Helen Booth

How would you describe your work?

I’m an abstract painter - my work is an emotional response to what I see rather than a direct representation. Nature has always been an important part of my practice, and I spend a lot of time simply looking - observing light, form and rhythm. My initial drawings are often quite loose and figurative, but when I bring them back to the studio, they become something more poetic.

How did you approach painting ‘The Lighthouse’?

My process often starts outside, whether with a sketchbook in hand or simply collecting the most interesting things that I find on a walk. For Winter 26, I spent a day visiting lighthouses, particularly at Strombel Head, painting the beautiful white lighthouse that stands as a beacon on the Welsh coast.

I made initial drawings with charcoal and inks in my sketchbook and turned to the coast to look at seaweed, shells, stones and the waves. Watching the light scan the surface of the sea, I found myself working in sync with the waves. My pencil and ink moved with the same repetitive pulse, until the marks became dots, then dots became tiny balls of light. These tiny white dots became very important in the final works.

Back in my studio, I surround myself with drawings, collected objects, notes and sketches and I let them guide the work. I build up layers of oil paint, repeating marks across the paper - a line here, a dot there - building up and stripping back the surface over a period of weeks, creating this history of mark making. The final pieces are still rooted in what I observed - the lighthouse, the seaweed, the shell structures - but they exist in a more abstract, emotional space.

In what way are lighthouses special to you?

There’s something truly magical about the lighthouses in west Wales. These white beacons sit steadfast on the coast, bright against the greys, dark blues and greens of the sea in winter. The light skims across the water and leaves tiny white dots - a motif that has become important in my work.

The lighthouse offers punctuation in the stark landscape. I’ve come to think of myself as a lighthouse in a way, shining light on things that aren’t often seen, gathering inspiration and giving it life and light in a cyclical, rhythmic way.

There is always this strange in-between time when the sun sets and its warmth is replaced by the light of the lighthouse. This liminal space, this in-between, always guides my work. The light shifts from being life-giving to life-saving - that has always stayed with me.

How does nature and working with the seasons inspire and inform your work?

I feel that nature is my spiritual home. Being outside in the landscape is fundamental to my practice as an artist because I like to feel humbled by the scale of the landscape, particularly in Wales. It allows me to be more expressive and I often work outdoors on a larger scale, using gravity and paint to capture that same sense of freedom.

Nature is where I find solace, it’s where I find I can be myself and spend time thinking about bigger things. My paintings, I hope, inspire people to take time and to really focus on things that are important.

Where do you find your inspiration?

For Ffern’s Winter 26 scent, I’ve been walking the coastal path of Wales - visiting, drawing and taking inspiration from the landscape. I also feel that my studio is a little like a hermit’s cave, a place where I can be quiet and capture things of a more transcendental nature.

What is your favourite season?

Winter in Wales is spectacular because the light tends to soften everything and make everything quite two dimensional. I find that incredibly inspiring. As an artist I’m always drawn to winter light because it tends to flatten space. This means I have to create more depth within the work, otherwise it would just be flat greys and whites so I intentionally created quite a misty veiled surface to the work to give it more emotion and make it feel a bit more magical.