In this interview, Yukon-born painter Meghan Hildebrand reflects on her maximalist approach, the balance between chaos and harmony, and her fascination with landscapes shaped by human touch. She discusses her creative process, evolving themes, and the quiet dialogue between industry, nature, and imagination in her work.

Your painting approach is described as maximalist. How do you manage the balance between the sense of "plenitude" and the necessity of not overwhelming the viewer in such dense compositions?

I think part of that is keeping a limited colour palette that’s harmonious, and I think I’ve developed a sense of composition, so the eye is lead in a path that isn’t just completely scattered. Elements are arranged in an understandable way. That said, I think my paintings do overwhelm some viewers.

You are the daughter of an artist and a miner. What role has this familial duality played in developing your thematic engagement with landscape and industry?

I don’t have much interest in painting straight up nature, I think plenty of painters do a great job of that already. I’m more curious about what people have done to landscape and how the landscape adapts to people. My father’s belief that resources are meant to be extracted has pushed me in the other direction. I hold nature in reverence, and I hope my work says that about me. I guess both my parents instilled in me a strong sense of observation, my mom’s artistic eye, and my dad’s interest in the composition of things.

You deliberately avoid human figurative representation, preferring to paint "the traces of people." Why is this absence crucial for establishing the narratives within your worlds?

I like a viewer to be able to place themselves in the scene presented. I try to introduce points of entry, traces of trails, doorways, portholes. As soon as a figurative element is added, the work tends to put the figure at the centre of the narrative. I like figurative work, but it's not what I like to create.

Describe your creative process and how you approach a new painting.

Stretching and priming my own canvas is something I enjoy and has a ceremonial quality for me. As a personal challenge, I will often plan a new approach for a new series. Recently, I’ve introduced using a photo reference as a starting point. I will use the reference for a quick first pass, laying down a basic composition and some energetic brushwork, then put the reference aside. From there I’ll plan the colour and spend time mixing paint so my colours are ready to use, and start build up and populate my painting. I like to have several paintings going at the same time so I’m not fixating too hard, if I feel stuck, or if my strokes start to feel like decorating instead of painting, I have something else to focus on.

What drives you to alternate between large-format acrylic on canvas (or wood) and watercolour, and how does each medium influence the subject matter or the atmosphere of the piece?

The canvases are challenging, in that I’m trying to make new things work and there’s also a physicality to the work. Acrylic on canvas can be built up, so there’s a process of construction and deconstruction, problem solving until something seems “right”. All the layering tends to result in something that resembles a physical space. The watercolours on paper, on the other end, represent more of a restful, meditative process. I sit down and draw from my imagination, doodle in the shapes that come naturally.

Could you introduce us to some past series and their specific themes, and discuss any that you have in mind for the future?

I liked "Ship in the Woods”, a series inspired by a photograph of an old sternwheeler rotting in the woods. I’m from the Yukon, where the sternwheeler has historical significance. A few years prior, I hand built a collection of ceramic boats, which handily served the purpose of model ships for the Ship in the Woods paintings. The paintings place the boats in imagined landscapes. Since the boats depicted are based on models, there is a strange feeling that proportions are off, that they could be toy boats in a garden. I liked the circular nature of that process, building my own models and placing them in my own work.

Up until now, my work tends to depict outdoor places. I think the interior would be an interesting challenge, maybe the view from inside one the places I’ve painted. That might require a tightening up, and more planning, which would be a nice challenge.

Gordon Young's essay asserts that your work is a "raucous and explosive attempt to reawaken a species from apathy." Do you believe that art has this function of a call to action or re-enchantment in the contemporary world?

Gord’s essay is really interesting and spoke about my work in ways I’d never considered. Philosophy is not my strong suit! Making art, for me, is something of a respite from reality, and it is a place where I have control. It has also given me a way to connect with people. As a consumer of art, I have certainly experienced art that has awoken me to new ways of thinking, and to find magic and beauty where I might not have before. So YES, to both.

Do you have an upcoming exhibition where we can see your work?

My next scheduled exhibit is in the fall of 2026 with Mayberry Fine Art in Winnipeg. My work can always be found on my website, where you’ll also find my dealers who carry my work year round.

---

To learn and see more of Meghan Hildebrand's work, visit her website and follow her on Instagram.

---