Your Mind Matters – Svetlana Cameron, Art And Conflict

Follow your bliss, said mythologist, professor, and writer Joseph Campbell. If you follow your bliss, you put yourself on a kind of track that has been there all the while, waiting for you, and the life that you ought to be living wherever you are. If you are following your bliss, you are enjoying that refreshment, that life within all the time. He continued that one's bliss is a sacred space, a space for uninterrupted reflection and unrushed creative work. This is a place where you can simply experience and bring forth what you are and what you might be. It's a place of creative incubation. C.G. Jung called our creative potential our golden shadow. And that the brightest qualities that you admire in others is the disowned aspect of your unique potential. However, Freud said creativity is an attempt to resolve a conflict generated by unexpressed biological impulses, i.e., an unfulfilled desires, or a sublimation of socially unacceptable impulses. I'm Dr. Maria Kempinska, a psychodynamic psychotherapist And I know that creativity is a true expression, expression of the unique self. I don't believe it's just sublimation. We can sublimate some of our internal angst, our— or divert our creativity, but fundamentally it's an expression of our unique self. Today my guest is a successful, magnificent portraiture artist whose story encourages the concept of destiny. Please welcome Svetlana Cameron. And Svetlana, thank you so much for joining me today. Good morning, Maria. Thank you very much for inviting me. It's a real pleasure to be here today. So, your work— when I first saw your work not too long ago at the Creative Women's Forum, I was astounded, as I always am with somebody of your great talent. You know, you're— Thank you, thank you very much. You do focus your work into portraiture, but you have that amazing ability to capture every tone, every colour, every unique essence of a person and bring them to life. How do you do that? Ah, that's a good question. I've been painting people full-time for about 18 years, and I can I can definitely say this is my true passion in life. I've tried other subjects, uh, landscapes, still lives, uh, even a bit of abstract art and all kinds, but I always come back to painting people. And I think I, I'm fortunate to have found my true passion and, and, uh, dedicated myself to it. And I've been perfecting my technique and my skill for years and years, and you see the result. Yeah, the result is magnificent. Please tell everybody where they can find your work. You can go online to my personal website www.svetlanakameron.com and there you will see my full portfolio and all kinds of other information about me. And I regularly exhibit in London, which the information about it you can also find on my website and follow me on my social media. I'm very active on Instagram Instagram, and I'm also on Facebook, and I post updates because you really need to see art in the original in the exhibitions if possible, because it's not the same experience. No, and you do cover, you know, families and individuals, and from children to adults to, you know, sort of people of eminence, you know, sort of speakers of the House of Keys and so on. So it's quite a fantastic array of very prominent people that you have, and also you tackle their clothing. You know, if you look at the Canon Alja that you have, oil on canvas, it's just remarkable the detail that you actually go into. Yes, that's something that people notice immediately about my work, that I I love painting fabrics, textures and detail, embroidery, lace, all kinds of things. And I, yes, I painted quite an interesting range of clothes from ceremonial wear, you know, the very traditional speakers' robes that people wear in Parliament. And I've painted Catholic priests' vestments and ethnic costumes that my sitters quite often choose to wear, and all kinds of clothes. And it has become a characteristic feature of my work. I put a lot of effort, and it adds a narrative element because you look at a person and you either— it gives you immediate clues of who they are and what they do, about their status, about their nationality, or it triggers questions and becomes a conversation point, and you begin to wonder why they're wearing an outfit like that. What's the significance of it, and I do like that. Yeah, it is magnificent. And so who was the very first sitter, the person that you first chose to paint? Who was your first— what do you call them? Your— The sitter, yes, that's the correct word. I think it depends if you mean like my first ever portrait or my first ever commissioned portrait. Like everyone else, I started drawing and painting my family, my friends, people around me, my children, my friends' children, you know, initially to build up the skill using them as my practice subjects. And then I was brave enough at some point to put my work in an exhibition in a small gallery, you know, with— I had very modest expectations about it, and surprisingly I got 2 or 3 commission inquiries straight away from just exhibiting my first portrait, which was really encouraging. And my first clients were people who asked me to paint their children. I never planned to be a children's portrait painter, but it's one of the most frequent inquiry I receive, to paint somebody's child. It seems to be a popular thing generally, and in this country in particular. Yeah, that's quite nice though, to capture that child, a child, because children's features change so radically and so quickly. So I can see why that happens. And what medium did you use initially? Initially it was charcoal and paper, or dry media on paper like sanguine, sepia. They tended to be monochrome, and I also did some oil, oil painting. That was the initial two that I used, but later, a few Years later, I started searching for my unique style, so to speak, and the monochrome drawings did not satisfy me anymore. I wanted to add more colour to my work, my drawing work, I mean. And I remember I was visiting an exhibition in London. It was in the National Gallery, Renaissance drawings at the National Gallery, or maybe the Buckingham Palace the gallery, I can't remember. There was a beautiful exhibition on Renaissance art, and I came across three-color