Emily Pope
Emily Pope (b. 1993, Canada) is a painter living and working in Toronto, Canada. Her work explores the pairing of her body with symbolic elements and settings to amplify her experiences of womanhood. Pope's paintings aim to provide clarity and coherence to the intangible experiences of the human condition, presenting an inward life of daydreams on canvas. By centering herself as the figure in her art, Pope engages in a process of self-exploration and self-expression that creates a deeply personal body of work. Her work promotes introspection and reflection, with the paintings themselves serving as a means of connecting with the viewer.
Education/ Select Work Version:
Emily Pope, a Canadian artist and Bachelor of Environmental Design graduate from OCAD University in 2015, transitioned from her design and art direction practice to painting in 2022. Pope's work has been showcased globally, including exhibitions in the UK, Italy, Hong Kong, and Mexico. Her pieces have found homes in private collections worldwide and have been featured in various film and television productions. Currently represented by Sens Gallery in Hong Kong across Asia, Pope is set to present her inaugural solo show in late 2023. Recent exhibitions include “Foundations”, Sens Gallery, hosted by Artsy (2023), “The Night Show”, Dahlia SL Gallery, Mexico City (2023), “Flowers & Thorns” Eve Leibe Gallery, Turin, Italy (2023), “Eve Presents Number Three”, Eve Leibe Gallery, London, UK
Instagram: eeepope
Website: emilypope.ca
* This Interview is published in Issue 5
Hi Emily, tell us about your background. How and when did you first start to paint?
Hello! There was never a time in my life when I didn’t make art, but I had always seen painting as something I’d do in my spare time, having never attended formal art school or known much about the industry. I was working as an art director and graphic designer in the film business, taking time between projects to paint.
When the pandemic hit and the industry shut down, I was able to shift gears and pour all my attention into painting. I take pride in being a self-taught painter and emphasize the importance of turning inwards in my artistic practice.
How do you begin to work? What is your process like?
I need a clear mind. Some of what I consider my most effective work comes to me in a visual flash—usually during a movement class. I do a lot of yoga and Pilates to get out of my head and into my body, allowing ideas to flow.
After that, the process becomes methodical: I take photos, sketch, and create Photoshop composites. This helps me arrive at a clear direction before beginning the actual act of painting, which for me is meditative.
Can you explain the transition from environmental design and art direction to painting? How did this shift influence your artistic perspective and the themes you explore in your work?
I spent a lot of time fighting against myself—design felt like the practical route, and I so desperately wanted to do and be the “right” thing, to quietly fit in. I’ve reached a point in my life where I need to stand my ground and prioritize what feels right for me.
That lack of trust and internal dis-ease seeped into much of my recent work as I processed deep discomfort that had become second nature. But there are always lessons. I now view compositions as scenes—many of my pieces act as vignettes that, strung together, tell a bigger story. That’s why my individual works are often sparse: the full narrative lies in the body of work, not in one painting. Sometimes I think, in the future, when I look back at all my paintings, everything will make a little more sense.
Emily Pope's work is featured on the cover of Issue 5 of the Artsin Square magazine, and her interview is also published in this issue. Learn more
You mention that your work explores the pairing of your body with symbolic elements. Could you delve deeper into the symbolism in your paintings? How do you choose these elements, and what significance do they hold for you personally?
Through the physicality of my self-portraits, I try to convey the tension and uneasiness within my body. Selecting elements is a meticulous process—I’ve created a kind of toolkit of objects I return to. The motif of pearls, for example, reflects the transformative nature of trauma. Like how pearls form layer by layer around an irritant, they symbolize resilience and the beauty that emerges from pain. Gloves are another recurring element—they serve as a tool for self-revelation, allowing me to control the narrative and choose what to unveil. This is why I often paint myself from behind or above—it’s a dissociative viewpoint, like another version of myself is observing me. My self-portraits aren’t just representations; they’re part of a deliberate, symbolic journey.
Centering yourself in your art is described as a process of self-exploration and self-expression. How has this personal journey influenced your understanding of womanhood, and what challenges or revelations have you encountered?
While I can’t speak for all of womanhood, I believe specificity cultivates relatability. My aim is to express my truth—feelings and moments that may feel unique and isolating, but are in fact shared by many.
One of my biggest comforts is the idea of an invisible thread connecting women across time—women who have felt exactly as I have. There’s a shared loneliness and longing that feels universal. I recently discovered the work of Gertrude Abercrombie and felt instantly connected. Many of the symbols she used mirrored ones I’d used myself—before ever seeing her work. And I’m sure women a hundred years from now will do the same.
Describe a real-life situation that inspired you.
For me, inspiration doesn’t usually come from one isolated moment—it’s a gradual accumulation of emotion. That was the case with the piece Cost of Acceptance. The pivotal moment that clarified the painting’s message happened when I came across a Kafka quote, which I’ll leave you with:
“I was ashamed of myself when I realized life was a costume party, and I attended with my real face.”
