I selected work from three of your collections, can you tell us more about these styles?

It has been a natural progression from representational to figurative to abstract art. Even though they are entirely different genres, people often remark that they recognise the work as being mine. I don't want to feel restricted to any one style and keen to find out what I'm drawn to next.

Do you work on all these styles at the same time?

Yes, I have several paintings on the go at the same time. The abstract layers often need to dry overnight or longer. It's not unusual for an abstract painting to take days, weeks or months to complete. The abstracts and angels require more intense concentration than the landscapes, so it's nice to mix them up, depending on my energy levels.

There is an ephemeral quality to your work. Can you tell us more about this

I build layers that accumulate texture while gathering elements and image. Some images dominate the space, while others recede like a whisper. Perhaps those whispers under the surface make the paintings seem ephemeral.

In your landscape art, trees often feature. Why is this? And what do trees mean to you?

I live in an area of Cornwall where the trees near the sea are bent by the prevailing wind. There is one just to the turning to my lane and it 'points to home' – always left to right on the canvas. The trees sometimes look forlorn, but to me, they signify dignity, strength, family and home. Often the trees are set in an idyllic paradise, which is how I see where I live.

Do you have a personal favourite place? Why is that?

It happens to be my studio! A south-facing conservatory overlooking my garden. It is my favourite place as I am always doing what I love in there. There is also a big table and chairs that I and my family use as a work surface—a sunny place of meditation and creation.

Do you listen to music when you work? If so, what music do you like?

Not very often. I sometimes listen to the radio or audiobooks but I mainly paint in silence. Music has never been very important to me, except when I'm running – then its dubstep all the way.

Where do you see your works going to next?

I am constantly seeking to 'push the boundaries' of my art. Compelled to be better. I'm ceaselessly striving for the perfect painting or that great idea.

What do you hope the future has in store for you?

I was blown away by Grayson Perry's ceramic work in his Pre-therapy Years exhibition in Bath. It has inspired me to learn ceramics and I'm already looking for a second-hand kiln. I'd also like to have the space to work on a series of large canvasses simultaneously. Sculpture. Installation. To keep learning and pushing those boundaries.