Bangalow-based artist Hilary Herrmann explores the beauty and complexities of life through her enchanting paintings, which first mesmerise viewers and then draw them into deeper exploration, writes Adele Scaysbrook.

Ethereal. Fantastical. Spellbinding. While wandering through the Bangalow home and studio of artist Hilary Herrmann, I feel as though I have stepped into the very same enchanting world that her paintings inhabit. Eclectic artworks decorate the walls; finished canvases line the floors and sit on chairs; books of all kinds spill out of shelves; and paint-stained brushes, palette knives and tins cover the outdoor studio table, ready to be used. It’s as if, turning the corner, one of the whimsical characters Hilary paints might be floating through the lush garden or peacefully mixing paints on the verandah – and I would not be surprised.

With an utterly distinct visual style and an expansive imagination, Hilary uses her brush to build whimsical worlds that transport the viewer into a surreal reality and invite them to dream, play and reflect. I had the pleasure of asking Hilary about her art, creative process and influences as she worked on her latest piece.

How would you describe your artistic style and the meaning behind your work?

I paint narratives of spooky little white figures that float through the sky. I think they are emotional landscapes, where you can enter into the world and bring in your own stories. [My work] is very ephemeral and enigmatic, and I like that other people find their own story within it.

They’re about the everyday. It’s about hope, it’s about trust, and also about the menace that approach our worlds. A lot of my work is just about hope and kindness. We don’t know what’s around any corner, or who we will be, and what will happen to us.

It’s about whatever enters my world. If it’s music or poetry, birds in my bird bath, my dog, a bunch of flowers, reading, from the news… whatever I can appropriate from others, I will take. I think the intimacy of being at home, home life and domesticity is really important. Rituals and routines make us sane. So, it’s about the everyday and finding beauty in it to protect ourselves and feel safe.

Crowns seem to be a motif in your work. Can you explain the significance and symbolism behind this creative choice?

You don’t want to be dismissed as a human. We all need to be appreciated, and I think the gold crowns represent that we’ve all got something to offer and are all a bit special. The crowns represent that we all just need to be part of the world and allowed.

The idea has developed and they don’t feel dressed without a crown now. I think everyone needs a little crown to feel like they exist in the world. We shouldn’t be diminished – we should be part of the world.

Not the show pony, not the most important person in the room, just that people acknowledge us. Just to make us feel a wee bit important. 

Now, even when they don’t need one, I still put it on because they don’t feel dressed without it. 

Where do you find inspiration, and what influences you creatively? 

Everywhere. It’s walking along the road and seeing the colour of a leaf. Every day I walk on the beach, and the horizons remind me of Rothko. I admire that work. This morning the clouds looked like Turner’s paintings – absolutely beautiful. 

I look at art books every day. I am always flicking through and being inspired by so many other people in the world. I just find things that amuse me or disgust me and they become part of the story that I want to communicate to others and myself. 

I really like Clarice Beckett, Idris Murphy, Rembrandt, Cy Twombly, Chagall… there are hundreds of people I’m inspired by – a multitude of people. It’s lovely going into galleries, because I live regionally. When I go to Sydney and Melbourne or to Europe, you see what exists out there. Art is a communication. Either of beauty or of politics, story, or talent. It’s just communication. 

Take us into your creative process. 

There are some people that “grid up” and they’ve got an image of what they want to do from when they begin, and they’ve got the skills to do that. Whereas I don’t have those skills, so I’ve always got to find an aesthetic to make things work on a different level. 

I start with a feeling, a word, or an emotion. As soon as I make the first mark, I have faith in just responding to what happens. I think it’s about just reaching an aesthetic for me at the end. 

This painting that I’m working on now, I really like it at this point. It’s interesting. I don’t know where it’s going but I like the beginning of it…until I don’t! 

So it’s about risk for me. A lot of people don’t have that ability to take risks. You have to let go of stuff to make it work. 

I like the intelligence of paint. I really like that you spend time, and it’s communicating, and you’re working out all the time where it’s going, what to do with it, how to finish it, and when it’s finished. There are just a lot of conversations. 

What has your artistic journey been like? Have you always created art? 

I used to do a lot more cartoons and sort of funny little drawings. The skills had never been there technically, but it has always been something I’ve played with since I was in my 20s, I guess. 

I have always played – even when I worked and wasn’t producing work to put in galleries. I had textas, pencils, paints. But it wasn’t until I was probably 40, when my daughter was at school and I had more time, and I decided if I actually wanted to put my art into the world then I had to actually do it all the time. 

It’s a discipline. You have to do it. You can’t talk about it, you actually have to do it. Things develop because you make mistakes and you learn…hopefully. 

Find Hilary’s work at Ninbella (Bangalow), AK Bellinger Gallery (Inverell), Grainger Gallery (Fyshwick), and OTOMYS (Prahran). @hilaryherrmann