technique. And I also saw that in Italy when I went there to take a drawing and painting course. And, and, uh, that— those drawings were really intriguing because the artist used only three colors: black, red, and white chalk in those days, uh, and combined them and blended them and mixed them on toned paper. That paper was usually like creamy beige or yellow, and with just that combination of 3 colours, they could create a very convincing range of skin tones. Very limited palette, but the, the person suddenly looked alive, you know, by just adding a bit of red in the cheeks and the corners of the eyes and the ear. And I thought, oh, what a beautiful way to add life to a monochrome drawing, and I started experimenting with that. And it became what I'm actually known for today, this interpretation, modern interpretation of the Renaissance three-color technique. It became very, very popular. And if you look at my portfolio in the pastel drawing section, you will see that all the people I did in that technique, I used only three colors in their faces. Regardless of their complexion. Well, I actually use two shades of red, cool and warm, but there's still three colors: black, red, and white. But when people asked me to paint them in clothes of different colors, I thought, how do I overcome that problem? How do I add color? So I started adding pastel to clothes. So three colors in the skin and hair, pastel color, colorful colored pastel in the clothes, full range, and it created very interesting combination of muted, lifelike skin tones and very realistic clothes. And I, I, um, I did a lot of private commissions in that technique, and I always give people a choice, you know, when they commission. I said, what would you like, oil or pastel? And they have a look and they make a decision based on their personal preferences. And give me an idea of your studio. What does it look like? Where's the light? How many windows do you have? How many easels do you have? We started talking about that, and I'm always intrigued because it's almost like your alchemical, you know, sort of your experiment, your room, your laboratory. But it is such a wonderful space, so can you describe it? Yes, now I'm very fortunate I have a dedicated studio, which is actually a detached separate building in our garden, uh, and is very spacious and it has natural light and picture hanging system on the walls and everything. But it was— I, I, when I started, like every, every beginner artist, I didn't have a studio. I started from the corner of the living room, and then it was a spare little bedroom. And then as we moved to another property, I got a spare large room And also, as my career progressed and I started selling my art and earning from it, I felt like I needed dedicated space and I could afford more, more equipment and more space. And also, I needed a decent-looking place to bring my clients into. So that's also important for a portrait painter. And then I, I had a little studio in the garden in our previous house. We moved quite a lot, and it was like a— I called it my garden shed, but it was a little summer house, a bit too cold in winter and too hot in the summer. And, but I was so happy because it was a place where I could hide from family and focus on my art entirely. And the last house move was about 4 years ago to Sussex, where I'm based now. And we stumbled upon a property with the detached outbuilding, which was just meant for me, you know. I, and I spent most of my time in it. People need to make a big effort to extract me from my idea. So how many easels do you have? I have 3, 3 easels which also reflect my evolution as a painter, because first easel I bought, I had no idea what I was buying. I just bought something that could hold my picture in the vertical position. And when I started taking, uh, proper academic drawing and painting, uh, lessons, my, my tutor explained to me that for the type of work that I needed, my easel has to be perfectly upright. And the one I had was slightly leaning back, like a display easel. And he explained that when you work from life, having a sitter next to you and the— in front of you and the painting, you put them side by side and the surface on which you work has to be perfectly vertical, otherwise you're going to have distortions in perspective. Even the slightest lean causes it. Or even if you work from a photograph, still, you need to display your reference material and your work vertically side by side because— and also another reason, during the process I step back very often, like every few minutes I step back and look at my work from a distance, then I come forward to the easel, do my adjustments, more work, and then I step back again. And to review it from the distance, it also has to be vertically upright. So I never work on the flat surface, for example, in portraiture. It's not possible. Yeah. And how many portraits are you working on at the same time? Um, uh, more than I should really. Quite a few. Yeah, just to go back to the easels, and then I upgraded to— when I got my first large-scale commission, I think it was the Indian family that you can see. Oh yes. I had to buy a proper large— I think it's called master easel or something like that. It, it has a mechanism where you rotate the handle and the easel, the whole easel moves up and down. It's on wheels so you can wheel it around the studio. So I have that big grand easel now. I had to buy it because no other easel that I had could hold such a large painting. Yeah, and the paintings I work on, ideally I should have— I aim to have two on the go, an oil painting and a pastel, because when I paint in oils, I, I try to work primarily in daylight. I do have daylight simulating bulbs now which provide very good consistent light, but I didn't in the past, and, and I always timed my oil painting sessions with daylight because it's very important to see the slightest nuances. While pastel work, I could work at any time of day because, as I said, my color palette is very limited. And it was rather— instead of trying to produce accurate color, I reproduce color relationships between cool and warm. So it created an illusion of reality, but it didn't really match the colors of the person exactly. Partly, which is fine. It was part of