Rebecca Santry
- 18 hours ago
- 4 min read
Rebecca Santry grew up in the UK and now lives in Squamish, British Columbia. She started painting after moving there, because the landscape got under her skin. She works with acrylics on canvas and paper, keeping to a muted, earthy palette. Her current series is called Soft Fascination, after the way your mind goes calm when you are just looking at trees or water. Santry begins with photographs and small collages before moving to larger canvases. She walks her dogs every morning and says that is where most of the work starts.
Q: You're originally from the UK and now you're based in Squamish, BC. Tell us a bit about that journey and how painting came into the picture.
A: I grew up in the UK, and relocating to Squamish marked a profound shift, both personally and creatively. The scale of the landscape here; the mountains, the weather systems, the constant movement felt quite different, but what really drew me in was how accessible it all is. The network of trails makes it possible to move through and experience these environments in a really direct way, and I spent a lot of time exploring them through walking and running.
Painting grew out of wanting to hold onto that feeling, the impact of being immersed in those spaces. It wasn’t a sudden decision to become an artist, more a gradual leaning toward something that felt grounding and restorative. Over time, it’s become both a way of paying attention and a way of holding onto the feeling of being in nature.
Q: Your current series is called Soft Fascination. Where did that idea start for you?
A: Soft Fascination grew out of noticing how certain moments in nature hold your attention without demanding it; the flicker of light through trees, the rhythm of water, the quiet repetition of waves. Living here, those moments are constant, and I found myself drawn to that quieter, more restorative kind of engagement.
The work isn’t about depicting a specific place, but about holding onto the feeling of being gently absorbed by it. It’s a way of translating those in-between moments; subtle shifts in light, movement, and atmosphere that are easy to overlook but have such a long and lasting impression.
Q: Your palette is quite specific: soft whites, deep charcoals, raw umbers, and red iron oxide. Do you stick to that range, or does it change with each piece?
A: The palette tends to stay within that range, though it shifts slightly depending on what each piece asks for. I’m drawn to those tones because they feel grounded and elemental; there’s a quiet restraint that allows for subtlety and depth and reflects the natural environment around me.
Working within a limited palette also keeps the focus on composition, texture, and layering, which has always been central to my practice. That said, I’m not rigid with it; there are moments where something unexpected enters, but it usually still sits within that softer, more muted spectrum.
Q: You list collage as part of your practice alongside painting. How do the two relate for you?
A: Collage and painting are closely intertwined in my practice, particularly in how I build compositions. I often begin with photographs or sketches, then move into smaller collages; something more hands-on and tactile, where I can physically shift and work with individual elements.
These studies help inform the larger works on canvas, allowing me to explore composition, balance, and movement in a more immediate way. Using collage naturally introduces negative space, organically blocking out areas so others can become more prominent.
Q: You describe nature as both inspiration and therapy. Is that something that happens through painting, or do you need to be out there physically to feel it?
A: It’s both. Being physically in nature is where it begins; that’s where the sensory experience happens. Living here, that’s part of my daily rhythm. Painting is where I return to it, holding onto those experiences and working through them in a slower, more reflective way.
The studio becomes an extension of that experience. I’m not trying to recreate a place, but to reconnect with the feeling of being there. In that sense, painting offers a similar kind of pause; it becomes a space for reflection, and a way to stay connected to those moments that I experience earlier on.
Q: Is Soft Fascination still ongoing, or are you moving into something new?
A: It’s still ongoing, and I think it will always sit at the root of my work. It feels less like a fixed series and more like a way of seeing and moving through the world.
I return to that idea of soft fascination daily; often through small, repetitive rituals like walking the dogs each morning. Those moments of being outside, noticing light, weather, and subtle shifts in the landscape, continue to feed the work and give me something to hold onto. There are slight shifts emerging; a bit more tension or contrast, but it all still comes back to that same place of gentle attention and immersion.
