Olivia Sterling, Sorry to use that word, 2024, Acrylic on canvas, 180 x 120 cm, 70 7/8 x 47 1/4 in
Born in Peterborough in 1996 and graduating from the RCA in 2020, Sterling has carved out a distinctive niche in using paint to address questions of blackness and whiteness in twenty-first-century Britain. Her paintings present scenes of colourful mayhem with a nostalgic twist and signature ‘slapstick’ style, combining joyous celebration with a subtle critique of racialised ways of seeing. Blending pointed references like this into her depiction of ordinary scenes and subjects, Sterling’s work reflects on how we are confronted by racialised discourse everywhere in the everyday. Even happy or anodyne spaces are encoded with structures of othering and difference; every object, every skin tone, is assigned its place in a drama that continues beyond the edges of the canvas.
Can you tell us a bit about yourself and your background as an artist?
I usually paint about race and womanhood (by extension whiteness and subjugation) but recently I have been painting more queer scenes. Although, in general my paintings are often laced with violence or sex but often this is veiled by cartoonish imagery.
Can you walk us through your creative process for this piece; from idea conception to completion?
Yes, this started as a drawing from the tailend of social distancing. It was the first summer of “normalcy” and dating became overtly public again. I remember feeling rejuvenated and also hysterical, dating became a blood-sport in reaction to the lack of physical intimacy we had just endured. This painting is a memory of this. At the time, I thought that there was nothing more thrilling than going on dates, getting extremely drunk and kissing in pubs, parks and open streets. Now, I wonder if I would have had half the relationships/situations I have been in, if alcohol hadn't given me courage or quelled my anxiety?
Additionally, blood and wine are very interchangeable in my painting. Bodily matter is often mistaken for edible objects forming parallels and therefore tethering consumption and objectification together. It is a happy memory, but what did it take to get there - do all interactions always have meaning, especially when you are drunk and if an action has a lasting effect, is it not like a wine stain, never to be fully erased?
The piece is titled ‘Sorry to use that word.’ Could you go into the significance of this phrase in regards to the scene depicted?
The title embodies the ’will-they-won’t-they’ breathlessness of encountering someone you like/find attractive. I think this is Dawn French on a podcast speaking about something rude, and she jokingly adds ‘sorry to use that word’ in a very English way; polite and bashful for displaying emotion. The phrase is downplaying whatever has just been said before. That word could have been “love” or “kiss” or “end”.
In this work, the two figures seem to be positioned under a tablecloth. Does this suggest that the encounter between them is some sort of secret? Could you go into why you have placed these figures literally ‘under the table?’
On a surface level, I thought hiding the figures’ faces felt very sweet, innocent and heightened the intimacy in the painting. Then, above this, the painting feels very gay-panic-esque through the distraction of picking up the wine bottle as a vehicle to start kissing. To use another queer buzzword the painting has ‘baby gay’ energy through modestly hiding under the table rather than having a public display. Alternatively, this choice grapples with the unease about queer public displays of affection; worrying about fetishising or unwanted attention and therefore to be forced under the table. I understand this could read as feeling shame towards queer love but as this painting was conceived when I was carelessly snogging in the heat of the summer, and so birthing it now feels more like a romantic secret between two people.