the technique. Uh, I don't know if I'm being too technical. No, I love it. I love the fact that you're being technical. I have two on the go, but it doesn't always work like that. Sometimes I have more than two, and now I have like three or four, and I keep rotating them sometimes to allow the paint to dry. Uh, because I work in layers, I need to wait for the previous layer to be dry to apply fine detail to it. Or sometimes it just gets too much, you know, if a painting is complex and there's a lot of small detail and a lot of different compositional elements, and especially if I reach a moment when I just don't know how to proceed— sometimes it happens, you have to stop and give yourself a break from a painting— and so I turn it around and move it to the corner of my studio and forget about it for some time and switch my attention to another piece. And then when I go back to the, the one I put aside, I review it with a fresh eye and I realize that all the things that I worry about were not worth worrying about. It actually looks fine. Or the other way around, it looked good to me, but now after a 2-week break the proportions are slightly off, or I want to change the composition a little bit, or I just have renewed enthusiasm to bring it to the next level and to complete it. Yeah, I know many artists work like that. Do you know what, that's psychologically, that is a very useful tool. It's almost like when you have an intensity, a relationship with the work that you do, whether you're writing or whichever field you're in, or actually in life, it's always good to move away from that. And yes, it's not a distraction. It's almost as if you allowed that part of the, the work that's going on inside you, which is very alchemical, to allow that to keep going, to settle, to readjust itself while you focus on something else, uh, consciously. And unconsciously, the other work just has to settle, find space, uh, adjust your view of it, and then you can come back to it and make that, you know, pertinent adjustment. And the trouble is with a lot of people today, particularly, you know, whether I'm talking to young people or not, as in therapy or just advising them, they want to rush and finish everything. And what you were saying is so important, to stop, give it some space, allow that to exist. It almost breathes in its own way, and you can come back to it. Yes, you need a lot of patience when you do the type of work that I do, the realistic painting. And also, you know, I think that just the pace of modern life— everyone wants instant results, instant gratification, instant success, everything. You know, the younger generation, I see it in them. I don't know, it's the part of the modern culture. I was brought up with, you know, to be slower and more meticulous. Maybe it's part of my nature, both probably. The first thing that my tutor said to me when I came to learn, uh, the— to do the academic drawing course and learn how to paint portraits, he said the first thing you need to do is learn to slow down. I came to him saying— I brought my sample works and I said, look, this 'Portrait drawing, it took me 3 days, you know, I'm such a slow painter.' And he said, 'Okay, here you'll be working on one drawing for 2 or 3 weeks.' And I was like, 'What?' 'Yes,' he said, 'and on a painting you'll be working for several months. It's not unusual.' I'm like, 'Oh my God, I thought 3 days was too long.' So how long does it take for you to finish a painting now? It depends on the size and on the complexity. So if we're talking head and shoulders is one amount of work, if you're talking half-figure or full-length, a different amount of work. Add clothes with embroidery and different patterns, you know, you add weeks and weeks. So each pastel portrait probably takes on average 3-4 weeks, and an oil painting, depending on complexity, can take between 1 and 3 months. Sometimes, you know, the biggest, the big ones that you see in my catalog and on my website, like the Portrait of the General Master Gunner that I did for the Royal Regiment of Artillery, that was dominating my studio for about 7 or 8 months. I did take breaks from it because, as I described my process, I do need breaks from complex works. And I can't say exactly how much time I was working on it and how much time I was sitting and resting, but it was the focus of my— of about 6 months out of that year that I created it. Yeah, if anybody's listening at the moment, do take a second and go to Svetlana's website so that as she speaks you can imagine what she's talking about. Because as you say, those details— I can see why it takes 6 months. I'm surprised you do it quicker in any way. Thank you. And sometimes, um, the process can take longer, uh, because I, I interact with my sitters, and I reach a point when I need input from them, like an additional sitting or to add something to the composition, or, and, and then it depends on their schedule, you know. We need to book that meeting and, and find that object that we want to add to the painting. So it, uh, sometimes it, um, the process slows down because of that, but that's a very important part of my work, interacting with my sitters, and one of my favorite parts of my work because, you know, being an artist is a solitary, lonely occupation and a way of life. You're sitting in your studio on your own most of the time, and you, you, you create your work. You, you need to decide how to promote your work, how to navigate the art world, and when you're completely by yourself, it can be difficult. So One of the reasons I enjoy portrait painting, it brings a social interaction into my work, into my life. There's always a preparatory period. First we talk and negotiate and people decide if they want a portrait or not, and then when they say yes, we start the very interesting stage when we decide what kind of composition it will be, what they're going to wear, what colour scheme will they have, where it will hang. And we, we go through it together. And sometimes people invite me and show me the range of clothes. Sometimes they buy something specifically for the portrait, ask my opinion. And then we have the actual sittings and we try different ideas. Then I come up with the proposal how to resolve the composition. And then during the