Artist conversations // Naomi Hill
Naomi Hill is an artist living in Nova Scotia on the east coast of Canada with her husband and two children. Naomi loves to paint, but gravitated towards photography after becoming a mother as she was in need of a creative practice that didn’t require much set up or clean up. I have admired Naomi’s work for a long time; her images are quiet, and evoke a moment of stillness that is both personal and timeless.
Can you tell me a bit about your journey with photography?
In the beginning, I took photos for artist and maker friends for their lookbooks. This was an ideal way to learn about storytelling using form and light. At some point, I realised I was trying to make each product photo into its own work of art to fulfil my own need to make. I began using objects from around the house to compose conceptual pieces and some of that work was published, encouraging me to continue in that direction.
Then, four years ago, a health issue flared up, affecting my mobility. Shooting for extended periods became impossible. This was hard, but provided time to further transition into fine art photography. During this period, I also realised how integral walking in nature is to my well-being. Although I'd photographed landscapes previously, the practice became a sort of prayer as I recovered. I'm grateful to be doing much better. Last year, a Nova Scotian gallery began representing my work.
How would you describe your work?
My pieces are quiet and contemplative. I try to leave enough space in the composition for the viewer to insert themselves.
Are there conversations you hope your work initiates?
I hope my landscape work brings people back to the sense of belonging that can be found in nature, anywhere we find it, regardless of our geographical origin. When we're in nature, we become aware of our place in something enormous and good. I want my work to be part of that inner expansion.
My still life and domestic documentary work is the outcome of making art as a mother, with the materials at hand, in the context of normal household chaos, but also in the context of how my own mind works. There's a conversation about art and motherhood in there, but I wouldn't want the work to be reduced to a metaphor for "Mom gets the crumbs to play with". It's not always easy or straightforward, but I enjoy caring for and being cared for by our family. And I enjoy the act of making art with the materials and remains of that care.
Why is photography important to you?
In documentary photography, a moment in time is broken into frames allowing us to see things we wouldn't otherwise. In the same way, fine art photography can reveal truths about our outer and inner environments we might know subconsciously, but have difficulty accessing. I appreciate how I'm regularly surprised by something the camera has captured outside of my own intention.
How does the process of making images interact with your daily life?
If I always have my camera nearby, I'm not able to stay fully present in my day (or keep any sort of schedule) so I try to be thoughtful about when and why I bring it out. I doubt I'll ever be entirely disciplined. Sometimes I set aside a certain day to work, but most of the time, my day is a mix of homeschooling with my daughter, photography, and laundry.
Do you have any creative rituals or routines that you live by?
I've recently begun working through Julia Cameron’s course The Artist's Way. She prescribes writing three pages of stream-of-conscious thought every morning to help our logical left-brain offload, making room for creative focus. I'm finding the routine of writing those morning pages so helpful. I knew I was waking up with a lot of my mind, but I had no idea how much those unexpressed thoughts were affecting my energy.
Are there any activities outside of your practice that help you to relax or re-energise?
Unless the weather is terrible, Zach and I walk through the field behind our house, or on the back roads. I love to read Canadian fiction and I’m inching my way back into oil painting. Wendell Berry's poetry has been comforting throughout the pandemic. This month I'll begin working towards accreditation to become a herbalist and hope to open a herbal apothecary shop one day.
What’s next for your practice?
I'm experimenting with representing how the natural world impacts our inner environment by bringing a blue string to landscapes and photographing its movement in the wind. I don't know if I'll ever feel finished with my domestic compositions because they evolve through each stage of life. A collaborative book project would be wonderful.
To see more of Naomi’s work, check out her website and Instagram.
