Elizabeth Rose Donovan
- May 15
- 4 min read
Elizabeth Rose Donovan is a London-based multimedia artist who works with video, photography, collage and poetry. She trained in fashion communication and fine art at Middlesex University and is mostly self-taught in film. She started out experimenting with fabric and clothing on her own body, moved into collage, then into dance, and from there into moving image. Creative writing came last, after a spring equinox ritual where she started doodling and words followed. Her film Fading Landscapes is a collaboration with four other women artists about what mass consumption is doing to the land.
Q: From fashion and fine art to films and digital collages. How did you get here?
A: I've always been intrigued by clothing as a form of self-expression. I guess I started out using myself as the canvas, experimenting with layerings of fabric on my body. Ever since I was little I always loved playing dress up, creating different characters and understanding the sense of freedom I had to play with that. I then started putting those fabrications onto paper creating collages, experimenting with different materials, building up layers.
Once I started dancing, that became a more physical expression and I became interested in movement and the way we can manipulate and adapt our bodies to different environments and responses.
I think the transition to moving image came quite naturally. I wanted to show the movement of things, bring things to life instead of sitting flat on a canvas. So I started to explore capturing objects in motion.
Q: Fading Landscapes brought together four other women artists. How did that collaboration come about?
A: Once I started creating a structure for this piece, I realised that disappearing landscapes are affecting the whole world and I didn't have enough content to show that on my own. I thought of my friend Maria Ines Afonso, living in Mexico capturing life underwater and how amazing it would be if she had some footage to add. I started to think of all the creative women I know; as a world we are a collective trying to live in harmony together, for the most part, why not make this into something bigger and invite other female artists who share the same beliefs.
As a woman not just in the industry but in life, joining forces is extremely powerful. We have had to overcome a lot in history and must always support one another. I think, for this project I really wanted to celebrate and showcase collective power and feminine energy.
Q: You wrote the poem for Fading Landscapes yourself. Creative writing has only recently entered your work. What opened that door?
A: I went to a spring equinox ritual at my local yoga community, Yoga in the Stars. One of the practices was to spend a set amount of time writing words to do with the equinox, whatever came into our minds. At first it was crickets in my head, so I started drawing an abstract doodle, which somehow invited words into my mind and onto the page. The less I worried about what I was going to write the more that came to me.
I enjoyed this exercise so much I went out and bought a journal so I could start noting down things that came to me. I started to use it as a mental health practice and through this I started to feel like I could use my words in an impactful way, building on visual narratives I create.
Q: Your 2020 film about the Russian oil spill used completely abstract visuals to talk about ecological destruction. Why abstract rather than documentary?
A: I wanted to create something that entices you in, something that is quite beautiful and calm to observe but can have fatal consequences; encouraging people to look beneath the surface. I started experimenting with different ways I could illustrate oil dispersing into water and filmed the effects. As it was during the pandemic I used objects around my home including reflections of light to mimic the movement of water and the colour of the contaminated water.
My intention was to create something that people could get lost in visually, be open to interpretation and maybe escape a little from what they were experiencing, but still bring home the truths of the disaster. The pandemic was a difficult time for a lot of people; I wanted to be impactful without bringing someone's energy down.
Q: Does your dance background come through when you're editing and working with footage?
A: Dance is a really personal experience that explores spatial awareness around the body and in an environment. It makes you feel something physically and emotionally. I want those viewing my work to feel those same connections, to make an impact, something that stays with you. It influences the types of shots I select and how I connect them together; there's a continuity there that almost reflects the movement of dance. I like frames that are intimate with the subject and ones that play with unusual angles.
As a former dancer I feel rhythm in a unique way which I think comes across in the fluidity of my edits. The motion is continuous, intertwining with music and sound design.
I've worked a lot with dancers, finding I naturally connect with them, which has been super helpful when directing. I can not only vocalise but physically demonstrate how something could be done.
Q: What projects are you working on right now?
A: I've been focusing a lot on editing with Wild Island Films post-house, working on some exciting projects. We recently had a film showing at the V&A Marie Antoinette exhibition, which I edited.
I'm currently working on a project with two female creatives in collaboration with Give Your Best, a counter fast fashion charity tackling clothing poverty, helping women celebrate their individuality through clothing donations. It's a project I'm really passionate about; it honours women's stories and is a cause supporting our planet. I see Fading Landscapes as an ongoing project, something I want to keep adding to; it's an issue I don't see changing. I'd love for it to grow into a collective, collaborating with more female artists around the world.
I love documenting the world around me through film and photography without a direct intention of what I want to do with it, but something always blossoms from it.