process we also have meetings and sittings, and at the end it's the delivery. Quite often there's an unveiling, either a big important unveiling or a very small and private one just for the family and close relatives and friends, like a little get-together. And then we stay in touch and invite them to my exhibitions, they invite me to their parties, and we continue this relationship. So it's It's a very enjoyable part of my life. There's so much to this, and this is why I'm delighted to be able to interview you here and discuss your world. And I know that it's never easy, it's never quite as simple as it looks. In fact, it doesn't look— to be honest, it doesn't look simple. We'll get to those difficult parts, but before we go into the, you know, struggles, and every creative has wrestles with their creativity. But tell me about your upbringing. Tell us about your parents, your background. My story is a little bit complicated. Yeah, for the last 18 years I've been living and working in the UK, and I'm now a British citizen. Originally, I'm Russian-born. I was born to Russian family, but my family actually half Russian, half Ukrainian, and I was I was born in the time when it was Soviet Union, all one country. And, um, so, but I, I come from the Russian half of our family, but I have a lot of Ukrainian cousins. And I was born in Ukraine. I, I grew up in Latvia, Slovakia, and Czech Republic. And then I went to secondary school and university in Russia. I worked for a couple of years in Moscow, and then I met my British husband with whom I've been together for nearly 20 years now. And we start— and then, then the second half of my life was in Britain or related to Britain. So we lived in Malta, we lived in 3 different places in the UK, and now we're permanently based in Sussex, south of London. And I go to London very often. So I paint in Sussex, but all my social and— or social life and meetings all happen in London. Which is a nice balance to have. Um, and I wanted to say something else. Ah, my first education in Russia was in modern languages. I studied English and German, and I specialized in the English language and culture. Isn't it amazing that I was like preparing myself for life in this country without knowing about it? Exactly. And that's why I said, you know, This is a wonderful story of destiny. It's almost a destiny that was inevitable that it was eventually going to reveal itself, and we'll get to that. So your parents, what did they do? Uh, my dad was an Air Force pilot. That's why we moved so much, and we lived all over the place because we— every 2, 3 years on average, we would, uh, he would be moved to another place. And my mum was a primary school teacher. And brothers and sisters, do you have— I have a brother. Lovely. And what does your brother do now? My brother, he promotes Russian technology abroad. So it's like he works in the foreign relations department, uh, into interacting with the world. He studied in the Physics Institute, but he decided to go not into physics but into the foreign relations. So that's his job now. And I don't— I know we discussed this before we started this interview. I really would like you to give your view on the terrible situation that we have. You are— part of your family is Ukrainian, part Russian. Yes, father was an Air Force pilot. It must be harrowing for you as from Russian descent. By the way, um, my mother was from Lviv. Lwów, which is now Lviv. That's western Ukraine, yeah. Yeah, and it— which is Ukraine. And when she tried to get her British passport, although she'd lived here for a number of years and fought with the British Army in North Africa and Monte Cassino against the Germans, she— they said, well, you can't be— we can't give you a passport. My father was from Poznań, he got a passport eventually, he was allowed to get citizenship, but they couldn't with my mother because she was part of the Russian system, and they didn't understand the territories well enough to understand that Poland had been separate from Ukraine but now was in Ukraine. So it's a very mixed, full of conflict area, but you are at the heart of that, but two sides of the family. How do you take that? How do you live with that yourself? What repercussions does that have for you? It's really heartbreaking. To see what's happening. And it was a big shock for me in February. As I said, my— half of my family are Russian, half Ukrainian, and I was visiting Ukraine every summer of my childhood. I was spending time with my Ukrainian grandparents and cousins. So I— for me, it's not just a country on the map, you know, I actually know what it looks like. I've been there. It's a big part of my childhood. And it's just unbelievable what's going on. And I've lived out of Russia for a very long time, and I think I probably lost touch a bit. I don't know how the country came to what it's— what's happening right now. It was a gradual process. And because I was here and visiting Russia once a year to see my family, I— it was a big shock for me. I knew it was heading that way, but I didn't know it would actually go that far. And I— the family are torn apart. So the, the Russian part is now brainwashed by the propaganda. The Ukrainian, you know, they have their own views. And I cannot go to Russia because I just don't feel safe. I made my views very clear and public back in February that I'm against the war. I condemned it. I cancelled the solo exhibition in Moscow. I closed the business in Russia. I was planning to launch a Russian-language art art course online with a Russian partner, and I just, uh, I'm just distanced myself from Russia. And we hosted Ukrainian refugees, um, here, which was also a difficult experience. I mean, emotionally difficult, because I, I get too involved with people and, and too much, and I was living through it with them. Uh, then I've left. They're in Switzerland. But, uh, that moment, I'm very happy I helped them, but it was hard. Of course it's hard, because people who are refugees. They've been— they run away from their own country for safety, and they are in severe trauma. They're distressed. And you being an empath, empathic— and I don't mean just a transient empath, it's such a wasteful word at the moment, it's being used carelessly at the moment— but really, for