Özlem Sorlu Thompson
- Anna Lilli Garai
- Apr 26
- 3 min read
Özlem Sorlu Thompson paints in Mondrian’s former studio, but her vision is all her own. With roots in botany and a love for literature and film, her work moves between observation and invention. Each painting grows slowly—anchored in feeling, shaped by memory, and always open to surprise. Her forms often begin with something small, like a shift of light or a shape in nature, then drift into imag-ined spaces. There’s a quiet charge in how she balances clarity with mystery, letting each piece find its own rhythm.
Q: You paint in a house where Mondrian and Nicholson once worked. Does that history ever sneak into what you do?
A: Absolutely. I paint in the flat where Piet Mondrian had his studio in London, and that history is something I deeply feel. When I look out of the window of my home studio, I often think that these masters of modern art once saw the world from this same perspective. Even though the times are completely different, energy doesn’t change.
I often remind myself that nothing is impossible when I think of them.
Their presence gives me the courage to be bolder — especially their revolutionary use of colour and form.
There’s a sense of visionary energy in the air that definitely sneaks into my process.
Q: You studied biology and botany. How do those ways of seeing show up when you paint?
A: My background in biology and botany has expanded my imagination enormously. I spent eight years in the academic world, and my thesis on exotic plants and their use in industrial design led me to study over 350 species. That deep dive made me aware of the vast diversity in nature. I’m drawn to the intricate details of how things grow, transform, and repeat.
I use that lens to abstract and reimagine the world around me.
Often, I’m not painting a specific flower or landscape, but rather the idea or energy of it — filtered through what I know and feel about living systems.
Q: You mix real places with imagined ones. What usually sparks the start of a scene?
A: Often, it begins with a feeling or a tiny detail I notice — maybe the colour of light on a leaf, or a place I’ve recently visited.
My imagination starts working almost immediately, and I allow the forms and colours to emerge without much planning. I love that moment where the real and imagined blur, creating spaces that feel both familiar and entirely new. Painting feels like solving a puzzle of my subconscious.
During the process, I make a series of decisions, and the final image often ends up far from where it began.
Q: Nature, film, literature — what ties them together for you in the studio?
A: I love cinema — I’m a big Bergman fan. Wild Strawberries is my all-time favourite film. These different forms — nature, film, literature — they all feed me in unique ways. In the studio, I often paint while listening to audiobooks or classical music. Stories and sound help me fall into an intuitive state where colour and shape begin to speak their own language. Dostoyevsky, for example, has definitely influenced some of my work. My series Reflections of Existence began as a response to his exploration of existentialism.
Q: Your work feels joyful, even when it’s quiet. How much does feeling guide the process?
A: I think it’s because my inner self has a joyful energy, and it naturally reflects in my work.
The act of painting brings me joy, and I believe that feeling gets embedded in each piece.
Even when a painting is more introspective or quiet, it still carries an emotional charge that comes from the process itself. Also, I don’t like work that gives just one emotion — I want to create complexity. I often use darker palettes to bring light and dark together, because without darkness, there wouldn’t be light. They complete each other — like yin and yang.
Q: What keeps you curious when something in a painting won’t fall into place?
A: Curiosity is what keeps me fascinated. As I said, painting is like solving a mathematical problem or a puzzle. I don’t get discouraged — I get more intrigued. I shift my perspective, explore creative solutions, and let go of control. Some of the most exciting breakthroughs come from those tricky spots. I’ve learned that the difficult moments often lead to places I hadn’t yet imagined.
