Rebecca Hossack Art Gallery

Emma Haworth's art is built upon observation. With meticulous attention she observes the ebb and flow of modern metropolitan life - in the streets, the parks, the squares of London and New York: it is a constantly shifting drama, of moving people and changing light, played out in a great architectural arena.

Haworth disciplines her vision of this teeming stage through long study as well as through sketching and photography. The scene before her is one of extraordinary complexity, a complexity that she readily embraces. Haworth is somehow able to distil both the telling, individual detail - the plastic bag caught in the branches of a winter tree, the Hyde Park sunbather's slim-line briefcase - and a vital sense of the whole panorama - the quality of light falling through London plane trees or bouncing off New York skyscrapers, the sense of movement in a crowd, the sense of pleasure on a Bank Holiday.

Her chosen scenes are ones where every passing moment, every new viewpoint, offers a fresh combination of people, animals, buildings, cars, light, colours, and trees. People move - on foot, on roller-skates, on bikes; daylight turns to nightfall; winter turns to spring, summer drifts into autumn. And Haworth's paintings celebrate these changes, sometimes fixing the moment, sometimes recording the change.

Eugenia Vronskaya on the other hand describes her work - 'When I begin to paint I never know where I am going to arrive. I think of the process as a two-way dialogue between me - what I put on the canvas - and what it tells me back. Sometimes it remains silent and closed for a long time. Sometimes things happen very fast.

The process is triggered by many different things: sounds, music, past and present, visual and life experiences, emotions, memories, just about everything. And what you see is the end result of all these elements mixed up in a strange alchemist’s way, with me as one of the components.

Painting is my manifestation of being in this world, learning, relating, experiencing, understanding, remembering, reflecting. It is about every day. It is the attempt to reconcile the grand and the ordinary, the things and feelings that might be uncomfortable or not quite harmonious, the things that don’t fit perfectly together in the aesthetic or emotional sense.

In my paintings I use the objects around me from my every day life: the kitchen table, the washing-up in the sink, some glass jars. But it is not about still life. The glass jars and other things are my characters. They are my actors and actresses performing a play that is unfolding in front of your eyes. My white table covered in a plastic transparent sheet is a stage, an altar. But ultimately the subject matter is not really important.

I want to think that my paintings are not just about what you see, but about what you don’t see. It is something that lives on a different plane. It is not tangible, yet it is enormously present. In my paintings I want it to transmit the feeling of something more, bigger, fourth-dimensional, maybe uncomfortable, spiritual, emotional'.