somebody like you who has family in Ukraine and Russia, your heart would have gone out to them to protect them, to help them, to give them safety and security, which I'm sure you did. But you've got to listen to them because that's what every refugee— and my parents being refugees, I know what that felt like— their story needs to be heard. Yes, sure, sure. And of course, you know, you must have lived that with them, and it must bring up your own feelings from your own culture, from your own heritage. I just, I just don't understand how Russian and Ukrainian people can point guns at each other. Because for me, it's like almost that the people are so interconnected. You take any family and they have either friends or relatives in both places. It, it's like a civil war. And that makes it even more heartbreaking because, you know, when, uh, when, when the enemy is very different and it came and attacked your country and you're defending it, you, you, you know what you're fighting for. But here people are confused, they don't understand what they're fighting for. Yeah. And a lot of Russian people don't want to fight, but they're forced, because if— when you're drafted, if you either go to war or you go to jail, you're not given any other choices. You can't opt out. No. Uh, so it's very— and that's why it is brutal, and it must be intensely stressful for you, because, you know, sort of— I know when I hear of the war you know, although my parents were Polish, from the Eastern European side of the world, it is— you still— your heart still belongs there. I'm first generation, but my parents both being Polish and I'm English here, but my children are half English, half Polish, I think. But, you know, for you, you're almost caught between the two struggling, conflicting elements that you don't really understand why there's a conflict. And to make sense of it is, is very disturbing. But I'm now really confused because, uh, I, I, I'm confused about identifying myself, who I am, you know, because my— all my grown-up life, um, was here in this country. So Britain is my home. When I land in British airport and I see Costa Coffee, W Smith, I feel I'm at home, you know. When I go to Russia and I land in the Russian airport, I feel like a tourist. Because I, I, I don't live there. I haven't lived there for 20 years, and the country has changed and moved on. And, and, uh, so I'm, I'm really now a bit confused. And, um, uh, you know, being a Russian is not easy these days. No. And I, I— because of the, the— it has an impact on all of us, of course, how other people perceive us, about how we feel about ourselves. I mean, Russians, you know, I know a lot of Russians who have nothing to do with the government and the war. They never voted for Putin. They don't even live in the country, but it has an effect on all of them, you know. Of course. However, I think you did say that you have been treated, as far as I know, well here. Very well, yes. Nobody ever expressed any hostility or any any kind of negative attitude to me because of my original nationality. In fact, people have been very supportive and kind, and I got a lot of messages asking how I am and how my family are. And in March, people were inviting me— my clients were inviting me for lunches just to show they cared and they're not dumping me because I'm Russian. Oh, that's wonderful to hear. And nobody canceled the commission. I received quite a few new commissions this year, and nobody cares that I'm, I'm from Russia originally, which is very reassuring because in February I thought, okay, that's the end of my life as I knew it. Nobody will shake hands with me anymore. It was that bad. Yeah. But now I'm a bit more relaxed, and I realized that people don't really— people can distinguish between, um, politics and individual Yeah, I must say Great Britain, being of Polish descent, I must say I'm very happy to be here as well. So moving on, you were in Russia, and I am a big fan of Russian culture— Dostoevsky, you know, Tolstoy, and you know, you've got such, you know, the Russian ballet, you've got such extraordinary creativity. Yeah, classic, everything, you name it, you've got it. And I must say, and every Russian, uh, heritage performer that I've interviewed aims to be the best. So you've got that mentality, let's become the best, which I love. And that really comes through in your work. So you left Russia, and tell us about your journey to where you end— how did you find out, and at what age did you find out you've got this incredible gift? I was As far as I remember myself as a child, I always had creative hobbies. I was drawing and painting, yes, but it didn't stand out enough to be noticed and focused on, you know, because I was also sewing and knitting and wood carving and playing the piano. So everybody knew I was a creative child, but because I didn't express an interest in becoming a creative person professionally and doing it for a living, you know, it didn't happen initially. My parents would have supported me, I know, but I had freedom to choose and I chose languages because that's what I was interested at the time as a profession, you know. But the creativity and interest in art was there and it just was waiting for the right situation to come to the surface. And because in my childhood I lived wherever my father was based, and all kinds of strange places, you know, I didn't grow up in Moscow with easy access to the National Gallery. I lived in small towns in Latvia and Slovakia and visiting Granny in Ukraine, so I never had exposure to visual art as as such. It was limited to poor quality reproductions in school books. So that, that whole area of life was missing from my childhood. And I first got exposure to art at the university when I— one of the subjects I was learning was art history. And also I was already in Moscow, so I started going to exhibitions. And when I became a professional translator and interpreter, I decided that business interpretation translation was too boring. I tried and it didn't work very well. I wanted to be surrounded by beautiful things and meet people. That was in my nature, you know, and there was a big demand in guides, interpreters in the museums and in the tourism industry in Moscow. So I became a qualified English-speaking