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Abandoned, derelict and idiosyncratic buildings and structures form the main subject of my work. I see these paintings as portraits of places, where I try to capture not just how they look, but the atmosphere, emotional resonance and psychological weight they hold. I’m not really painting the buildings themselves so much as the feeling I have standing in front of them — the stillness, unease, curiosity and sense of presence they evoke.

 

Many of these places feel suspended in time, carrying traces of human experience long after the people themselves have gone. I’m drawn to their somewhat forlorn, enigmatic and often eerie presence, but also to the sense of intrigue and emotional familiarity they can hold. I think this partly comes from a fascination with exploring places that feel hidden, unfamiliar or just out of reach.

 

The paintings are less about documenting architecture and more about recreating an atmosphere or emotional experience. I try to translate the feeling of encountering these places into paint, allowing the work to function almost as a psychological space the viewer can step into. What has happened here, or is something about to happen? Should you keep walking, or look inside? I want to leave space for ambiguity, allowing viewers to bring their own interpretations and emotional associations to the work.

 

The unease, stillness and quiet tension I experience in these places is something I try to heighten through painting. Rather than inventing atmosphere, I’m amplifying what already exists. In that sense, the paintings become emotional portraits as much as depictions of physical structures.

 

The buildings themselves all exist and are places I have visited or feel connected to, though I may relocate them or alter their surroundings to heighten a particular mood or emotional response. The titles are deliberately matter-of-fact and void of geographical reference, keeping the focus on atmosphere rather than specific location.

 

After spending long periods painting these places, they begin to feel strangely familiar — almost like old friends. There’s something comforting in that, though also a sense of loss when they disappear. Several of the buildings I’ve painted no longer exist, adding a layer of fragility and quiet emptiness to the work.

© 2026 by Zoë Marsden

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