Suzanna Reynolds

My work delves into the depths of the subconscious, tapping into something transcendent that goes beyond the physical act of creation. I approach both drawing and painting with a sense of discovery, allowing the materials—whether charcoal or paint—to lead me toward unseen truths. The process is deeply intuitive, driven by a psychological exploration of the mind and emotions that surface through marks, textures, and forms. I never plan or control the outcome; instead, I engage in a kind of dialogue with the medium, allowing the work to emerge organically. This unpredictability keeps me grounded in the moment, while also pushing me to confront the unknown within myself.

The large, expressive gestural mark-making  in my charcoal work carry a rawness that feels both cathartic and immersive. I often feel as though I am channelling something beyond myself, as if the art is a conduit for deeper emotions. This idea of being a medium for forces beyond the conscious mind connects to the work of artists like Francis Bacon, whose paintings often evoke a visceral psychological intensity, or Louise Bourgeois , who explores themes of trauma memory and the unconscious,  suggesting  a hidden internal narrative within the chaos. Like them, I’m interested in the psychological undercurrents that drive human experience—things that are difficult to express with words but can be felt in the body of a drawing or a smear of paint.

The transcendental nature of my work also aligns with artists such as Jackson Pollock and Cy Twombly, whose approaches to mark-making emphasized the act of creation as a form of connection to the subconscious and beyond. Twombly’s gestural scribbles and raw, almost primal drawings resonate with my own interest in the expressive power of the first scrape of charcoal on paper. There’s a shared looseness, a trust in the process, where what initially appears to be chaos gradually reveals a deeper meaning—something both accidental and inevitable. Like Twombly, I explore the tension between control and surrender, allowing the work to come through me rather than forcing it.

My art is fundamentally about exploring what lies beneath the surface—emotionally, psychologically, and spiritually. The mess, the blur, and the layering of marks all serve to unearth something hidden, whether it’s a memory, a feeling, or an idea I couldn’t have consciously created. The act of rubbing, erasing, and reworking the surface becomes a metaphor for delving into the subconscious mind, uncovering what has been buried. This is especially true of my charcoal drawings, where the physicality of the medium, even after being fixed, still leaves traces on my hands—reminding me that the work is never fully complete or fully knowable.

Painting, which I’ve begun exploring more recently, offers a different kind of dialogue. While the process remains spontaneous, paint has a way of solidifying or “containing” the ideas in a way that drawing does not. It brings a new challenge and joy, though I still find myself drawn to the raw immediacy of charcoal, where the work feels like it’s happening in real-time, almost out of my control.

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​Having spent years as a social worker, I’ve witnessed the depths of human emotion and hardship, and those experiences inevitably find their way into my art. I feel a responsibility to express these unspoken emotions, giving voice to feelings and struggles that people may not be able to articulate themselves. 

I aim to create spaces where viewers can confront their own emotions and subconscious thoughts. The psychological and transcendental elements in my work often evoke powerful reactions, some finding it haunting or unsettling, others deeply moved. I am deeply interested in this dialogue between the artwork and the viewer, in how the images resonate with something inside them that is perhaps hidden or unspoken. Ultimately, my work is about embracing the unknown, the unseen, and the unexpressed—both within myself and within those who engage with it.

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In the words of Louise Bourgeois, “Art is a guarantee of sanity.” It is through my art that I continue to explore, understand, and give form to the complexities of the human mind and spirit.