guide in the National Galleries of Moscow. That was my job for about 2 years, and that was fantastic. I was— every day I was surrounded by masterpieces. I was— my job was to talk about art and art movements and art techniques, and I had very interesting, uh, people with who— the visitors to the gallery with whom I, uh, worked. And it triggered my interest in art. I thought, oh my God, what amazing world that I didn't know about! I want to be part of and I want to start learning how to draw and paint as a hobby. So I bought my first easel and my first box of paint. I was, I think I was about 22 years old at the time, and I started dabbling a little bit as a hobby. And I had, no, I need a tutor, I need somebody to actually show me how to do it. I felt that real urge to create But I was too busy. And then there was a period in my life— you see how it all, um, was leading to another. Exactly. In Moscow, I met my future husband, who was British, as I mentioned. Um, and then I left Russia. He was based in London, but, uh, very soon, uh, very, very soon after I left Russia, we moved to Malta for his work reasons and were there for 2 and a half years. And suddenly, after working 24/7 in Moscow and being really, really busy and fully booked for weeks in advance, I ended up being a bored housewife in a foreign country with no work permit, with no friends, no children at the time, and nothing, really, really nothing to do. And I, I thought, what can I fill my time with? And I decided to start drawing and painting seriously. I searched for art teachers. I found two. One was Maltese, and one, one, he, with him I tried a lot of experimental art and different techniques and materials. And the other tutor that I found moved to Malta. He graduated from the Florence Academy of Art and opened a private private studio and he was teaching the classical academic drawing and painting course following the curriculum of the Florence Academy. And that was exactly what I wanted because I searched for such a teacher in London and I couldn't at the time. It was 2003, I think. Now you can find such tuition in London, but at the time, no, it was very much more than not. And, and it was— I was so lucky I found that guy in Malta and And I was part of a small group of students and we started the proper course, copying old masters, working with plaster casts, working with live models, nude drawing, clothed figure, and all kinds of things. And he taught me the Renaissance technique. And he was the person who, after 2 months of lessons, said, "You are talented." you have what it is you need to have to become a really good realistic artist, because we're working in the realistic style. And he said, it's really up to you. You can, you know, it's there. If you persevere enough and if you dedicate yourself to it and push yourself enough, you can become a good artist. If not, you can just have it as a hobby, you know. And you did. How did that feel? How did that moment feel for you? I initially, I just laughed and said, sorry, I'm too old. I was 23 or 24 at the time, and I said, I already have a profession, I already have education, I already have a job which is temporarily on pause, and but when I, when we return to London, I'll probably get a job in my field. And I said, haha, you know, changing career at 'At this age, no, you probably need to draw from the age of 5 to be a good artist.' And he said, 'Not at all.' You know, maybe with musical instrument you do need to start early, but with painting, there are examples of people starting it in their midlife or even after they retire and, and produce beautiful works. You know, there's, there's no limit. And you did. He really inspired me. He planted seed, and the conditions were right. I did well, the feedback was encouraging. I got my first little commission in Malta from the people from— we're renting a property— they asked me to paint two portraits for them. Oh wow! And they said, we'll pay you. And I said, oh wow, that was amazing! I was like, no, no, I'm still learning. I'm very modest. I For a long time I wasn't sure of my abilities and my talent, and I thought people were just too kind to me. But, but it's a full-time career, and from 2005, so that's how many years, 17, 18 years, I've been doing it for a living full-time. I had no— but it's not always, as they say in the world, plain sailing. Oh no, you're in your studio and you deal with a lot of you know, there's internal struggles, that is that complication, that conflict, that, you know, the world— you can only as an artist reimagine in film or books, you know, a lot of creatives externalize that part of themselves in a book or a film or a piece of music, and you have to deal with your artist's block, your, you know, sort of doubting your own talent, and financial insecurity, aloneness, rejection, all these things that you have to at some point deal with. How do you cope with— say, how did you overcome doubting your own talent, for example? Um, yes, it's a very common problem, doubting your own talent, which is, um, very common for all the beginners and particularly for self-taught artists who, you know, just try by the start by themselves and they don't have the environment and the support group that probably the art college students have. So it's important to get feedback on your work, positive encouraging feedback from friends, family. It's good to join an artist group. For example, I joined an Art Society, which is like a mix of professional and amateur artists, and they did regular drawing sessions and painting sessions and annual exhibitions. And that was my first introduction into the art world, and I, I was receiving good comments about my works, and that was building my confidence up and up and up bit by bit. But my first major breakthrough and a big shift in my confidence happened when I was brave enough to send my artwork into competition, a proper professional national level art competition in London, uh, the Royal Society of Portrait Painters. At the time, I didn't know how difficult it was to get in it. If I knew, I wouldn't send my work, but I didn't. I just saw it on the call for entries online and I thought, oh yeah, I'll give it a go. And amazingly, my portrait drawing that I sent got accepted. It got exhibited in the Mall