Representational art, like music with lyrics, carries a finite range of meaning. Abstract art, however, resembles music without words, and its interpretation can change over time, evolving with the viewer’s state of mind. Sasha Shalmina’s work centres on painting the unseen: the shifting landscapes of emotions, memories, moods, thoughts, and atmospheres. Her practice prioritises feeling over representation, creating spaces where viewers can project their own inner worlds. Each painting begins with a powerful emotion sparked by a dream, a memory, a piece of music, or a realisation reached through meditation. She allows the experience to take hold and guide the early stages, working intuitively as the image emerges from her subconscious. Once the emotional intensity settles, she returns to the canvas with clarity and intention, refining the work through a more rational lens.

See Sasha’s work as part of our annual winter open call exhibition, TRACES, showcasing works inspired by the marks that we leave in our wake: footprints in the snow, the enduring warmth of an embrace, the hollow left in the seat of your favourite armchair.

Hi Sahsha! Can you tell us how you arrived at the theme of your work?
I started out with figurative art. As a child, I was endlessly fascinated by the human form, with faces in particular and even dreamt of being a street portrait artist. In 2016, I moved into abstraction  after seeing my father’s abstract paintings. He was classically trained but spent over twenty years fully focused on his architectural career and hadn’t painted in a long time. When he returned to painting, he switched to non-representational work and his new canvases completely captivated me. As a result, I found myself shifting entirely into abstraction too.

What interests me most is the challenge of painting what you can’t see – a feeling, a memory, a mood, the essence of something rather than its appearance. And I love the openness of abstraction. It isn’t fixed; people bring their own associations to it, and their interpretations can change with time or mood. That fluidity is what made me fall in love with abstract art. It’s very much like the music I like to listen to, I tend to listen to things without lyrics for that very same reason. Lyrics, no matter how cleverly written, can only have a finite amount of interpretation and to me, this creates an almost unwanted limitation.

How do you typically approach your creative process from initial inspiration to the completion of your artwork?
My work always begins with a strong emotion – it might come from a memory, a dream, a person, or even a moment of clarity during meditation. That emotion usually dictates the colour palette, because colour carries the highest emotional charge for me. Once the colours are chosen, I work quickly and intuitively to find the rhythm and structure of the piece. Then I come back to it the next day with a clearer, more rational mind, to resolve it.

Are there specific advantages or challenges associated with working in your chosen mediums? Have you experimented with other mediums or techniques?
I love working in both digital and traditional media because they offer completely different challenges, and moving between them keeps things fresh. Digital work allows for precision with form, where as colour is more complex – what’s on the screen doesn’t always match what comes out of the printer – so there’s a lot of tweaking and calibration. With traditional media like oils or acrylics, colour comes more naturally to me but achieving the kind of shape that I’m looking for takes longer. I also love the physicality of painting – the brushes, the paint, the surface – there’s a connection there that digital tools can’t fully replicate.

How do you know when a piece is complete?
I hang it on the wall and live with it for at least a week, checking in every day to see whether anything still bothers me. Most of the big changes happen in that period. When I can look at the piece without wanting to alter it, I know it’s finished. I do revisit works months later and occasionally I’ll make a small adjustment if something still calls for it.

Will your next project be a continuation of your current style, or are you experimenting with something different?
My next body of work explores what I call the architecture of time – how moments can be stretched, layered, or slowed down through colour and form. I think of each piece as a kind of spatial structure, balancing movement and pause. It’s a natural continuation of my interest in emotional atmospheres, but from a slightly new angle. I already have a couple of pieces started and sketches for more.

Are there any upcoming events or additional information you would like the audience to know?
The new body of work I mentioned is being developed for my next solo show in 2027, with the location still to be announced. In the meantime, I’m looking forward to showing two pieces in the Scottish Society of Artists exhibition at the RSA this January.

Connect with Sasha over on Instagram or on her website, and see her work in TRACES running at SFG until January 6th 2026.