Emma Sampil

Rachna Singh, Editor, The Wise Owl talks to Emma Sampil an artist who draws her inspiration from travel and from the very heart of the performing arts, revealing her passion for dance and music. Through a synthesis of unexpected colors, with strokes emphasized by a knife, she explores deliberately refined forms, material effects and the paradox of transparency. The brilliance of the colours illuminates her paintings, creating an allegory of nuances, a harmony of tones, a true imaginary journey. “Creation is a great source of satisfaction. I would like to find my own language in it,” says Emma.

 

Thank you Emma for taking time out to talk with The Wise Owl.

 

RS:  Your work beautifully channels the essence of dance and music—both forms rooted in movement and rhythm. How do these performing arts influence your artistic process? Do you find yourself painting in response to specific melodies or choreographies, and how does this affect your use of space, line, and color?

 

ES: My painting is totally intuitive, it is the very essence of my imagination, I paint to the rhythm of my feelings, but I don't necessarily need to have a starting point! My dancers are gentle visualisations that appear to me as if in a dream! I dream them so I paint them 

 

 

RS: You describe painting as a “perpetual spring,” a well of continuous renewal. In a world often overwhelmed by repetition or burnout, how do you keep this sense of freshness alive? What rituals, moments, or inner drives help you return to the canvas with renewed vision each time?

 

ES: I'm an extremely positive person and I think I simply live my work.

 

 

RS:  Your portrayals of women, particularly in works like ‘Confidences’ and ‘Awakenings’, are both powerful and tender—imbued with strength, introspection, and sensuality. What compels you to explore the feminine form so deeply, and how do you translate emotional depth and complexity into visual language?

 

ES: I think that women should have an important place, I represent them with grace, exuding a meditative aura. I like to make them wear silky clothes, to give them an often divine allure.

 

I have no personal demands, I'm lucky enough to be a woman, happy, fulfilled, surrounded and loved.

 

 

RS:  Your artistic vocabulary is richly layered with cultural elements drawn from your travels through Africa and Asia. Can you share a particularly transformative journey or encounter that left an indelible mark on your creative spirit? How do these global impressions find their way onto your canvas, beyond aesthetics—perhaps through feeling, memory, or metaphor?

 

ES: At the risk of surprising you, I don't travel or travel very little, I have a panic fear of flying. As I've often said, my journey is an imaginary one, and I'm lucky enough to be able to escape spiritually.

 

A meeting that was extremely important for me took place about ten years ago after reading a book entitled "The Nine Lessons of the Maasai Warrior" by Xavier Peron, which moved me deeply and led me to contact the author.

We were able to work together on an Oracle in which I illustrated all the cards.I also had the honour of meeting Maasai warriors who came to several of my exhibitions in France. 

 

 

RS:  Though painting is often seen as a solitary act, you describe it as a form of exchange—where giving is also receiving. How do you perceive this dialogue between artist and viewer? What emotions or reflections do you hope your audience experiences when they engage with your work?

 

ES: I'm firmly convinced that each piece of work is destined. The emotion it evokes is always impressive, I'm so touched by every adoption. This is exactly how I see art: the transmission is as important as the artist's work. At that point, the work will travel, continue its journey and, I hope, bring reflection, serenity and joy, and it can also be meditative.

 

 

 

RS:  Your technique—especially the use of a knife rather than a traditional brush—gives your work a striking texture and an almost sculptural quality. What drew you to this method, and how does it support the themes of paradox and transparency you so often explore?

 

ES: I've always worked with knives from the start, and I was immediately drawn to this tool. I didn't ask myself any questions, I feel at ease with it and I love it. Indeed, the serif and the texture it produces, creates a paradox that interests me with the transparency and finesse of the handling.

 

 

RS:  You’ve spoken of wanting to discover your own language through painting. Do you feel you’ve arrived at that language, or is it something constantly evolving? How do you recognize when a painting speaks in your “true” voice?

 

ES: I think that artists evolve throughout their lives. I'm an authentic, simple person who wants to bring well-being. I hope that my work conveys this simplicity, beyond the eye, I hope it touches the heart.

 

 

RS:. Your art seems to live in the tension between refinement and spontaneity, structure and imagination. How do you approach this balance—especially when working with vibrant, often unexpected color palettes and abstracted forms? Is this contrast something you consciously cultivate, or does it emerge organically during your creative process?

 

ES: This balance is mine, quite simply spontaneity characterises me and I'm lucky enough to have a lot of imagination. I often feel guided, my knife accompanies me and allows me to evolve over time.

 

 

Thank you Emma for taking time out talk with The Wise owl. We wish you the very best in all your creative endeavours.