Galleries. It sold. It wasn't a commission piece, I offered it for sale. It sold, and I got a letter from the Royal Society of Portrait Painters, um, secretary or commission agent, I don't know, the person who is dealing with inquiries. And there was a list of 7 people who expressed first interest in having a portrait. Wow. And I thought, oh my God, but that was just the start. At the time I was living in the Isle of Man, um, just to add to my collection of places where I lived, as the Isle of Man. So, um, the Isle of Man is a small community, it's one of the Channel Islands in the Irish Sea, but it's an interesting place. It has its own parliament, its own, um, radio That's right, it has its own financial system as well. Completely different laws, again they mirror the UK laws, but it's a Crown dependency, it's semi-autonomous area. So for them to have a local resident artist to achieve such success in the national exhibition competition in London was big news, because they were a bit short of good news, you know, in a small community. So all the local press got interested in me, I had an article in the news, newspaper, I had an article in the lifestyle magazine, I got invited to do a radio interview, BBC Isle of Man wrote an article about me, and oh my God, and as a cherry on the cake, I had a call from the Isle of Man Parliament and said, Mrs. Cambron, would you be interested in painting portrait of the Speaker of our Parliament for the permanent public collection? I was like, oh my God. So that, uh, I know I was lucky, uh, that I had such a successful, uh, experience when I, I tried and I was so well received. I had a lot of rejections from competitions. Yeah, how did that feel? How do you cope with— the artists always deal with rejection and it's very personal, isn't it? Yes. How did you feel? How do you overcome that? And then how do you overcome being on your own? So how do you deal with rejection and aloneness? We'll start with rejection. Rejection is part of an artist's life. You go through it no matter at what stage of your career, no matter what your success story is and what your portfolio is like. And then, you know, you face rejection all the time when you, for example, submit work to a competition and gets rejected, or you are want to be signed up with a certain gallery and they say no, you know, we don't take new artists, or you don't suit us, or, or you put an artwork for sale and it doesn't sell and you think, oh my god, nobody likes my work, and it comes home after the exhibition. But being an experienced artist with nearly 20 years, 18 years full-time now, I, I know very well, and I say to other artists who are in the earlier stage of their careers, that you, you need to learn not to take it personally. If your art is rejected from the competition, it doesn't mean it's not good. It means that, I don't know, like, I was rejected from the BP Portrait Award multiple times, and I, because it's such a huge competition, they get 3,000 submissions and and they need to narrow it down to 55 to hang in the National Gallery. Imagine how many artists get rejected. I've— I had a case when I went through first round of selection from 3,200, and then I went through the second round of selection from 200 to, I don't know, about 100 paintings, and I didn't make it to the final 55. And that really hurt because I was that close, you know, to hanging in the National National Gallery. When I get rejected, the first stage is easy, I just move on and I forget about it the next day. But when you get this close to success, then it really hurts. But you know, you need to learn to get over it. And also, if an artwork doesn't sell, I got this advice from an art gallery manager at some point. She said, you know, So, for a buyer to sell your work, you need to have a person with the right taste, with the right budget, with the right occasion, with the right interior where they can hang that piece of art right now when they're standing in front of your painting in the gallery, you know. They may love it, but if those conditions don't, you know, the situation is not right for them, They either can't afford it or they don't know where to hang it or they can't justify such an expense or they just admire it but they don't feel like bringing it home. It doesn't mean the artwork is not good, it means it hasn't been in front of the right person at the right time and it's, you know, it will sell another time. And I've seen that many times. My artwork got rejected from one competition and it won first or second prize in another one, the same identical artwork. Just the criteria were different, the judges were different, and it's a matter of luck. And how is it when you're alone and that happens to you? What do you think about in that moment when you're in your studio, you're working on other competitions, or you're working on other people's work, which is— if when people look at your work, it's very warm, you always find the warmth in people's faces, the gentleness, there's a tenderness there. How is it that you feel? Do you feel alone because you have the weight of responsibility on your shoulders to get the work correct, to represent them correctly? What is it that captures you in that moment of aloneness? What's the hardest feeling? You mean when I work by myself in my studio? When you are alone, yeah. To be honest, Most of the time I do need to be alone and to deeply focus, to reach that level of focus and concentration that's required for my work. And it's good to have a dedicated space and shut the door and keep the children away, and it's fine. And I think a lot of artists are like that, but the downside of of being an artist is that you, unless you make an effort, you can be alone for too long, too much, more than you should, you know. You need to make a conscious effort to get out of the studio and meet people because you don't go to work, you don't meet colleagues, you're not forced to interact with people. And especially now that my children are teenagers, I no longer stand in the school gate. I no longer go to kids' parties, you know. I don't even know the parents in their classes anymore, uh, and I feel like, you know, I, I, I do need to, um, um, go out and attend social events and accept invitations, and, and, uh, otherwise