JA: The title of your exhibition Synaesthesia elicits the father of abstraction Vassily Kandinsky and his purported ability to hear colours. However, you claim that you are inspired by the American Tonalists of the 1880s who “rearranged elements of the observed world in order to better convey musical and visual harmonies”. Does the fact that you are also a musician factor in the compositional choices of your paintings? 

AB: Synaesthesia is a neurological phenomenon/condition in which people experience one sense through another. For example, someone with synaesthesia might see colours when they hear sounds, or like Kandinsky, who had the ability to translate colours and shapes into sounds and harmonies. 

However, in poetry, synaesthesia is a literary device that uses cross-sensory imagery to create a more vivid and evocative experience for the reader. Synaesthetic metaphors are a common feature of poetry, and artists have been using it also in painting, where certain shapes, textures and colour palettes can evoke a synaesthetic perception. As the subtitle of my exhibition suggests, I hope that viewers will perceive the Scent of Beauty in my paintings – as a profound and intangible quality of nature’s beauty.

Yes, I can definitely see how my music and painting are intertwined. Thank you for noticing and pointing that out. I believe both are a window into my psyche and soul. I am aware that the minimalistic style of music which my husband and I create [duo called Tryst Arcane] evokes emotions and creates a sense of atmosphere. In the collection of 12 paintings called Found Tranquillity Series, rather unconsciously, I am ‘composing’ and expressing the same stylistics – minimal and atmospheric.

Similarly to the Tonalists’ approach, I am using a limited and warm colour palette with soft, diffused light which creates a sense of calm and peace, which I feel when I am walking through a naturalistic landscape. Inspired by this collection, my husband has, in fact, composed a beautiful piano piece which I think is a perfect example of how the visual qualities of a painting could be translated into musical terms. 

JA: Your paintings straddle the boundary between photography and painting. I feel that these landscapes are somehow also exercises in abstraction. Is that so? 

AB: As a matter of fact, The Found Tranquillity Series began as an exercise in abstraction. It soon evolved into something different and more personal. I found myself constantly adding new paintings, all with a similar mood, theme and characteristics. I paint these without using references, relying on my imagination to capture the feeling of tranquillity that I feel when I am in nature. This allows me to connect with my own memories and emotions in a very free way. 

When we look at a flower, we are not just looking at a beautiful object. We are also looking at a microcosm of the universe

In my 20s, I discovered a new passion: photography. I couldn’t paint at the time because of work and other commitments, but digital photography allowed me to explore and express my creative side in new and exciting ways. It was then that I believe I first developed an interest in the history of photography and the works of pictorialist photographers like Alfred Stieglitz, Julia Margaret Cameron and Edward Steichen; often characterised by their ethereal beauty, sense of mystery, evocative use of light and shadow and a subtle abstraction, all of which are elements that still greatly appeal to me.

JA: Any other artists that you find inspirational?

AB: I also have a strong admiration for many other fin-de-siècle artists, including Auguste Rodin, Franz von Stuck, Edward Burne-Jones, and Dante Gabriel Rossetti, who were all part of the Aesthetic Movement. I also love Gustave Doré, who bridged late Romanticism and early Symbolism. His illustrations for Dante’s ­Divine Comedy, which I encountered in high school, left a lasting impression on me and surely shaped my aesthetic preferences.

JA: Your paintings of flowers elicit comparisons with similarly themed work by Georgia O’Keeffe, besides the photographic work of Robert Mapplethorpe. O’Keeffe once said: ‘When you take a flower in your hand and really look at it, it’s your world for the moment. I want to give that world to someone else.’ Do you intend your floral-themed paintings to act in this way too? Is the microcosmic a reflection of the macrocosmic?

AB: My floral paintings in this exhibition are not necessarily meant to be a literal representation of a flower, but rather its essence – I seek to convey the beauty and wonder of flowers in my paintings, not simply their physical form.

I love to study my home-grown garden roses. I could photograph a rose at every stage of its life and still find it endlessly fascinating. In symbolic terms, I find the rose is complex and multifaceted, like femininity, sexuality and the passage of time.

When we look at a flower, we are not just looking at a beautiful object. We are also looking at a microcosm of the universe. So probably, yes, I do intend my floral-themed paintings to act in a similar way to O’Keeffe’s statement, which is an invitation to take the time to observe nature whenever we can. 

Synaesthesia – The Scent of Beauty [1], hosted at Senglea’s Art by the Seaside, is on until November 16. Consult the venue’s Facebook page for opening hours and more information.