The idea that Black Roses only exist in the imagination is something so poetic and potent.
Ahead of Emily Moore’s first solo show at Ordovas Gallery in Mayfair, she sat down with writer Lauren Dei to discuss the new body of artwork presented and the creative thought process behind the pieces.
Think back to the last major art gallery you visited. You approach an exhibition; maybe pause to read the description panel at the door. After learning something about the artist’s work you move on to the show. But who wrote that description? And who provides the basis from which everything in that space is to be considered notable or valid? Who decides which artistic processes make the grade? Even in the creative world, attitudes about how to execute can be unquestionably rigid. It takes an artist with a vision undeterred by convention to coin their own terms in describing their artistic practice, and to carry those terms forward into visual themes that solidify their ideas.
Emily Moore does exactly that with Black Roses. A terminology is chosen by Emily when studying at the Royal College of Art, ‘Black Roses’ celebrates the Black woman in abstract works created using her signature ‘Wildness’ techniques that span a multitude of media and materials. Upon winning The Valerie Beston Artists’ Trust Award, 2020, this terminology has translated into her first solo show at Ordovas Gallery, Mayfair in 2021.
Black Roses, installation view at Ordovas, 2021
So what made you want to create your own language?
It’s a metaphor for how I see my position as a British Black women abstract artist of Caribbean descent, and what that position means to me. I came back to art a bit later in life, so I didn’t come back to mess around. If I’m going to say something it has to be something with historical standing. I want to have a conversation about beautiful black roses; we’re precious and we’ve always been here, so the language of the black rose should exist.
What contexts inform this work?
The show is a condensed version of the work I have made this past year. I was limited in terms of access to workshops, graduating from the Royal College of Art in the midst of the pandemic, and awarded studio space as part of my prize that, ironically, I couldn’t access due to lockdown. Not knowing if I would ever make it into the studio, or if I would even be here at the end of all this, drove me to make work with a lasting legacy work that would be a demarcation in my artist’s career. The Royal College Art had a great relationship with art dealer and collector Valerie Beston – she was someone who actively nurtured new artists, when she passed away in 2006 the prize began in her honour.
Unknown photographer, Francis Bacon and Valerie Beston at the opening of Bacon's Grand Palais exhibition, Paris, 1971 (detail) © The Estate of Francis Bacon.
To win a studio, a great show and a bursary, at a time when I was wondering what to do next, was an amazing opportunity. Showing my work in a space where neither black nor emerging artists get much visibility – a place that has exhibited Francis Bacon, Lucien Freud, Basquiat, Miro – at such an early stage in my career is very humbling in many ways. I want the work to speak volumes, and I hope I’ve done justice in crafting language for it.
How is that language communicated in your solo show?
The idea that black roses only exist in the imagination is something so poetic and potent. I introduce that concept in the form of ancient text; the first pieces you see in the show are 6 crochet tablets like hieroglyphics or ‘the writing on the wall’ – it looks like wording at a distance, but when you get closer it isn’t something you can read. The whole idea is about creating a new text, something seemingly familiar but unknown. Then there are 12 smaller images that chart the progression of this idea, like a timeline – 10 are the original drawings of flowers that this idea sprouted from, 2 are made using ink and yarn, and each one is almost a mini typeface, like it’s own font. The sculptural piece depicts roses growing from a bed of books, linking this new language to previous knowledge that has enabled this work to mature. The pieces all speak to each other.
Emily Moore, Dancing Black Roses, 2021
You give yourself a lot of freedom and permission to explore different materials.
Definitely. When I returned to studying I was using cushions, bits of paper, plastic bottles – someone came and asked me “why do you have a Ferrero Rocher wrapper in your work??” People comment that I’m always trying something new – that’s exactly what I’m here to do. So I decided to create my own term ‘Wildness’ to describe my natural, eclectic tendency to use any accessible materials I wish. Whether it’s found or intentional, I love making things work, love bridging the gaps between items and not being afraid to bring ‘unexpected’ materials into the studio. Coming from a Jamaican background, I see that makers’ spirit when I visit. Watching someone whittle a spare piece of logwood into a table and chairs within an afternoon just because it’s there to use – problem-solving, engineering, innovation, it’s just in me and it’s ancestral. You go back home and you see that. It’s a strength. It’s our strength.
Black Roses, installation view at Ordovas, 2021
“So I decided to create my own term ‘Wildness’ to describe my natural, eclectic tendency to use any accessible materials I wish. Whether it’s found or intentional, I love making things work, love bridging the gaps between items and not being afraid to bring ‘unexpected’ materials into the studio. ”
Have you grown personally as a result of making this collection?
When I saw the completed exhibition hanging on the gallery walls I said to myself: ‘Emily, you’re an artist.’ Imposter syndrome can make me wonder ‘Am I any good? Could this work sit next to Victoria Miro or Chris Ofili – all of these great artists that have come before me?’ Yes, it could. It’s a nice feeling to finally recognise myself in that respect and to claim it. Maybe I’m becoming more confident, a bit more bullish in standing my ground. Many voices have spoken into this work. Nothing is made in isolation, not even during the past 12 months – the connections and contacts matter as much as the materials at hand. My tribe of friends and supporters have nurtured and nourished me in many ways. I feel like this is my flourishing time, my blossoming time. And now it’s time to put this out into the world and let it bloom for everyone else.
Black Roses by Emily Moore is showing at Ordovas Gallery, 31st Aug until 4th Sept 2021
Portrait of Emily taken in Valrie Beston Studio by Isabelle Young