it can become too much. You begin to feel, uh, isolated, and it's not healthy. And do you feel it? Do you feel the pressure of getting it right, getting the portrait done correctly? Is it a burden? Is it a weight? It's always a challenge. Yeah. When I was starting, I thought if I paint portraits for 10 years, it'll be like a piece of cake, you know, I'll be churning out portraits like a factory. And it's not true. Every— still, after so many years of experience, every time I need to get an accurate likeness likeness, and more than just a likeness, the emotion and the correct expression. It's a struggle and it takes time, and it feels like, you know, it doesn't get easier with time. Yes, that's the very intense and rather stressful part of being a portrait painter, to having to get it right. And I know a lot of artists do not accept commissions because they don't have the confidence that they and get it exactly right, so you need to be sure of your ability and your technique. And is it emotionally exhausting, that part of your work too? Because you are interacting with that person, aren't you? They have so much expectation there from you, for you, with you, that they hope that you will make them look something that resembles a part of them that they're proud of themselves. Yes, there is a lot of pressure, but to make it safer for all of us, to make sure that our expectations of the artwork are the same, I have my own method. When I meet with people for sittings We always start from life. We set up the pose and the lighting and the composition, everything, like, as if I were going to paint them entirely from life. But then I take lots and lots of photos which allow me to freeze the moment. And when I look at those photos, I choose the expression and the gesture and the movement that I feel will translate very well into a painting. And then I show those things to my client and ask for their approval. So we know from the start what the facial expression, for example, look like. I have it captured in the— in that particular still image. Then I can do fabrics and clothes from life. You know, I have a tailor's dummy in my studio. Quite often I borrow the garments and put them on that dummy and do all the outfits from life. And props. But that expression of the face is frozen in that image, and I make sure I carry it through because this is something that's difficult to hold, you know, it's a very transient moment. And I found a way how to— oh, you found your— make sure that people know what the face will look like and I can recreate it. Oh, wonderful. And when— how do you deal— because this has to be almost the last question because we're running out of time— And there's so much to talk to you about, but I'm afraid we are sort of hampered by time. But how do you deal with those moments that you say, 'I've had enough, how do I do this?' That what they call the creative block. Oh, the creative block. You know, for many years I thought the creative artist block was a myth that people invented to justify their procrastination, or I don't know, laziness. But it is a real thing. And I did come across it, you know, sooner or later. It was meant to happen. And it's, it's a very strange thing. I know some artists, when they reach artist's block, they just don't feel like painting. In my case, it was different. I still went to my studio every day. I still was full of intention and desire to paint, but I couldn't achieve the result that I wanted. It was either because I couldn't make the creative decision and I I was kept changing the composition and painting, repainting, and shifting elements. It was like I was trapped in that and I still couldn't find a solution. Or the, the quality of what I produced didn't match my expectation and I didn't know how to improve it, and I tossed my pictures in the bin and started over. And, you know, it was— and then of course it affects the schedule and you don't deliver on time, and it has a knock-on effect on the following projects that are in the waiting line. It is quite stressful. So when I feel that a moment like that is approaching, I find that I should— I had a moment like that, I think it was just before the pandemic, I got a bit overwhelmed. So I find what helps me is to take a break and go and visit a museum, you know, just, just the National Gallery in London or the Tate Britain or something like that. Or if I'm lucky enough to go for a little break further away somewhere, just, just to take a break from my studio and not to paint for a few days. That, that always helps. And seeing other paintings, especially the original paintings in museums, always helped because it gives me fresh ideas fresh perspective, or it reassures me that actually my painting is not bad at all. It's just in my mind I was expecting something, I put the bar so high I couldn't reach it, but actually it's fine, you know. Or I got some new ideas from the artwork that I see. And there was one case when I took a break from painting and did completely different things. Uh, I, uh, there was one case when I changed the genre and ventured into still lives for some time. That also helped when I came back from portraiture. It was very— I feel I felt very refreshed. And at some point, at one point, I stopped painting completely and I signed up with different online courses and I started learning things unrelated to art. It was a course how to run Instagram for business. It was course how to do public speaking and feel confident on camera. You know, all the things that are very useful for my career and for me as a person, they developed me in other areas of my life, but they were not directly related to painting. And it was very good. I came back, and I came back a different person, and I had all the new skills that I learned. Oh, Svetlana Cameron, this has been such a joy talking to you about your world, how you perceive the world, your internal representation of what you see. So if anybody— and I'm sure everybody listening will want to go to your site, it's www.svetlanacameron.com— thank you so much for joining me. I am Dr. Maria Kempinska. You can find me on www.mariakempinska.com. And please look at Svetlana's work, it is sensational. And if you want a portrait, you know where to go. Her work is tender