Amie Elizabeth Wolo is a London-based abstract artist whose work celebrates the expressive potential of colour and mark making. Operating outside conventional boundaries, Amie’s practice draws viewers into immersive visual conversations where rhythm, hue and texture become emotional vocabulary. Her paintings and designs emphasise gestural energy, inviting an intuitive response from the viewer that moves beyond literal narrative and into feeling. With an instinctive approach that embraces spontaneity, Amie leverages bold contrast and layered abstraction to explore dynamic tension and visual depth. Her portfolio which spans original paintings, silk scarves and limited edition works reflects both creative curiosity and a commitment to making abstract art accessible without dilution of its conceptual depth. Through community engagement, workshops and her own studio practice, Amie continues to define her voice within the contemporary abstract scene in the UK and beyond.
Your work places a strong emphasis on colour as an expressive force. How did you first begin to see colour as more than aesthetic and start making it the central language of your art?
My journey with colour became a ‘language’ during my work as a primary school teacher and a mother. I watched children including my daughter instinctively reach for a bright yellow or a moody violet to express a feeling they didn’t yet have the vocabulary for. It was a lightbulb moment, colour isn’t just an aesthetic choice it’s an emotional shorthand. I began to study colour theory not just as a technical skill, but as a psychological tool to express emotions without words.
Many artists arrive at abstraction through a long journey of experimentation. What were the pivotal moments or influences that led you to commit to abstract practice?
The pivot came from understanding that literal narratives can be limiting. As a Teacher, I used art as a tool to help students navigate complex emotions. Applying that same permission to my own practice allowed me to prioritise gestural energy and spontaneity over representational accuracy.
Your portfolio includes original paintings alongside scarves, hoodies, and limited editions. How does your creative process change when you are designing for wearable art versus large-format works?
It shifts from the physical to the tactile. Large-format paintings involve the whole body and the rhythm of mark-making on a fixed surface. When designing silk scarves or hoodies, I consider how the art will move and drape on a human form, turning a static visual into a fluid conversation.
In abstract art, rhythm and structure often become silent protagonists. How do you approach balance and movement within a composition?
Balance is about dynamic tension. I look for the ‘silent protagonists’ , the white space that allows a bold crimson to breathe. Because of my teaching background, I think of composition like a classroom, it needs enough structure to feel safe, but enough freedom to allow for discovery.
Are there particular environments, memories, or emotional states that you find consistently influence your colour choices and compositions?
My choices are inextricably linked to emotional states. I’m influenced by the “bright and colourful” energy of London’s contemporary scene and the intuitive, unfiltered way children use colour. I aim to capture that raw bravery in every palette. It’s so freeing and rewarding to discover during the process of it all. After all, it really is about the journey.
Your work often evokes optical rhythm and perceptual tension. Was this influence intentional, and are there specific artists – historical or contemporary – whose ideas you’ve felt in dialogue with while making your work?
It’s a dance between the two. My studio is where I ‘digest’ external sights, the grit of a London street or the light on a billboard and translate them into an internal emotional vocabulary. It’s a dance between the objective and subjective. My internal experiences can be bold, loud and unapologetic. Ultimately, my art is the residue of that transformation. The external world provides the spark, but the internal experience provides the heat. I love artists who paint abstraction and make me feel. For example, I like Joan Mitchell. Her influence reminds me that a brushstroke can be both a physical gesture and a stored memory of a specific light or moment. Like Mitchell, I see some of my work as a ‘remembered landscape’ . She didn’t just paint the field itself, she painted the feeling of the field after she had left it. I look to Frank Bowling for the way he integrates the ‘grit’ of place. His map paintings and use of embedded objects and thick textures mirror that urban London energy. He shows me how external, material reality like the flow of water or the geometry of a city can be transformed into a soulful, layered Odyssey of colour. Lastly from John Hoyland, I take the courage of scale and the “theatricality of colour. He proved that an external sight like a sudden flash of light could be distilled into a massive, non-objective form that carries a heavy emotional weight. His work is a reminder that the internal experience can be bold, loud and unapologetic. Giving me the freedom of expression. Within my own practice.
Community and engagement appear in your practice through workshops and collaboration. How do these interactions feed back into your own studio work?
Teaching is the heartbeat of my practice. Seeing a student find their voice through a brushstroke reminds me that art is a universal human right. It keeps my own practice grounded in accessibility and encourages me to stay playful. I want to remind people that our inner child can be ageless especially where art is concerned.
You’ve exhibited internationally and have works in private collections worldwide. How does shifting between intimate studio practice and public exhibition spaces affect your process?
Abstract art offers a rare space for subjective truth. It’s a tool for empathy, two people can look at the same painting and feel entirely different things, and both are right. It is the ultimate way to communicate when words aren’t enough. Having my art in private collections is still so surreal to me but I’m happy to have my works in the company of some of the greats within these collections.
Can you describe the atmosphere in your studio when you are making work that feels most alive to you? Is it intuitive or planned, or a mixture of both?
It’s a mixture of raw intuition and planned intention. I always start with a specific colour which is yellow, but once the paint is flowing, the process becomes entirely spontaneous. I embrace the mess and the magic in equal measure.
Looking forward, what directions or themes are you curious to explore next in your work, whether in medium, scale or concept?
I am eager to explore even larger, immersive scales and find new ways to bridge the gap between fine art and everyday accessibility. I want to continue defining a voice that celebrates the ‘bright and colourful’ while exploring the deep conceptual depths of human experience. At the core I want my art to be playful and expressive so that when you come across my art it is a continuous discovery to explore.
You can currently view Amie’s work at Zebra One Gallery for their Women in Art Exhibition
