A Q+A with Aida: Landscapes, Sustainability, and Growth

Aida Smith has long been known for their evocative still life paintings, but their latest collection signals a shift toward landscapes. Deeply personal works that capture the essence of two places they call home. 

With a strong commitment to sustainability and an intuitive approach to painting, Aida Smith shows us a little slice of her creative world. In this Q+A, we discuss the influence of place, the challenge of shifting styles, and the emotions that fuel their work.

Your landscapes are deeply personal, spanning your two homes of New Zealand and the United States. How do these places shape your artistic vision?

I grew up in the far northeastern United States, as far from New Zealand as you can get in the country. Now I live in Kaitoke, a rural area between Wellington and the Wairarapa, in the foothills of the Tararuas. My place of origin and my current home have so many similarities: stretches of rocky coast, long sandy beaches, and a deep-rooted rural heart. Even in their architecture, you can see the shared British colonial history.

I believe that when you live somewhere, that place becomes part of you. Even when you leave, it calls you back. When I paint landscapes, I’m interested in capturing the places that have shaped me. I paint from sketches and photos I’ve taken, and I’m just beginning to experiment with en plein air painting.

Sustainability is at the heart of your practice. Can you share more about how this influences your process?

I spent years trying to figure out how to make art in a way that felt both fulfilling and environmentally responsible. I initially learned with acrylics but was uncomfortable with their plastic base. I experimented with watercolor and gouache, which were lower-impact but lacked the texture I love. Since I work from a home studio, I hesitated to use oils, assuming they required solvents. However, after some deep research, I discovered solvent-free oil painting techniques, and I was completely hooked.

I use professional-quality artist oils (Langridge, Winsor & Newton Artists Oils) and start with a thin underpainting in a fast-drying pigment like burnt sienna. Then, I build up thicker layers of oil paint without thinning them with mediums.

I clean my brushes with a cotton rag, allowing it to dry until it’s stiff before disposal. Between sessions, my brushes stay wet in a jar of safflower oil, and I wash them about once a month with a non-solvent cleaner. I also choose linen as my canvas for its fine texture, durability, and lower environmental impact.

I don’t varnish my paintings, as it requires solvents. Instead, I embrace the slow curing process of oil paint, allowing it to breathe naturally. My studio has a faint linseed oil scent near my palette but is otherwise odor-free, a peaceful, safe space to create.

This collection marks a shift from still life to landscapes. What inspired this new direction?

While people may know me for my still life work, I’ve always painted both still life and landscapes. Last year, I focused on exhibiting still life paintings created from direct observation, but I constantly felt drawn to landscapes, they wanted to come out! I see my still life pieces as “tablescapes,” composed similarly to landscapes.

Landscapes present a unique challenge, which excites me as an artist. Many of these works are larger in scale and include architectural elements that once intimidated me. I don’t over-plan my subjects; rather, they reveal themselves to me. I’ve heard sculptors say the same, they uncover what the material wants to be. I follow that pull, allowing an image to emerge and persist until I paint it.

My work moves between loose and realistic styles. There’s a gravitational pull toward realism, and I spend significant energy resisting it to maintain a looseness in my brushwork. I call my style “imperfect realism,” influenced by artists like Lois Dodd, Rita Angus, and Fairfield Porter; painters who embraced representational art when abstraction dominated the art world.

You had two extremely successful shows last year and are a finalist in the Molly Morpeth Canaday Awards this year. How does that kind of recognition motivate or challenge you as an artist?

I’m incredibly honoured when someone brings one of my paintings into their home. I have pieces from other artists in my space, and I know the joy they bring me. There’s something special about original art something personal in the artist’s hand that connects us.

Being named a finalist in the MMCA was a surprise and a delight. It reinforces my commitment to painting from the heart.

When I’m in the studio, I’m not thinking about sales or recognition. I’m immersed in the process, considering techniques, compositions, or colour relationships. I think about the place I’m painting; how the air felt, what it smelled like, who I was with, and my emotions at that moment. My goal is to distill the depth of human experience; love, comfort, longing, into a two-dimensional space.

What do you hope viewers will feel or take away from your work in this exhibition?

I hope people connect with my work, whether through the place depicted or the emotions woven into the image.

Painting, for me, is a form of communication. If a piece isn’t gentle to the viewer, I don’t want to spend time creating it. We live in a world full of tragedy and stress. I’m intentional about making my work an antidote to that. My goal is to offer a moment of reflection, calm, and connection, something that can bring a quiet sense of joy into people’s lives.

Through this collection, Smith offers a deeply personal exploration of place, memory, and artistic evolution. Her commitment to sustainability and intuitive creative process results in work that is both thoughtful and resonant. Whether through the rugged coastlines of New Zealand or the familiar landscapes of her childhood, her paintings invite viewers to pause, connect, and find a sense of home within the art.

Opening Night: Thursday February 20, 5pm
Exhibition Duration: February 20 - March 8
Location: 182 Jervois Road, Herne Bay, Auckland