Meet Colleen Southwell, Artist and gardener

Photo- Colleen Southwell at Corner Store Gallery by Madeline Young

How would you describe your garden?

It’s very much a country garden, a young garden. We built the house 11 years ago, and the garden developed at different times and evolved from year to year, so I’d say it’s on average about five years old. At the front of the house, the garden is quite symmetrical, mirroring the form of the weatherboard house, with lots of clipped globes of buxus.

I really love those round forms of buxus, and I’ve repeated them in the back, where the garden opens out and looks over the valley. There are also lots of perennials and grasses there and I love the contrast of those soft, feathery, ethereal forms against the clipped forms.



The garden has really evolved through gifts of plants from family and friends, and those I've taken from other gardens we’ve made. So the garden is very much a storytelling place for us. I believe that’s important in a garden. When a garden is allowed to evolve in that way it tells the story of the people within it, it has a depth of character that goes beyond something purchased off the shelf. But consequently it’s a bit hotchpotch in spots and I’m constantly moving things around.

Photo- Kristy Noble

In what ways are your garden and your art part of the same creative impulse?

I think both are very much about paying attention to detail. When I was working as a landscape designer, I felt that we are so often looking at the big picture and the big impression, that the joy of really focussing on the detail - on the life in the garden, the insects, the changes in season - can be lost. For me it’s about finding beauty in all aspects of the garden and at different stages of the seasons - even in times when things are in decline or decay.

My artwork is a reflection of that too - of looking closely at the details, being still and pausing to appreciate what is in front of us. So there’s definitely a thread that goes through the way I work in the garden, and in the art too.

Photo- Kristy Noble

You’ve had a bit of a breakout time with your art recently, showing in Artisans in the Gardens at the Royal Botanic Gardens last spring and opening a solo show at a local gallery in Orange. How long were you working on your paper sculptures before you felt comfortable calling yourself an artist?

It’s still a word I struggle with in a way. I think a lot of creative people do. It almost seems pretentious to call yourself an artist. When I signed up for my first exhibition, I didn’t have a full body of work to show, I’d barely even shown my family my work. But I felt the time was right, and I took that leap.

Lots of gardeners have that same hesitation in calling themselves gardeners.

That is so true! Why do we find it so hard to call ourselves a gardener? Do we need proof of a green thumb, or some kind of external validation? Gardening is a lifelong learning process - you never know everything it’s so complex and detailed. But if you love it, and care for your plants, if you're engaged, then you’re a gardener. Gardening is really just about showing care. We all kill things, we all have disasters and successes, that’s part of the process. We need to take the pressure off those labels. Especially considering the future and the importance of people engaging with nature -we need more gardeners!

Photo- Colleen Southwell

Your artwork takes intense concentration. Is gardening a welcome break?

It is. My artwork requires that close attention and it’s immediately in front of me, so throughout my day I try to get up and go outside, even for just five minutes to quickly water a few vegies or deadhead a few roses. The garden and the property provide all the inspiration for my work, so it’s important to be in it. I feel really strongly that the garden is something that should be immersive and invite you in, not just be a place that you sit back and admire.

Photo- Madeline Young

Colleen’s next show is at The Shadow of Wings, Suki and Hugh Gallery, Bungendore NSW 21 March-26 April 2020.